Alison Goes to London

 CHAPTER ONE:
A SEXY TALKING ASSHOLE ON THE WHITESHIT EXPRESS

“Fucking or Non-Fucking?” asked the lady behind the ticket counter.

“Fucking, please,” replied Alison confidently.

“First Class or Shit Class?”

“First, please.”

“Two-berth, four-berth, or seat?”

“Uh… what’s the difference?”

“Well, it’s a long journey, so frankly, if you’re planning on doing any fucking, I would avoid the seat carriages. You can just about give a blowjob, but there’s barely room to spread your legs. Are you travelling alone?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’d go for a four-berth fucker. More fun that way: you might get a nice little orgy going.”

“Okay, that sounds good. So, one ticket for the 10.30 Whiteshit Express to London, in a First Class four-berth fucker.”

“Would you like to pre-book any extras?”

“Like what?”

“Well, in First Class Fucking you can book a strap-on fuck from the conductor if you like.”

“Only strap-on? No real cocks?”

“Not on this service. They used to offer a choice of male or female fuckers in First Class, but in the past year they’ve gone for female conductors only. Austerity, I guess.”

“Well, maybe I’ll just wait and see. I can purchase a fuck on board, can’t I?”

“Oh, sure. And that way you can see who you’re sharing your compartment with before you pay for any extras.”

“Okay, I’ll do that. So how much is that?”

“One thousand three hundred and forty-four euros.”

“Here you are. Thanks a lot, you’ve been very helpful. Lick my pussy, ma’am.”

“Lick m’ pussy, young lady. Have a good trip.”

Alison gave the lady behind the counter an appreciative smile and tucked a stray strand of light brown hair behind her ear, before making her way through the crowds back towards the main station concourse. Slender, elegant and tall, with finely-crafted features and a slightly rounded nose, she wore a see-through light green chiffon dress which showed off her figure perfectly – especially her large, slightly jiggly, natural-looking breasts and puffy dome-shaped nipples. There was a spring in her step as she re-joined her mother by the ticket barrier.

“Well – my daughter the fucker! I’m so proud of you, you know,” said the older woman tenderly, as she gave her daughter a farewell embrace. “You’re such a fucking slut.” Their breasts gently squashed against each other through their clothing.

“Aw, you say such sweet things, Mommy.”

“Wait…” the older lady paused as she fished something out of her handbag, “I’ve bought you something as a going-away present.”

“Aw, Mommy, you shouldn’t have!” said Alison as she opened the modest little cloth bag her mother handed her, withdrawing a rosary, with its pattern of wooden beads arranged in decades, offset at the pendant end by a finely-crafted solid silver penis. “What a beautiful cock!” she exclaimed, admiring the handiwork, then hanging the rosary around her neck so that the penis dangled between her breasts.

“Well, I know you’re not as into religion as I am, baby, but it’s just to remind you.”

“Thank you, Mommy.”

“You pleasure me, pussy-pie,” said her mother with a smile.

“You pleasure me too, Mommy.”

“Hey, baby cunt, are you gonna get enough fucking on that train? It’s a long way.”

“Yeah, I hope I’m sharing a compartment with some big dicks – otherwise I’m gonna get real bored rubbing my clit all the way to London. Mind you, I’ve got plenty of pre-course reading on my list, just in case I get tired of jerking off!”

“And how likely is that?” remarked Alison’s mother, raising an eyebrow sceptically.

They laughed, kissed each other on the lips one last time, and parted, Alison turning at the ticket barrier to shout, over the din of the crowds, “EAT MY CUNT, MOMMY!” as her mother waved fondly.

The 10.30 Whiteshit Express from Cunthorpe to London was an impressive affair, with twelve gleaming white carriages lined up along the platform. Alison consulted her ticket: Carriage 11 (First Class, Fucking), Compartment 2, Berth 2, it said. Alison counted off the carriage numbers as she walked along the platform. Carriages One and Two were both marked Shit Class, Non-Fucking: most of the people boarding here seemed to be families with children. Three and Four were Shit Class, Fucking: through the windows Alison saw serried ranks of hard wooden benches. “Jesus, who’d want to fuck on those?” Alison muttered under her breath. “Get splinters in your cunt…”

It wasn’t until carriages Eleven and Twelve (“At last!) that Alison saw First Class, Fucking (Four-Berth Fuckers) emblazoned on the side of the rolling stock. And when she slid the door to Compartment Two open, her heart leapt. For there in Berth One was… well, the first thing she noticed was the cock: jet-black, proud, and about eight inches long, it stood pulsating in the fist of a young man who was intently watching a video on the compartment screen whilst stroking his member with measured but firm purpose. The video seemed to feature a skinny girl with bleached blond hair and bright red lipstick, getting fucked airtight by three men – but that did nothing to distract Alison from the real-life dick in Berth One. She had already exclaimed “Oh Jesus fucking Christ!” before she could stop herself, and the young man turned his head with a smile.

“Suck my cock,” he said with exquisite courtesy, and a formal nod.

“I think I will,” replied Alison before she could stop herself. “I mean, eat my cunt, sir,” she said, correcting her manners, “I mean, lick my pussy, I mean, oh fuck…” Her voice trailed off in embarrassment as she stared at the huge black dick.

The man smiled, still calm and courteous, “Have you never seen a black man before?”

“Uh, no, uh, not in real life: there aren’t any, uh… any black people here in Cunthorpe. Not since the Expulsion, I’m told. Or I guess there’s you now, but I mean, not many. At least I’ve never seen a… you know, a…”

“Real-life black cock?” said the man helpfully. Alison nodded wordlessly, transfixed by the huge ebony rod which stood upright, throbbing in its master’s palm. “Would you like to fuck it?” continued the stranger kindly. On the screen, the cocks in the blonde girl’s cunt and ass had now moved round to her face, and she was sucking all three in turn, leaving rings of red lipstick up and down their shafts.

“Fuck yeah!” she replied with almost girlish glee. You know, I’m a real good fuck. Actually, I’m going to London to study at the RAF… you know, the Royal Academy of Fucking?” Slowly, Alison felt the train begin to move; she steadied herself on the door-frame, still staring at the black dick in front of her.

“The RAF – wonderful! smiled the stranger. “So you want to be a fucker when you grow up?”

Alison was a bit embarrassed and annoyed at the implication that she wasn’t yet grown up, and, more to the point, was desperate to prove herself to this gorgeous young hunk. “Well, I won the prize for Best Assfucker in the North Cuntshire Fuck Championships last year. Honestly, sir, you don’t need to pay for a fuck from the conductor lady today. I can do that for you, for free!” On the screen, the three guys were beginning to stroke off onto the girl’s face, her lipstick smeared sluttishly over her cheeks and chin.

“Talk of the devil,” replied the young man, as the compartment door slid open and in came a dark-haired young lady in a conductor’s uniform, high heels clicking, and pushing a trolley piled high with a varied selection of dildos and vibrators. “Lick my pussy, sir; lick my pussy, ma’am. I’m Tracy, and I’m your customer fucker for this journey. Is either of you interested in hiring any toys for the journey? Or ordering any fuck-services?”

“I pre-ordered a blowjob,” said the man.

“Oh yes, Mister Daniels, isn’t it?” said Tracy, checking her manifest. “Would you mind waiting about half an hour, sir? I’ve got a lesbian threesome in Compartment One; but daisy-chains work better with four, so I need to go and eat cunt with them first. Then I’ll do your blowjob. Then I get on to the really messy shit. The guys in Compartment Three want a bukkake. And the guys in Four have pre-paid for an anal gangbang, and have ordered ten cans of whipped cream as well!” On the screen the three cocks were now squirting thick ropes of hot cum onto the skinny blonde’s delighted face. “So, I’ll be back shortly: hope that’s okay? Oh, by the way, there’s no one else booked into this compartment, so you two can watch all the fuck-flicks you like, or just get straight down to fucking if you prefer. Have fun: I’ll be back to give you that blowjob!”

“So,” said Mr Daniels after Tracy the conductor had gone, “you’re starting at the RAF?” Alison nodded wordlessly, still mesmerised by the big black dick protruding from his fly. “On the National Diploma in Fucking course?” Alison nodded. “Fancy that! My sister is actually starting there this week as well, on the same course. You’re bound to meet.” On the screen, the girl was now covered with jizz: great globules clung to her hair and cheeks and eyelids, and slimy strings of cum, slightly pink from smeared lipstick, dangled from her chin, swinging back and forth as she continued sucking her three cocks. “Congratulations on getting in,” continued Mr Daniels. “That’s quite an achievement.” He smiled kindly at her.

Alison wanted to respond, but could only stare open-mouthed at the huge black cock which continued to stand proud and pulsating from Mr Daniels’ crotch. “Oh sorry,” the man noticed at last, “let me put this away so we can introduce ourselves properly. I’m Rob, suck my cock.”

“Alison, m’ pussy,” she mumbled hoarsely. But as Rob began to cram his cock into his jeans, she couldn’t help but blurt out: “Oh please don’t put your dick away! I mean, it’ll be more comfortable out than in. At least, maybe you’d like me to suck it or something? Oh, but you already booked a blowjob from the conductor. Are you sure you’d rather fuck her than me…?” Alison asked, a slightly pained expression on her face.

Rob smiled again – and for the first time, undistracted by his cock, Alison looked into his face and saw his kind eyes twinkling at her. “Sorry, sir, I mean, Rob, I’m not normally so ditsy, after all if I’m gonna be a professional fucker I should really get a hold of myself, shouldn’t I? I guess I’m a bit nervous, you know, first time away from home…” The girl on the screen was now systematically cleaning up, wiping every last glob of slime off her face and tits with her fingers and guzzling it down enthusiastically.

“It’s lovely to meet you with your guard down, Alison,” said Rob indulgently. “Why don’t you let me eat your pussy a bit first? That way you can tell me a bit about yourself. And I think this scene’s over anyway,” he said, clicking the remote control lying on his berth-side cabinet and turning off the screen.

Alison wanted to apologise for having interrupted Rob’s fap, but instead walked slowly to Berth Two, stowed her luggage, and lay back, propping herself up with a couple of pillows, gently pulling her dress up to her waist, and spreading her legs wide. Rob drew breath, clearly startled by the glistening gorgeousness of the young cunt, hairless except for a rectangular light brown landing-strip.

“Oh, that’s beautiful, Alison. Tell me about yourself while I eat you out,” said Rob, as he knelt before her and gently flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh fuck!” was all Alison could say at first, as a gorgeous tingle spread from her clit throughout her whole body. But, determined to behave professionally, she began her introductions. “Well, I’m eighteen years old, and live with my mom and dad in a village just outside Cunthorpe. Oh, and we have a live-in fucker too, Hortense. Actually, her real name’s Sharon and she comes from Rotherham, but she does the whole French maid thing ‘coz my mom likes it – so we call her – oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck that’s amazing!” Alison’s monologue disintegrated into a string of expletives, as Rob’s tongue began sweeping gently up and down her cunt-lips.

“Go on,” came Rob’s voice from between her thighs.

“Well, I’ve always loved fucking, ever since I can remember. My parents love anal – actually, my dad made his money in butt-plugs: have you seen the ad ‘Do you have a Bates Butt?’” – Alison hummed the tune of the familiar TV jingle – “That’s his company. So anyway, they GM’ed my asshole in vitro, so I’m always clean and lubed, and have complete gape and wink control. I love getting fucked in the ass; as my mom always says, ‘It’s like shitting backwards,’ and – oh fucking Jesus yeah lick that fucking cunt!” Now Rob’s tongue was dipping deep into Alison’s pussy, making obscene slurping noises as her juices seeped down her thighs and all over his face.

“So who taught you to talk so dirty?” came Rob’s slightly muffled voice.

“Oh, that,” replied Alison as she slowly regained her breath, “that’s mainly Hortense actually. I mean, she’s such a professional: I’ve learnt so much from her. My dad’s away a lot, which is why we hired her. Now she fucks my mom with a strap-on, like, every day. And she does the whole French accent thing, like ‘Madame, shall I eat your ‘ot pussy first, or shall I feuck your hass with my beeg cock?’ – my mom loves that sort of – OH FUUUUUCK!” Rob’s tongue had found Alison’s asshole and was gently flicking it.

“Show me what this prize-winning asshole of yours can do then, Alison,” he muttered as he began to gently tease it with the soft circular motion of his tongue.

Alison was struggling to keep control of herself. “Well, I will,” she replied, “but” – and she paused for a moment, trying to work out how she could gain control of this handsome young man too – “only if you sit back and watch. Then I’ll show you my Sexy Talking Asshole Show!”

Rob’s face, shiny with cunt-juice, emerged from between Alison’s thighs. “‘Sexy Talking Asshole Show’? What’s that?” Alison leaned back further and shifted her ass upwards so that Rob could have a perfect view of her asshole, now glistening from his saliva. For extra effect she pulled her dress all the way up, revealing her large, natural-looking tits and puffy dome-shaped nipples, her silver-cocked rosary dangling delicately in-between. Rob drew breath again: “Wow, look at those! Are those GM too?”

“No, MM – my mom bought them for me for my eighteenth. What about that cock of yours? Is that GM – or are all… uh… black dicks that huge?”

“It’s natural,” replied Rob, with another twinkle in his eye. “I’m a bit older than you, and they didn’t have big cock technology when I was in vitro.”

“Very impressive,” Alison giggled, “but now let me give you something to do with that dick! Sit back for the amazing ‘Look Mom No Hands’ Sexy Talking Asshole Show! Tan-tan-taraaa!”

Curious but obedient, Rob sat back on his berth and watched intently as Alison began to slowly open and close her asshole by muscle power alone. When closed, her sphincter was a perfect rosebud, tight, slightly wrinkled, a delicate light brown, framed by a pair of beautiful ass-cheeks, pure white except for one small mole on her right buttock, and – from Rob’s point of view on his berth – topped by two large wobbly mounds of tit, each finished off with a perfect dome-shaped nipple quivering skyward. Said tits formed the frame for Alison’s delicately proportioned face, which made Rob, almost unbeknownst to himself, grin with delight. Then Alison’s asshole began what Rob presumed to be “The Show”, slowly opening and closing to reveal her innards. At first, they were gentle winks, just opening wide enough to, perhaps, tempt a little finger in – like sensually parted lips, Rob thought, except perfectly round, like a little ‘o’. Then the winks began to gradually grow wider: wide enough maybe for a middle finger to probe its way in, then wide enough for a small vibrator. Finally, Alison’s asshole was gaping wide enough for a cock – “maybe even my cock,” thought Rob. And what a perfect asshole it was! There was no hint of slackness or prolapse – just a pure, wide open ‘O’ (“capital ‘O’ now,” thought Rob) guiding the way into Alison’s rectal abyss, which glowed deep red in the reflected light from the ceiling lamps. “Oh fuck,” exclaimed Rob, “can I lick that gape, baby?”

“Not yet,” replied Alison, wagging a finger at him in reproach, and enjoying the effect she was having on the gorgeous man now drooling at her rectum. “Stay sitting back: that was just the overture!”

Alison contracted her asshole suddenly shut, but then, to Rob’s amazement, made it start “talking” – that is to say, opening and closing, but in time with Alison’s speech – for which she put on a hilarious mock twentieth-century posh English accent. “Good mawning, Mister Deniels,” “said” the asshole, expanding and contracting by its own muscle-power, “do you layk drooling over my gaping ahsshale?” Rob laughed out loud, but his cock was stiff as steel inside his jeans. “What’s your favourite kaynd of ahsshale, Mister Deniels?” The asshole gaped wider than ever as Alison put on a deep stentorian voice: “Do you layk your ahsshales wayd and gaping, say you could fit your hayl fist in theah? Or,” – and now the asshole contracted tight again, but opened just wide enough to look as if it was speaking with the high-pitched squeak now emanating from Alison’s mouth – “perheps you’d prefer my ahsshale tayt and stuck-up, like a prudish little ahss-virgin? Or,” – and now Alison resumed her normal accent as her anus returned to a dick-sized gape – “maybe the best kind of asshole is the cock-sized asshole, just the right size for that big black dick to squeeze into and fuck to oblivion?”

Rob couldn’t hold back any longer: this was the wildest, craziest, funniest, sexiest thing he had ever seen in his life, and he wanted nothing more now than to obey the voice and assfuck Alison to said oblivion. He stood up, ripping his jeans down to reveal his huge dick again, more erect than ever, its head now glistening with pre-cum. This time, Alison wasn’t fazed by the gorgeous cock pulsating and bobbing in front of her. She knew she had won: she was in control now – no longer the ditsy teenager mesmerised by her first black dick, but a fucker – a real fucker who knew how to control and pleasure her customers like a professional. “Oh yeah, come on now, Mister Daniels, ram that fucking black dick in my gaping shithole. What are you waiting for?”

Rob wasn’t waiting any longer. He put both his hands under Alison’s butt-cheeks, lifted her ass so that her anus gaped wide towards the ceiling, and plunged his cock downwards deep into her hot rectum. Alison’s asshole was slick as cunt, clean and lubed just as she had promised, and a groan of ecstasy escaped from Rob as his balls slapped against Alison’s ass. Alison’s fuck-talk wasn’t about to let up: “Oh yeah, Mister Daniels, you wanna assfuck this nice young white girl with that huge black dick of yours? You wanna pile-drive her fucking shithole? You wanna clean out her stables with that fucking horse-cock of yours?”

Rob was in seventh fuck-heaven. He fucked that asshole with more lust than he knew he had. He fucked it because it was hot and slimy as a cunt on heat. He fucked it because it sucked his dick better than any cunt or throat he had ever had fucked. He fucked it because this bitch’s filthy talk drove him wild. He pulled Alison’s ass down onto the berth and lay on top of her so that, dick still pounding her shithole, he could suck those big beautiful tits, their finely-rounded nipples now pinker and puffier than ever. He gazed in wonder at that pretty face, those keen brown eyes, those soft pink lips – now unleashing a torrent of verbal filth at him: “You like fucking this dirty white bitch, Mister Daniels? You gonna squirt your cum into that asshole? Swill out her shit-cunt with that cock-cream of yours? Fill her brown hole with all your fucking dick-slime? Watch her eat your fucking cum from her shit-pit? ‘Coz this pretty little white girl owns you. You come in here, boy, and bust up her fucking chifforobe, and she’ll give you a fucking – FUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!”

That last “fuuuuuuuck!” was not part of Alison’s script: she cried out in ecstasy as the huge black dick exploded, releasing stream after stream of hot cum into her gaping asshole. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” she intoned in time with the pulsation of Rob’s cock, as she felt her rectum being spray-cleaned from inside. Rob kept his cock buried deep in Alison’s rectal reservoir, relishing the feeling of all the cock-cream swashing against his twitching dick-head. When eventually he pulled his cock out, a small flood of cum escaped in his wake and dribbled out onto the berth. Alison reached calmly downward and curled three fingers into her still-gaping shithole, methodically but ostentatiously scooping out the creamy splooge and licking it off her fingers with a gentle moan. Then she did it again, and again, and again until she had eaten it all, apart from a gentle glaze on her lips and chin and a thin web of cum-threads filling her mouth. Finally, a triumphant grin on her face, Alison shut her asshole tight again, announced: “That’s all, folks!” and then let out one long, slow, noisy cum-lubricated fart, the few remaining drops of semen in her asshole oozing and bubbling out of her tight rosebud and dribbling down one butt-cheek.

Rob gazed in amazement at the sight, and he felt something he had never felt before in his life. He had fucked many girls before, but Alison wasn’t just another sexy piece of ass: she was funny yet profound, confident yet vulnerable, gorgeous, lovely, wonderful, amazing… Rob couldn’t find the words to express how he felt, so he said, “You pleasure me, Alison,” and she replied likewise – but Rob knew that this wasn’t just pleasure. It was delight, it was glee, it was delectation, it was enchantment, it was… “fuck, it can’t be…” he muttered to himself, banishing thoughts which he knew were forbidden.

Alison had no such illusions. Licking her lips like the cat that had got the cream, she knew she had triumphed. And that she would triumph again and again. This was no teenage fumble behind the bike-sheds, or school orgy in the park. This was no adolescent family fuck. This was quality. This was the stuff of championships. This was a fuck that even Hortense the professional French maid would be proud of. “Watch out, Royal Academy of Fucking,” she grinned silently to herself, “Alison’s on her way!” Politicians and princes, presidents and kings were going to empty their balls into her asshole before she was done with the world. She was going to be the greatest fucker the continent had ever known!

“Lick m’ pussy, Mister Daniels,” came a slightly distracted voice as the compartment door slid open again, interrupting Alison’s reverie. There was Tracy, her skirt slightly crumpled, her hair dishevelled and her lips and face glistening. “I’ve finished with the girls in One; would you like that blowjob now?” And then, after a brief pause whilst she took in the situation, her eyes alighting, in turn, on Rob’s slimy cock, Alison’s creamy lips, and her cum-coated asshole now shut tight, “or shall I come back later maybe?”

“Uh… maybe later?” said Rob, wiping his cock-head on Alison’s landing-strip. Tracy nodded discreetly and left, sliding the door gently shut behind her.

“Alison,” said Rob, fumbling for words to express how he felt, “you… you pleasure me.”

It was inadequate of course, and Alison didn’t get it. “Too fucking right,” she replied, smiling at her success, a thin glaze of cum still coating her lips.

“No, no, I mean… I… I…”

Alison looked quizzically at him. “…like fucking my asshole?” she suggested, helpfully.

“Oh yeah, sure, but more than that, I think I… uh…”

“… wanna fuck my throat?”

But Rob did not dare say what he really felt, and the best he felt he could get away with was: “Alison, can we maybe just keep fucking now – just slowly, my cock in your cunt, you know, missionary? I know it sounds strange, but I don’t really want to fuck anyone else but you. Does that make any sense?”

“Sure, it means I’m the best fucker in the world. I did tell ya, didn’t I?”

Rob knew he wasn’t getting through, but he also knew that what he really wanted to say was forbidden – especially from a black man in white man’s land. And so, slowly, gently, he slid his dick into Alison’s pussy. And he fucked her, smoothly, tenderly, softly, gently – no longer wild with lust for the dark depths of her ass, but full of delight, respect, compassion and soothing care.

And so Alison and Rob fucked all the way to London. Alison didn’t quite understand what had come over her black stud, why he had become so tender and kind (“almost like Daddy,” she thought to herself), why he was no longer interested in jerking off to the fuck-flicks on the screen, or even getting the blowjob from Tracy the fucker which he had already paid good money for. But his dick was still huge and stiff, and three more times that day he gave her his cum, twice in her cunt and once all over her lovely dome-shaped nipples, while she came again and again under his gentle touch.

As they fucked, they talked. Rob told her about his sister Eva who also wanted to be a fucker and whom Alison would doubtless meet at the RAF (“She’s aiming for corporate – blowjobs under board-room tables, you know…”); about his own work as a civil engineer (“Sounds totally boring…” was Alison’s only reaction); about his parents who had left the continent at the Expulsion in the ‘30s; about how he and his sister were only allowed to stay because his parents had had them sterilised in vitro. “Well,” replied Alison guilelessly, “obviously no one wants you breeding with Europeans again – we just want you for your big dicks!” She giggled, and Rob couldn’t help laughing with her – though there was a hollowness in his eyes and a pain in his heart as he did so – even as he slid his cock in and out of her slippery cunt.

Tracy came back an hour after her previous visit, topless, cum plastered all over her hair and face, one eye glued shut with jizz, and more cock-snot dripping from her chin onto her tits. “Done the bukkake in Three!” she exclaimed with glee. But still Rob said, “maybe later” to her offer of a blowjob, as he gently explored Alison’s smooth cunt with his dick, all the while tenderly kissing her breasts and lips. About an hour before arrival in London, Tracy reappeared, limping slightly, clothes entirely discarded now apart from her high heels, her hair matted and slimy, whipped cream and sperm caked onto her face and tits and oozing from all her orifices, and smelling faintly of piss. “Bit messy for a blowjob, huh?” she said, and Rob replied kindly, “That’s okay, Tracy, I don’t need that blowjob now: Alison is all I ever wanted.”

“Whatever,” thought Alison. “Anyway, I like his dick. Better than rubbing my clit all the way to London.”

CHAPTER TWO:
A BRIEF HISTORY OF FUCKING

Before the Great Enlightenment of the 2020s, European society had a dysfunctional, nay, a schizophrenic attitude to fucking. On the one hand, both men and women favoured what society called “sexual liberation”, i.e. the right of anyone to fuck whoever they wanted, whenever they wanted, without any attendant responsibilities or obligations. On the other hand, society claimed to value what was called “the family”: men and women who fucked each other and conceived children by that act were expected to stick together to raise said children. It can be hard for us, in this Enlightened and Reconstructed Age, to imagine what a massive stress this dichotomy put on individuals and societies.

Alison lay naked on her bed in her student room at Fuckers’ Hall. It was the first morning of her course, and she had got up early, partly out of sheer excitement, and partly to do a bit of pre-course reading before heading into the Academy. She had had breakfast, taken a shower, and shaved her pussy (turning her rectangular landing-strip into a triangular one in the process – just for variety), and was now enjoying exposing it to fresh air, as had always been her habit at home. As she browsed through some of her assigned pre-course bibliography, she lazily traced a moistened finger up and down her slit. She wasn’t masturbating as such, just passing time. None of the textbooks were particularly sexy, but Alison had always been a studious type, and so she attacked A Brief History of Fucking by Professor Emma Jane Cuntslicker with determination.

Few people, whether they leaned towards the “liberal” or the “family” side of the argument, actually thought the issue through to its logical conclusions. Those who wanted to fuck freely had to contend with the biological issue, which is that in Unreconstructed man, fucking (despite the rather pathetic medical interventions called, in those days, “contraception”) made babies: pursuit of personal pleasure therefore led inexorably to the curtailment of personal pleasure – either of the parents who were forced to accept responsibility for the offspring they had conceived, or of the children who might be rejected by their parents, whether in utero or post partum. Neither side of the argument was able to face the fact – now blindingly obvious to us – that the only solution would be to completely and radically separate the pleasure of fucking from responsibility for family.

The journey down from Cunthorpe the day before had been great fun. Alison had fucked her first ever black dick, and had clearly pleasured its owner – to the extent that she had found it very hard to shake him off when the train pulled in at King’s Cock Station in the evening. He had insisted on giving her his number, but she had not given him hers. “After all, I’m gonna have lots of cocks to fuck at the RAF: I don’t need you anymore,” she had said, with disarming honesty. The man had seemed strangely disappointed by this, and so she had consoled him with: “Besides, you’ll be dropping in on your sister, won’t you? I bet I’ll see you around, and we can have a little fuck for old times’ sake. Bye, Rob – eat my cunt!” she had waved as she turned her back and strode away.

The issue was clouded further by the appeal, from both sides of the debate, to “love”. Those who wanted to fuck freely said that they were expressing “love” in so doing – despite the fact that all they were doing was seeking pleasure. Those who felt that bringing up families was of primary importance appealed likewise to “love” – even though the obligation for man and woman to remain together (“marriage”) often led to hateful relationships between parents, and between parents and their children, and of course an epidemic of bitter divorces.

Alison was getting bored of Professor Cuntslicker. And besides, her pussy was beginning to juice under the gentle touch of her finger. She sniffed her moist digit, and the gorgeous pungent scent of cunt filled her nostrils, making her groan with reawakened lust. She placed the book on the night-stand and began to finger-fuck herself in earnest, two fingers of one hand gently sliding in and out of her wet pussy, the spit-moistened thumb of the other softly rubbing her clit. It wasn’t long before she was muttering softly to herself: “Oh yeah baby, rub that fucking clit, that feels so fucking good. Slide those fucking fingers in and out of that slit…” Alison loved her own dirty talk: it pleasured her, and it made her hornier than ever. Soon it was four fingers in her cunt, and her whole palm, wettened with her flowing cunt-juice, was rubbing her clit with increasing pace. “Oh yeah baby, jerk off that fucking clit, make that fucking cunt come. Oh yeah, fuck, fuck, FUUUUUUUCK!!!” She came hard, squealing and panting as her cunt spasmed and a dribble of pussy juice made a little wet patch on the bedspread.

An Enlightened society, we all now know, depends upon the radical separation of these three things: “love”, child-bearing and pleasure – and the recognition that once they are separated mankind naturally seeks what is truly most important: Pleasure. “Love”, like the state, must wither away! This was the genius of the Great Enlightenment – but it could not have been realised without the scientific advances which led to the refashioning of the human being. Once Medical Modification (‘MM’) technology was perfected in 2025, followed by Genetic Modification (‘GM’) in 2027, it was possible for the Great Reconstruction to take commence. Mankind is being remade for Pleasure.

Alison threw her slime-streaked copy of Cuntslicker into her rucksack, pulled on a white mini-skirt and matching halter top, and proceeded to get ready to make the short walk across the park to the Royal Academy. It was a mid-September morning – which, in post-climate-change London, meant that it was already over 30 degrees Celsius. People were out relaxing in the sun: some picnicking, some jogging, some sitting chatting on the park benches, some just fucking. A buxom blonde in a pink bikini and thigh-length latex boots relaxed on a bench smoking a cigarette, eyes closed in ecstasy as she lazily blew smoke-rings into the still morning air, her thong pulled slightly to one side so she could slowly slide a matching pink dildo into her hairless cunt. A bit further off the path, under a large oak, a breakfast bukkake party was reaching its conclusion: a slightly-built black-haired girl lay nude and spread-eagled on a picnic blanket while eight or nine men stood above and around her jerking copious quantities of sperm onto her reflective sunglasses, face and tits whilst she squealed dementedly, “Cum! cum! cum!” (“Fucking!” thought Alison, “I must try that sometime…”) And as she reached Maryleboner Road she passed a newly-constructed municipal gloryhole station; half a dozen men in suits, clearly on their way to work, were feeding their erections through a gleaming aluminium wall, under a billboard which read, “Blowjobs provided courtesy of the City of Wankminster: only 100 euros.”

Some milestone dates are worth remembering:

2023 – invention of Flexible Fertility Technology (FFT), allowing the state perfect control over human fertility, and well as the flawless breeding of human beings in vitro;

2030 – the Great Expulsion: from the European Union, of any non-sterilised specimens of Undesirables or Objectors (e.g. followers of antediluvian religious practices, as well as members of ethnic minorities with divided loyalties);

2031 – the Societal Reconstruction Act (SRA), allowing parents to select GMs for their offspring in vitro (e.g. big tits, big dick, clean/lubed/gaping ass, gagless throat) – helping to create a society where everyone is beautiful and sexy, and Pleasure is universally available;

2035 – foundation of the Royal Academy of Fucking, the first of its kind, helping to train young people in the pursuit of fucking Pleasure, and providing world-class professionals to roll out the Enlightenment vision across the Union.

And so Alison came to her destination. As she walked up the front steps and into the entrance hall she was greeted with a glorious sight: on the back wall, a ceiling-high poster of a shiny pink hairless cunt penetrated (reverse cowgirl) by a huge cock, emblazoned with:

Welcome to the RAF: We Train the Fuckers of the Future

Leather couches were scattered around the large vestibule, on which various pairs or groups of students were sitting chatting, having cups of coffee, reading or fucking, as they prepared for their first lectures of the day.

Below the massive cock-in-cunt poster was a desk marked Reception, at which sat a young man with tousled red hair. “Suck m’ cock!” he called out enthusiastically as Alison approached.

“M’ pussy. My name’s Alison Bates, I’m starting on the NDF course today, and –”

“Alison Bates! The Alison Bates? I saw you on TV doing the championships up in… wherever it was. You got an amazing asshole!”

“Oh, thank you,” said Alison, blushing pink as cunt.

“And I had a bet with Anna” – he gestured to a short, slightly pudgy girl with huge breasts sitting next to him doing some paperwork – “that you must be the same family as Bates Butts – you know, the butt-plug guys?”

“Yep, that’s my dad’s company,” replied Alison.

“See, Anna? Told you!” said the young man to his buxom colleague. Anna smiled indulgently at him and waved a friendly “M’ pussy” to Alison.

“I’m Andy, by the way,” continued the young man. “I just love asshole, you know – and yours is the best!

“Well, maybe you can fuck it sometime,” replied Alison accommodatingly.

“Fucking! Can’t wait. Now, here’s your welcome pack. See, Anna’s put your name on it,” continued Andy, indicating a rather flamboyant curly pink Alison Bates hand-written on the front cover. “Your timetable and everything’s in there. You’ve got at least half an hour before you start, so have a seat so you can read it all through. I think your first lecture’s in the Constance Money Lab, which is on the first floor – but it’s all in here.”

Alison looked around for somewhere to sit. The only spare space was at one end of a couch, next to a tall muscular boy who was getting his cock gently sucked by a girl with long blond hair. “Okay if I sit here?” Alison asked. “Yeah sure sure fuck,” groaned the boy distractedly, while the girl, dick lodged between her lips, made a “mmff” sound as she nodded her head.

A lot of the welcome pack consisted of glossy brochures, with lots of pictures of happy people fucking and getting fucked in all sorts of contexts: schools, hospitals, prisons, company board-rooms, aeroplanes, construction sites, etc. Alison found it a bit difficult to concentrate on reading the text, over the slurping sounds coming from the couple next to her – but the subliminal message was clear: everybody loves fucking, and the RAF trains the best.

At last Alison found what she was looking for: her course timetable, which was headed:

NATIONAL DIPLOMA IN FUCKING
(course tutors: Prof. Emma J. Cuntslicker & Dr. Richard Dick)

“Hey, it’s Cuntslicker herself! I’d better finish reading that book,” thought Alison. She read on:

“What, no ass-fucking?” thought Alison. “And a whole fucking week on mish? Jesus, this will be so boring!” The couple next to her were getting harder to ignore. The girl had progressed to giving the boy a long sensual mouthfuck, slowly nibbling her lips all the way down the hard rod until her tongue tickled his balls, then gradually licking the underside of the shaft as she withdrew. “Good girl,” thought Alison to herself, “I wish I could deepthroat like that!” – but then she found the next page:

“Hey, this is more like it!” she exclaimed aloud. The other girl looked up from her deepthroating quizzically. “Sorry – don’t let me bother you,” said Alison, with only a hint of irony, as the girl went back to her cock-swallowing. By now she was leaving a thick coating of slobber on the boy’s cock, which gradually formed strings of drool which dangled tantalisingly, swinging back and forth until they splattered onto her chin and dribbled down onto her tank-top. Alison read on:

Whether it was due to the increasingly noisy slurping and gagging sounds emanating from next door, or the mention of “DAP”, “anal fisting” and “whiteshit”, it was hard to say, but Alison was losing concentration – and her cunt was juicing up. She dropped her welcome pack on the floor next to the bench and reached under her short skirt to find her clit, which she began to rub with focussed determination. The blonde’s pace had picked up, and her slow sensual blowjob was turning into a frantic throatfuck, obscene quacking noises escaping her gullet as she rammed her slimy face up and down on the boy’s cock, great ropes of spit and snot flying in all directions. The cock began to rear and buck, and the boy began to groan distractedly, “Oh fuck, oh yeah, I’m gonna…”

“Oh fucking,” Alison thought to herself, “he’s gonna cream all over her!” She expected the girl to pull her mouth off his cock and start jerking cum all over her face – but she didn’t. Instead she slowed her pace slightly, clasped her lips tightly around his shaft about three quarters of the way down, cupped one hand around his swollen balls, and used the other hand to milk his cock from the base of the shaft. “Oh fuck yeah, here it is,” the boy muttered, as the girl squealed with delight, eyes widening and cheeks bulging to capture the unseen oral creampie. Alison came hard and fast, her hand flying across her clit as a long tremulous whimpered “Fuuuuckkk!!!” escaped her mouth. The blonde kept grip with her lips until the boy’s cock had stopped jerking and his entire load was spent, still unseen, into her mouth.

“She’s gonna swallow,” thought Alison with a touch of disappointment – but again she was wrong. The girl turned to Alison, whose sloppy frigged-out cunt was now on full display, and, with as much of a smile as was possible under the circumstances, jutted out her jaw and opened her mouth wide so Alison could see the creamy load steaming and swirling in her mouth. “Oh fuck yeah,” groaned Alison aloud, “that’s beautiful. You gonna swallow it now, pretty bitch?” But she was wrong again. The blonde tipped her head back so Alison could have a perfect view of the mouthful of steaming jizz, then began to gargle slowly, letting the cock-cream bubble and froth in her mouth, stirring it around with her long pink tongue like a precious potion. “Oh fuck,” groaned Alison, as her fingers found her cunt again and began to frig her dripping hole with renewed lust, turning her body so the girl could have a full-on view of her desperate finger-fucking.

The blonde wasn’t finished yet, though: she reached up with one hand, dipped two digits into her oral cauldron and drew out a long gloopy string of cum, which she proceeded to twirl and dangle above her open mouth, all the time looking Alison in the eye as if to say, “You want some of this, don’t you?” Alison understood the wordless question, and the girl understood Alison’s silent desperate answer. She stood up and stepped out from between the boy’s thighs, revealing a gorgeously tall body, her tight ass encased in a pair of sluttishly torn blue jeans, small pert tits visible through her loose white tank-top now soused in saliva. Alison, fingers still lodged deep in her wet slit, tipped her head back, as the girl leaned forward, pursed her lips, and emptied her slimy concoction of semen and spit into Alison’s wide-open mouth in one long, slow, gloopy string. Alison whimpered in delight as the warm salty taste slowly filled her mouth, and she came yet again all over her lustful fingers, a small of dribble of warm cunt-juice running down her wrist onto her forearm. Now it was her turn to play with the load of fuck-slime in her mouth, gargling, blowing bubbles, making wet raspberry noises with her cum-coated lips, dipping her fingers in it and making slimy cum-webs with her hands which splattered gently over her cheeks. The blonde girl was on her knees again, but this time at Alison’s feet, head tilted back, mouth wide open and panting rapidly, wet dribbling tongue stuck out and arms lifted in front of her like a begging dog, silently imploring Alison to let her taste that load of cock-slime again. Alison knelt and locked her creamy mouth over hers. For the next five minutes they knelt mouth to mouth as they shared the cum-load, passing it back and forth, sucking it out of each other’s mouths, spitting it back over each other’s faces, gargling, licking, intertwining hot tongues, letting the jizz dribble down their chins and then licking it back up again, until their faces and necks were coated with an obscene mess of cum and drool.

As they came slowly down from their shared ecstasy, the two girls gazed triumphantly into each other’s goo-glazed faces. In unison they said, “Lick my pussy,” and then laughed uproariously at the ridiculous formality of the words. “Hi, I’m Alison,” said Alison. “You pleasure me.”

“You pleasure me too! I’m Claire. But maybe we’d better clean up all this mess first, before any further chat?” she said, starting to lick the slime off Alison’s face and neck. “By the way, this is Jack.” Alison glanced briefly at the forgotten lad, who nodded, as he stuffed his rapidly-shrinking dick back into his trousers, intoning a slightly gruff “M’ cock”, to which she replied with an equally perfunctory “Pussy,” before slurping the goo off Claire’s face, smacking her lips as she swallowed it down. Alison took the opportunity to study her new-found friend, and – fuck, she was beautiful! Her long blond hair hung languidly down to her pert tits, which were now poking out above her tank-top, which sagged and dangled under the sheer weight of spit and cum. She was tall and willowy, with fine features and sensual green eyes. “Jack came up from Little Dicking with me to help me settle in, but I promised him one last blowjob before he goes back home,” she giggled. “He says I’m better than Mom,” she added, as she snaked her tongue up Alison’s left nostril to retrieve a glob of snot.

“No shit, I can believe that – you’re amazing!” Alison sucked a dab of cock-cream off Claire’s right nipple. “Are you new here today, then? What course are you doing?”

“NDF. And you?” Claire gave a small cum-scented burp.

“Same!”

“Hey, fucking! Are you starting at ten? Shall we go and find this Lab together? Wait, let me take this wet top off first.”

And so the two pretty rookie fuckers, faces licked clean of cum but still shining with each other’s saliva, made their way across the entrance hall towards the staircase to the first floor. Claire, topless now, one tight buttock on tasteful display through a tear in her jeans, waved goodbye to Jack as she dangled her spit-sodden tank-top over her arm. Alison grinned from ear to ear, basking in the glorious pleasure of it all. Around the hall, other couples and small groups were finishing off their coffees or morning fucks before making their way off to their lectures. Even red-headed Andy was jacking off over Anna’s huge breasts, as she gazed upwards, eyes wide and sparkling, into his face. “Nice tits,” remarked Alison, jerking her thumb in the direction of Andy and Anna.

“And cock,” replied Claire, licking her lips.

“Fuuuuck!” they exclaimed together, laughing with sheer delight.

Alison felt sure that this was going to be the best year of her life.

CHAPTER THREE:
YOU CAN’T FUCK SHIT IF YOU CAN’T FUCK MISH

Monday, 19^th September, 2050

Dearest Mommy,

My first day at RAF has been totally fucking amazing! In the morning, we had our first practical session, in what they call the “Money Lab”. In the middle is a huge bed, for the group stuff. And around that, in a semi-circle, are all these individual “fuck-stations”, each with a couch for fucking, and a desk for writing (and fucking too, I guess), and a cabinet full of toys, including – tell Daddy! – a whole pile of Bates butt-plugs (not that I need them…)

Alison and Claire entered The Constance Money Fucking Laboratory hand-in-hand, still heady from their cumswap extravaganza, and sat themselves at neighbouring stations. Alison watched the other students gradually file in and take their seats. One of them, she realised, was the big-titted girl in the pink bikini she had seen in the park that morning; she was still in the same bikini, and still blowing smoke-rings, but seemed to have put her dildo away for the present. Another was a tall beautiful black girl with large breasts and dark brown loose afro hair who, she presumed, must be Rob’s sister Eva.

Instinctively, Alison called out a friendly “Eat my cunt, Eva!” and waved at the girl. The girl looked up suspiciously, but said nothing.

“Hi!” continued Alison. “I’m Al. I fucked your brother on the train yesterday, how’re you doing?”

Eva replied with a cold frown, “Ah, you’re the girl with the ‘amazing asshole’. Rob hasn’t stopped messaging me about you. You made quite an impression on him. Or at least your butthole did.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet, and well, likewise: I’d never fucked a, uh… a black guy before, and he’s got such a huge dick!” Alison giggled.

Eva regarded Alison with an unmistakeably impatient scowl. “Look, I’m very busy. Talk later, maybe?”

“Okay…” Alison felt somewhat deflated, but didn’t have long to dwell on her disappointment, for at that moment in strode one of the sexiest women she had ever seen in her life. The first thing Alison noticed were the tits: firm and bulging, they protruded proudly from her chest, barely concealed by an ultra-short beach crop top. Alison had seen tits like that in older women before; unlike Alison’s, which wobbled and jiggled in a “natural” way, these looked as if they must have been surgically enhanced, in the days before MM became commonplace.

The second thing Alison noticed was the cock. At least, it looked just like a cock – a big flesh-coloured dick, flaccid but huge, dangling from the woman’s crotch – so realistic, in fact, that Alison thought for a moment she must be a futa. On second inspection, though, it was clear that she was sporting a top-of-the-range auto-dildo. “Fucking!” whispered Alison to Claire. “I’ve always wanted one of those!”

“Cunts and cocks, welcome. I am Professor Emma Jane Cuntslicker – but my friends all call me Cunts for short, so please do the same.” Professor Cunts had long dark hair tied back in a simple pony-tail. Despite the style of her tits, she looked strikingly youthful – and very beautiful indeed, with broad high cheek-bones and dark sultry eyes. “I am sure you are aware,” she continued, “of the privilege you have all been accorded, to have been selected for this year’s National Diploma in Fucking course. However, do not be tempted to think that fucking is just ‘doin’ what comes naturally’! You are being trained to be top-class professionals, and this course will demand of you a professional level of dedication and hard work.”

The other students were nodding gravely, including pink-bikini girl, who had switched from rings to slow, thick, perfect cones of smoke, her large tits rising and falling with each new lungful. Alison looked around at the other students in the room. There were four boys, all very handsome in their different ways. Her attention was drawn immediately to one of them – tall, muscular and sexy as fuck, dressed in black lycra through which Alison could make out the shape of a huge thick cock bulging at his crotch. Alison made a “big cock” gesture to Claire; they both mouthed an impressed “fuuuuuck” to each other and collapsed in giggles.

“Now, you will see from your timetable,” continued the Professor, that this first week is devoted exclusively to the missionary position. Who’s disappointed? Be honest.” There was a brief pause, and then lycra boy’s hand shot up, an unmistakeably arrogant expression etched on his face. Slowly, several other hands followed suit. “Ah, I’m not surprised,” sighed Professor Cunts. “You are the first generation of intake at this Academy from the fully GM generation. Many of you boys have GM cocks, I know. Girls, how many of you have GM tits?” Eva and the smoking girl put their hands up. “Gagless throats?” Eva and Claire raised their hands.

“Fascinating,” said Professor Cunts, with a slightly jaded tone. “What about you, Alison?”

Slightly flustered, Alison muttered a tentative “Asshole? And, how did you know?”

“Oh, everyone knows about Alison Bates’ asshole, my dear,” replied the Professor. “Some of us were watching you on TV.” There was an impressed murmur from around the room, as the other students swivelled around to look. Alison blushed cunt-pink. Eva, however, rolled her eyes and looked the other way. “However” – and here the Professor turned back to the class – “the point I need to stress to you all is that merely having a gaping asshole, or a big dick, or huge tits – these things do not make you a great fucker. Fucking is all about technique, and you need to be trained in that technique. Chad!” The boy in lycra sat up. “Chad Halloway, you are clearly very proud of your dick – all, what is it, eight inches? I remember your audition.”

“Eight and a half, Professor Cunts, ma’am,” replied Chad with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Just Cunts, boy, just Cunts. So, do you think you can use those eight and a half inches to properly fuck a girl mish?”

“Sure, Professor, uh, I mean, Cunts. I mean, how hard can it be? It’s just climb on top and poke, isn’t it?” There was a guffaw from the other boys.

“Well, let’s see… Any volunteers from the girls here to be fucked by Mister Halloway’s eight and a half inches?” The pink-bikini girl raised her cigarette-free hand. “Aha, Miss Harriet Danes – also famous, I think? Winner of the London Smoke-‘n’-Fuck Cup last year, weren’t you?”

Harriet smiled with pride and blew one last exhale, before crushing her cigarette butt out on the floor with the heel of one of her thigh-length pink latex boots. Professor Cunts gestured to her to take her place on the central bed, before saying to Chad, “Go on, then. Let’s see you fuck her mish.”

“Only mish? Don’t I get a blowjob first?”

“You heard me, Eight-and-a-Half.” Chad paused, and then resumed his expression of cocksure arrogance, unbuttoning his fly to release his huge cock – thick, rock hard, and, yes, a good eight and a half inches long. There was a gasp from all the girls, and a unison “Fuuuuuck!” from Alison and Claire. The professor raised one eyebrow. Harriet smiled knowingly, lay back, spread her legs wide, and pulled her pink thong to one side to reveal her bald cunt. Chad swaggered up to the central bed, climbed on top of Harriet, and starting fucking hard. Harriet lay back, moaning as she shut her eyes, one of her hands diddling her swollen clit while the other massaged her huge breasts. Soon Chad was approaching his climax, and Alison couldn’t wait to see him jizz. But then –

“Cut!” shouted Professor Cuntslicker. “Hold it right there.” Chad paused his fucking. “Take that dick out of her cunt, Chad. Harriet, stop rubbing yourself.”

“What, Professor?” said Chad, his shining purple cock-head poised desperately at Harriet’s wet fuck-lips. “Can’t I come?”

“No. Pause. Now, class – your thoughts, please?”

The class was stunned. Thoughts? Alison didn’t know what to think. Professor Cunts probed further. “Harriet, did Chad pleasure you with his dick?”

“Uh, well, I guess.”

“Then why were you fingering your clit? And why were you looking so fucking bored? Harriet, stay there. Chad, resume your station.” Harriet shrugged, and sat on the edge of the bed awaiting further instructions. Chad trudged back to his fuck-station, looking both livid and humiliated as his still-glistening penis shrank despondently.

“Okay, let’s cut the bullshit,” said Professor Cunts, turning to the class, her auto-dildo dangling huge but flaccid in front of her. “Tell me, if you are going to be a professional fucker, what is your number one objective?”

“To provide pleasure,” said a boy with short dark hair.

“Pleasure, yes, Darren. To whom exactly?” There was silence from the class. “Mister Eight-and-a-Half was giving himself pleasure,” continued the Professor. “But he sure as fuck wasn’t giving his bitch any pleasure, or she wouldn’t have needed to rub her clit like that. That’s the first problem. Number two is this: who else should they both be giving pleasure to?” There was silence. “The audience, fuckwits! In the modern world, fucking is not just for those doing the fucking: it is a social duty! Before the Enlightenment, people fucked selfishly, jealously, for ‘love’” – the Professor grimaced as she said the word – “as they called it. But now we know that fucking is there to pleasure society! Harriet and Chad, did neither of you notice that not one of your classmates was jerking off? Even my auto-dick stayed soft! If you had been doing your jobs, we should have been drooling with lust, and I should now be looking at several puddles of cum on the floor!”

There was an embarrassed, humiliated silence from the class, but Professor Cunts was on a roll. “Good fuckers always have three objectives in mind: pleasuring the audience, pleasuring their partners, and pleasuring themselves – in that order. Girls – you’re on the bottom in mish. What does the audience want to see?”

“Pussy,” volunteered Claire.

“Right! Pussy, and ass, and tits. What’s more, they want to see that pink flesh getting stretched wide, and juicy. So, unlike Miss Danes here, get your sight-lines and angles right so that we can actually see something! We will work on that this week. Next – what do they want to hear?”

“Dirty talk!” answered Alison enthusiastically.

“Too fucking right! Does this mean a continuous undifferentiated stream of ‘fuck fuck fuck’? No, but nor can you just lie there moaning, Harriet. It requires pacing, and variety, and a gradual build-up commensurate with the fucking you’re getting and the preferences of the audience. We’ll work on that too. Now, boys – how do you contribute to making sure the audience get the pleasure they want?”

There was silence: the boys were clearly feeling intimidated, and Chad was sulking. Eventually a skinny boy with glasses raised his hand and suggested tentatively, “Maybe you gotta be careful not to block the view?”

“No shit, Bradley!” replied Cunts. “You’ve got to position yourself so everyone can see what you’re doing to that cunt, and so they can see your cock getting slimy! Now this is a challenge, because it goes against objective number two, which is…?”

“Pleasuring your partner?” answered Bradley.

“So why’s that so difficult in mish?”

Harriet piped up: “‘Coz mish only feels good if you can rub your clit.”

“Half a point to Harriet,” said Cunts, somewhat disappointedly. “Yes, mish only feels good if your clit is being rubbed – but for fuck’s sake, Harriet, is it the bitch’s job to rub her own fucking clit? What the fuck’s that cock for?”

Harriet looked momentarily intrigued – almost as if she’d never looked at it that way before. “But how’s he gonna rub my clit if he’s not allowed to lie flat on me?”

“Well, my dear, it’s all in the pacing, isn’t it? And that’s why boys have to learn to fuck mish before anything else! Here, lie back again, Harriet,” said Cunts, stroking her auto-dildo with one hand so that it rapidly developed into a huge throbbing erection. “Now watch this, boys. The audience wants to see you fuck like this.” She demonstrated, holding Harriet’s legs up and apart so her cunt was spread wide, but supporting herself so her dildo could slide completely in and out of Harriet’s slimy cunt without ever obscuring the view. “But that, unfortunately, does nothing to pleasure the bitch. For that you have to fuck like this” – and she plunged her rubber cock deep into Harriet’s cunt but shifted her position up her body so she could grind the base of it against the girl’s clit.”

“Oh fuuuuck!” yelped Harriet. “That’s good!”

“Haven’t you ever been fucked like that before, Miss Danes? Honestly, what did your parents teach you? Now, what about this?” Cunts shifted her position again, downwards, so her crotch was flat on the couch and her dildo could fuck Harriet’s cunt upwards, rubbing against her G-spot from the inside. Harriet went wild: “Oh Jesus fucking Christ, Professor, yeah, that’s fucking amazing!”

“No shit,” replied the Professor matter-of-factly, pulling her dildo, now slippery with Harriet’s pussy-juice, swiftly out. “Boys – that’s what you have to learn to do: pleasure your audience, and pleasure your bitch. And girls – likewise, pleasure your audience, and pleasure your stud. And if you can’t do that when fucking mish, then none of you will never be able to do it when fucking doggy, or eating cunt, or fisting asshole – or anything. You can’t fuck shit if you can’t fuck mish! Repeat after me!”

“You can’t fuck shit if you can’t fuck mish!” they chorused.

“Right! That’s why we are spending this whole fucking week on it. Understood?”

 “Yes, Professor Cuntslicker,” they chorused.

“CUNTS! Say it: ‘Yes, Cunts!’”

“YES, CUNTS!”

“That’s better. Now pair up: Harriet – Darren, Eva – Chad, Alison – Bradley, Claire – Joe. Get fucking – and I’ll be monitoring. Go!”

Mommy – Professor Cuntslicker is such an amazing trainer. She is strict, but she knows everything about fucking, and she sure is training us hard. On the first morning I got paired up with a skinny guy with, well, a not-very-big dick – called Bradley. At first I thought, “Oh my God, this is going to be so bad,” but Cunts taught him to use his dick to grind my clit, and then poke my G-spot. And she taught me how to position myself so the class could see my cunt-slime glistening on his dick and my tits jiggling as he fucked me. And she helped me to pace my fuck-talk so I could keep him hard, and get the class all hot for us, and then bring him over the edge at just the right time, and get all the others in the class jerking themselves off at the same time too. It was fucking!

Cunts has got an auto-dildo! You remember, I wanted one for my eighteenth – and you gave me tits instead. Don’t get me wrong – I love my tits. But maybe, Mommy, can I have an auto for my nineteenth, or maybe for Christmas – pretty pink please?

Poor monster-dick Chad didn’t do so well this morning. He ended up fucking Eva – you know, sister of that guy who fucked my ass on the train? – but Cunts was really giving him a hard time, like, “I wanna see Eva’s shiny black cunt-lips, and you’re blocking the view all the time!” – and so on…

Claire is a real good fucker – even mish. She is such a stunner, and she knew how to loosen her cunt as the dick went in, and squeeze tight as it came out, so as to give Joe maximum pleasure. I guess she must have practised that a lot at home. One thing, though, is she’s a bit shy with the fuck-talk: she can’t seem to get past “Oh yeah, fuck me” and boring stuff like that. Maybe I should offer her some coaching – whaddya think?

Oh, I almost forgot Harriet. She is so cute: she has huge GM tits and smokes cigarettes all the time – isn’t that sweet? I didn’t realise that in the olden days smoking was bad for you – I’m so glad they found a way to GM smoke-safe lungs, ‘coz I think it looks so pretty, and so sexy! But it drives Cunts up the wall: she kept saying, like, “For fuck’s sake, Harriet, stub out that fucking cig! I know it pleasures you – but not everybody else is pleasured by watching it!”

After lunch, we had our first fucking practice (FP). This week and next we’re working at St. Fartholomew’s Hospital (“Fart’s” for short), and we’re being supervised by our second course director, Dr Richard Dick (“Dick-Dick” for short).

“Cunts and cocks, gather round, please!” Dr Richard Dick was a slender, suave young man with unnaturally slick, black hair. “I would like to introduce you to the Head of Fucking at Fart’s, Doctor Jon Taylor – ex-RAF: we were in the same NDF class, weren’t we, Jon?”

“And fucked the same pussies, Dick-Dick.” Dr Taylor was tall and wiry, and wore a white lab coat. “Fuck a bitch, guys; suck my cock, girls” he said, turning to the class, as they gathered nervously in the foyer of the hospital. There was a jumbled murmur of “Pussy”, “Cunt” and “Bitch” in reply.

“Nervous? Don’t be. Dick-Dick always brings the new cohort of NDF students here for their first few FPs – simply because our patients are so grateful to have you here. We used to have a whole team of specialist Fucking Doctors and Nurses here – but in these difficult economic times we’ve had to make so many cutbacks. So our patients always look forward to these student visits. Now, let me introduce my two assistants today, Fucking Nurse Barbara…”

“M’ cunt, call me ‘Buns’,” waved brunette Barbara.

“I can see why she’s called ‘Buns’,” whispered Alison to Claire. Both nurses were dressed in identical skimpy white-and-red latex nurse fetish uniforms, with red crosses positioned over their tits – which in Buns’ case were huge, her large light-brown areolae half-visible over the top of her bodice.

“Yeah, what great boobs!” murmured Claire.

“… and Fucking Nurse Catherine.”

 “Call me ‘Cat’,” smiled Catherine, who was taller and skinnier than Buns, and sported long wavy blonde hair down to her ass.

“Not much in the way of tits,” whispered Claire.

“Yeah, but her ‘cat’ makes up for it – look!” giggled Alison – for peeping out below Nurse Catherine’s very short latex skirt was a mouth-watering pussy – hairless and plump, with swollen meaty cunt-lips which dangled toward the floor, and a red cross tattooed just north of her very large and very beautiful clit.

“Fucking!” whispered Claire. “I bags the red-cross Cat flaps! You can have the Buns.”

“We’re here to fuck the patients, not the nurses, you cunt-brain!”

“Cunts and cocks, please!” called Dr Taylor, calling the class back to attention. “Cat and Buns will take you on a brief tour of our fucking facilities, and then help to find your first fucks of the day. Dick-Dick and I will drop in frequently throughout the afternoon – but if you’ll excuse me, I am late for a fisting appointment, and I believe Doctor Dick has a throat to fuck back at the Academy. We will be back later, but for now I will leave you now in our nurses’ capable hands.”

Oh Mommy, what a fucking time I had this afternoon at Fart’s! Cat and Buns were telling us that, because of government cuts, the hospital now only have three fuckers on duty at any one time – Dr Taylor plus the two nurses – so usually the patients are all so fuck-starved and horny, the nurses are worked off their asses pleasuring them all. Unfortunately, this means they have to give very short appointments, so most of the time they can only give quick blowjobs or pussy-licks. So everybody loved having us students on the wards. The boys were supervised by Buns; we girls were with Cat. Many of the patients were injured, or in casts, or in traction – so they couldn’t actually do much fucking; so we got to give tons of blowjobs and eat loads of cunt! It was amazing watching the two nurses – they are such amazing fuckers, and so sexy in their outfits. Buns makes a specialty of tit-fucks: her uniform is open down the middle, so she can wrap her buns around a patient’s dick without even taking off her outfit! Cat is quite the expert at eating cunt: her tongue is long and floppy – like her pussy-lips – so she snakes and slurps deep inside. And when she gives blowjobs her tongue winds around and up and down the dick like a snake – which drives the men wild!

The best time for me came when the other three girls were in the next ward giving blowjobs, and Cat took me into a private ward where there was a guy who’d had a car accident, and had four broken limbs…

“Alison, this is Bruce; Bruce, say hi to Alison.”

“Suck m’ cock, Alison,” said Bruce.

“M’ pussy, Bruce.”

“I promised Bruce an extra special treat today, Alison. You see, because all four of his limbs are in plaster he can’t even jerk himself off, so he gets really horny.” Alison gave a sympathetic “awww”, while studying the cock-bulge in Bruce’s hospital gown. “Normally Bruce just gets a blowjob from me because there isn’t time for more – but he’s been asking me for weeks to eat my cunt. So maybe today I can let him do that while you suck his dick – is that okay with you?”

“Fucking!” exclaimed both student and patient together. Alison leaned over the hospital bed, pulled Bruce’s gown up to reveal his hard rod, already leaking pre-cum out of the swollen cock-head, and started to slowly lick the shaft up and down from glans to balls. Bruce groaned in ecstasy as she coated his cock with saliva, and then started to gently suck it. Cat climbed onto the bed, standing on the mattress facing the bedhead with her legs spread wide, then lowering her cunt onto Bruce’s probing tongue. “Fuuuuuck! thought Alison to herself, struggling to maintain concentration on her blowjob despite the amazing sight greeting her eyes. Cat’s outer cunt-lips were swollen and pink, and framed her long, meaty inner cunt-lips which dangled seductively downwards, glistening with little droplets of juice. Bruce started by gently flicking her cunt-dangle with his tongue, so that it jiggled and swung from side to side. But it wasn’t long before the scent and taste got the better of him and, wild with lust, his lips and tongue were licking and slurping maniacally at the gorgeous meaty fuck-flaps which dangled in his face. His cock was rock-hard between Alison’s lips. She started to stroke the spit-slimy cock with her fist, so she could launch into some fuck-talk: “Oh yeah, Brucey baby, you like it when I suck your cock? You gonna squirt your fucking come all over my pretty face?”

Cat joined in: “Eat my cunt, Bruce, fuck me deep with that tongue. You like slobbering my hot wet pussy, you horny stud? Yeah, chew that fucking clit, make me fucking come all over you.” But then Cat’s subject matter changed deftly and she started egging on Alison’s blowjob: “You like the way Alison’s sucking your dick, Bruce? You like fucking her student mouth? You gonna cover her pretty young face with your hot cum while you eat my cunt?”

It suddenly struck Alison what a consummate professional Nurse Catherine was – deliberately switching to include some fuck-talk about Alison’s blowjob, so that Alison could concentrate on sucking dick. “Brilliant, Cat,” Alison thought, her tongue swirling around Bruce’s cock-head as she lowered her lips down around his hard shaft again, and Cat continued her dual-purpose stream of verbal filth.

Just then, though, Alison felt something firm, but warm and flexible, probing at her cunt lips. “What the fuck?!” she yelped as she turned her head, only to see Dr Taylor standing behind her ass. He had slid her mini-skirt up over her buttocks, and was probing her fuck-lips doggy-style with what felt like a very fat dickhead.

“Just doing some quality-checking, Miss Bates,” said Dr Taylor with a glint in his eye, “so I thought I’d drop by to see how you were doing.” He slid his fat cock-head slowly into Alison’s cunt.

“And does my fuck-hole meet all health and safety standards, Doctor?” asked Alison, as she stroked Bruce’s pole with her hand. “Or do you have any concerns?”

“I will need to probe a bit deeper, just to make sure,” said the doctor – and he did.

“Oh yes, Doctor,” Alison continued, panting, “you can’t be too careful these days. You wouldn’t want any substandard cunts working in your hospital, would you? Go on, Doc, I think this cunt needs a thorough inspection.” And she rammed her ass backwards so her pussy swallowed the doctor’s dick balls-deep, squeezed tight with her fuck-muscles, and then pulled forward again, sucking his cock tight with her pussy as she did so.

It was the doctor’s turn to be caught off guard. “Oh Jesus fucking Christ, fuck,” he exclaimed with sheer pleasure, causing both Alison and Cat to turn around with mischievous grins as they watched their boss begin to lose control. Alison made the most of the opportunity, deliberately winking and gaping her asshole at the doctor, just an inch from where his cock was penetrating her pussy. Dr Taylor responded with another stream of lustful expletives as he gazed with desire at the rectal display in front of his eyes and started to ram his cock in and out of her cunt with untrammelled lust.

“Why don’t you fuck that asshole, then, Doctor Taylor?” asked Alison. “I think it also needs a health and safety inspection, don’t you?”

“Oh fuck…” Dr Taylor was clearly struggling to resist. “I can’t. It’s against the rules.” Cat guffawed loudly, clearly enjoying seeing her boss losing his professional grip.

“What rules, Doctor Taylor?” said Alison.

Cat, her wet cunt still plastered over Bruce’s face, interjected: “‘No assfucking on the wards’ – Fucking Byelaw number 33, Hospital Fuckers Code of Conduct 2048. It’s for ‘reasons of hygiene’.”

“Any rule against sticking your finger in there, though, Doc?” asked Alison.

“Uh, oh fuck, uh, maybe – I guess that’s kind of a grey area,” panted the doctor.

“I’ve never heard it called that!” exclaimed Alison with a wry grin, “Well then, stick your fucking finger in my ‘grey area’, Doc. I need it so bad!” bellowed Alison.

“Hey, suck my cock already!” muttered Bruce through a mouthful of pussy, clearly impatient that Alison had paused her cock-sucking to indulge in conversation with the doctor.

Cat shrieked with laughter, taking Alison’s cue and joining in the fuck-talk so Alison could go back to sucking Bruce off. “Yeah, Doctor boss Taylor, stick your fucking finger in that ‘grey area’. Go on, probe her pretty little student shitter with your finger, Doc. I bet you could even fit two in there, or three!” The doctor didn’t need much encouragement, sliding first his middle finger, then his index finger, then both into Alison’s squelchy asshole, then a third finger, and then frigging all three of them in and out of her gape, whilst still fucking her cunt with his rock-hard dick. A symphony of obscene noises filled the air: the squelch of cock fucking cunt, the dirty little wet poopy farts of fingers in asshole, the slurp of Alison’s mouth up and down Bruce’s cock, the wild slobbering of Bruce’s tongue in the nurse’s cunt, and of course Cat’s fuck-talk, which had reached new heights of depravity and expertise: “You like eating my hot juicy fuck-hole, Bruce? You like feeling your cock deep in that college girl’s mouth? And which is better, Doc – fucking that hot juicy cunt with your cock, or ramming your fingers into her dirty stinking shithole?” Cat clearly knew which aural buttons to press with her boss. “‘Coz you like asshole, don’t you, Doc? You’d love to ream out that filthy shit-cunt with that rod of yours, wouldn’t you? Go on, Doc, take that cock out of her cunt and shove it deep in her poop-chute. Let me hear the filthy squelch of your cock back-shitting her rectum. Go on, Doc, I won’t tell anyone!”

Dr Taylor could hold back no longer. “OH FUCK YEAH!” he bellowed, pulling his slimy fat dick out of Alison’ cunt and ramming it deep into her gaping ass. There was a filthy squelching sound and Alison screamed an ecstatic “FUUUUUUUUUUCK!”, her mouth still clasped around Bruce’s cock, as she felt the doctor begin to fuck her rectum. Cat’s verbal filth continued: “You like that feeling, Alison? You like feeling my boss’s cock reaming out your shit-chute? You like all that dirty fucking shit? You… – Oh, hello, Doctor Dick!”

In surprise, Alison spun her head around yet again. “Good afternoon, Miss Bates,” said Dr Dick as he stood in the doorway. “Are you enjoying your first day at the RAF?” His fly was open, and he was stroking his hard cock, which, whilst not particularly thick, was very long, with a swollen purple mushroom head. “Forgive me for interrupting, but I thought I should check how my students are doing on their first day of FP.”

“Mmmfff,” replied Alison, as Bruce shoved his cock impatiently back into her mouth, but Cat translated: “She’s doing just fine, Doctor Dick! She’s a natural.”

“May I join you, Doctor Taylor?” asked Dr Dick.

“Certainly, Doctor Dick!” replied Dr Taylor, his cock still sliding in and out of Alison’s asshole. “Perhaps you’d like to join me in young Miss Bates’ ass? That way neither of us need worry that we are somewhat, uh, stretching the… rules…”

“Oh yeah, Doctors, why not stretch the ‘rules’?” interjected Cat. “Stretch her fucking ‘rules’ with those cocks! I’m sure our little college slut doesn’t mind being stretched a bit!” Dr Taylor shifted his position upwards, climbed onto the bed, standing with his feet on the mattress, and crouching forward leaning over Alison’s back so that he could fuck Alison’s ass at a more vertical angle, leaving the lower portion of her asshole gaping invitingly at Dr Dick. The latter needed no further invitation, but slid his dick into Alison’s gaping hole to join his colleague’s. Alison screamed with pleasure: “AAAAARGH, FUCK YEAAAAAAAHmmff–” only to be silenced by Bruce’s cock being even more brutally shoved back into her mouth, as the two dicks in her ass started to pound her rectum in a perfectly synchronised alternating rhythm.

Cat was in her element: “Oh yeah, Al, are those doctor studs stretching the rules? You like feeling your ‘rules’ stretched by two big dicks at once? Two huge fucking cocks in your ‘grey area’, hey, bitch – is that good? Does the college bitch like being fucked double-doggy? Are you gonna make them come – make them fill up your fucking shithole with a double load of cock-cream?”

On cue, the two doctors started to come. Alison felt both cocks erupt in her ass, wave after wave of hot cock-slime shooting deep into her rectum. And then Bruce’s cock exploded too. Alison did the “Claire thing”, clamping her lips around his shaft to take his creampie into her mouth. Cat started to pant, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna fucking come!” Swiftly she lifted her cunt off Bruce’s mouth, stood up on the mattress and turned around at the head of bed to face them all while furiously rubbing her clit. For a second Alison wasn’t quite sure why – until Cat began to squirt. And what a squirt! It started modestly – just a little dribble down her thigh. Then a stronger squirt shot out of her cunt and hit Bruce, lying on the bed below her, in the face. The next squirt projected itself right down Bruce’s body, landing on Alison’ face, her mouth still clasped around Bruce’s spent cock.

“Oh yeah!” yelled Alison as she let Bruce’s gloopy cock slide out of her mouth, and turned her face upwards towards Cat’s now wildly squirting pussy, her gobful of jizz bubbling and frothing in her mouth. “Wigh’ i’ my magic ‘auldron!” she called through her mouthful of cum, opening her gargling mouth wide so Cat could continue to squirt into her mouth and all over her face. Alison was in a wild ecstasy of lust. “‘Um, ‘um, ‘um i’ my mouf!” she repeated, as her mouth filled with a delicious bubbling concoction of man-cum and cunt-squirt, the doctors’ double jizz load still swilling around in her gaping asshole.

“Give me that ass-cum!” shouted Cat. She leapt nimbly off the bed to reach Alison’s asshole, where the two doctors’ slimy cocks were still embedded. “Naughty Doctors, fucking asshole on the ward!” she scolded, as she pulled their cocks out of Alison’s massively gaping ass with another squelchy farting noise and proceed to lick and suck them both clean. Alison knew what she wanted, though. She closed her asshole tight to hold the huge cum-load safe in her rectum, and straightened up slowly, still gargling her magic potion of cum and squirt. Cat lay down on the floor looking up at Alison’s asshole, which Alison slowly lowered down over her face. And then Alison farted – a huge, noisy, wet, filthy double-cumfart, right into Cat’s mouth. Asshole-flavoured cum squirted out, splattering over Cat’s face and down her gullet, and she swallowed it like a cum-starved whore, deliriously muttering, “Oh yeah, oh fuck, yeah fucking shit-cum in my mouth baby,” as she used her long flappy tongue to wipe Alison’s asshole clean.

Alison gaped her butthole again, so Cat’s tongue could reach into its depths and lick the last few drops of cum out of her rectum. “You ‘ike ea’ing my ‘gwey awea’, Nurf Cafewine?” Alison asked teasingly, as best as she could with a mouth still full of cum and squirt. As Cat’s tongue continued to snake in and out of her rectum, Alison looked triumphantly up at the two men, opened her mouth wide to show off her gargled fuck-mixture one last time, and swallowed. She threw back her head and laughed out loud in glorious delight.

And then burped.

And then giggled.

CHAPTER FOUR:
FUCKING FUCK MY FUCKING CUNT WITH YOUR FUCKING FUCK-STICK

Friday 30^th September, 2050

Dearest Mommy,

I am sooooo sorry it has taken me so long to write. I have been so fucking busy – or vice versa! The first two weeks of this term have been the fuckingest I have ever had in my life. In Cunts’ classes we have been doing every variation of cock-in-cunt fucking I have ever heard of: mish, cowgirl, doggy, spoons, sideways, corkscrew, sitting, wheelbarrow, standing – you name it! I never knew there were so many ways of just getting my pussy fucked! Cunts really puts us through the mill, though – she won’t accept anything sloppy or self-indulgent: everything we do has to has to “pleasure the audience”, and “pleasure our partners”. It’s really hard work (no pun intended)!

My favourite fuck-partner among the boys is Bradley. I know I said he’s got a small dick – but he sure knows what to do with it! He’s just a really conscientious fucker. The other day, we were all doing piledriver. Whilst the other boys with their big GM dicks were just showing off their cock-size and stretching their bitches’ cunts wide so they could ogle their pink, Brad was really making sure he was pleasuring my G-spot all the time, so I just came again and again! At the end, the GM guys came loads of course, but wasted most of it on the floor, or on their girls’ stomachs or whatever – but Brad aimed his load perfectly, so it splattered right in the middle of my face, covering my nose and lips, with about half of it going straight into my mouth and onto my tongue so I could let it slowly dribble out down my chin. Cunts loved it – she made all the others come and admire the result. “This is how to do a facial,” she said, “with care and attention to detail!” Chad looked so fucking pissed off…

On the subject of facials, I really really really want an auto-dick! Never mind the fact that it goes from zero to a hundred in, like, one fucking second – it also comes like nothing on earth! Cunts was teaching Joe how to do a creampie in Claire’s cunt. She wanted him to do it closer to the entrance so the audience would be able to see his cum oozing out. He kept getting it wrong – either too deep in so no one could see anything, or too far out, so it wasn’t a creampie at all but just splattered her fuck-lips. Eventually Cunts got so frustrated she demonstrated herself. But oh my fucking God, that auto squirts out so much fucking cum! It was fucking pouring out of Claire’s cunt. The rest of us girls all crowded round to eat it out. And you know what? Auto-cum tastes so fucking amazing – just like normal man-cum, but sweeter and creamier, sort of like crème brûlée. You would love it, mom! Ask dad for an auto for Christmas so Hortense can fuck you with it when he’s away!

Last weekend was the Freshers’ Fuck – it’s like a big party where all the new students get to meet and fuck each other. I hadn’t realised, but most of the students at RAF are actually on short courses, like Introduction to Deepthroat, or Squirting for Beginners. Apart from our NDF, there are other longer courses, like PGCF (Post-Graduate Certificate in Fucking), and of course degree courses in History of Fucking and things like that. And there are a few students – like Andy and Anna, who work part-time as our receptionists – who are working towards their FDs (Doctor of Fucking). Andy’s dissertation is on Ass-Fucking in the Twentieth Century; he also lectures on the Anal Ab Initio short courses. I bet Daddy would love to meet him: they have so much in common! Anna’s FD is on Tits Through Time – and hers are huge, but completely natural, all soft and jiggly. Anyway, Andy cornered me at the beginning of the Freshers’ Fuck: he’d been wanting to fuck me all week, but I’ve always been too busy. Anyway, he fucked my ass doggy while I licked Anna’s nipples. It was weird, though: she kept writing notes about me as I sucked her tits, in her big curly pink hand-writing – research for her dissertation, I think!

I’ve been trying to be friendly to Eva – but she keeps giving me the cold shoulder. I dunno why. Maybe she’s mad at me for fucking her brother – but, for fuck’s sake, he’s the one who keeps messaging me, wanting to get together again “for coffee”! Coffee? Like, what the fuck is that for? I read up about it, and apparently in the twentieth century if a guy asked you home “for coffee”, what he really wanted was a fuck – but in those days he couldn’t just say so; so you had to have coffee first, to give him a chance to feel you up. At least, that’s what it is says in A Brief History of Fucking. Thing is, I’ve already fucked the guy – so why’s he now talking about coffee? I dunno what his problem is. Do you…?

So anyway, at the Freshers’ Fuck, after Andy had come in my ass, I tried again to get to know Eva. So I said to her, could I eat her cunt? (I think that’s pretty friendly, don’t you?) But she sneered, “No thanks, I’m sure you’d prefer to get fucked in that amazing asshole of yours. Besides, there are a whole bunch of guys waiting to fuck my throat.” What the fuck? I mean, she spends all her time getting throatfucked! I must admit she’s really good at it: Chad can’t get enough of her throat, maybe because she’s the only girl he’s met who can take his dick all the way down without throwing up. Every morning before class she sits in the Lab waiting for him. When he comes in, he just walks up to her, undoes his fly, and rams his dick right down her throat – sweet, don’t you think?

If Eva is becoming famous as the throat bitch, I think I’m in danger of being type-cast as the “amazing asshole”. Even in Fart’s the story’s clearly got around, because when I’m doing FP the patients keep beckoning me over and whispering, “Hey, can I fuck your ass?” – but I have to keep explaining that it’s “against the hospital rules”. Anyway, at the Freshers’ Fuck there were all these guys lining up to bugger me – which was so lovely of them, but seriously, how many dicks can a girl take at once?! So I did a gangbang, but after, like, the tenth guy had come in my ass, I was getting a bit bored. Ah, the price of fame!

You’ll be so proud of me: guess what I did on Sunday? I went to church! Harriet is a keen church-goer, and London is her home, so she knows all the best places. She took me to a place called All Cunts Langham Place: it’s not really your style – very charismatic and evangelical – but it was so amazing! Anyway, it was a special service for a girl’s Baptism by Cum. First she gave her testimony, about how she used to be a prude and had wanted to limit the number of guys she’d fuck (to, like, just one a day – can you imagine?!), but then the Horny Spirit came down on her (or was that “went down on her”? – I can’t remember) and she heard a voice telling her that she could pleasure God best by being a total slut. It was so moving to hear, it brought tears to my eyes. Then the minister laid his hands on her (tits), and then prayed and jerked off over her face (I think they call it “pray and spray”). Then she lay down on the altar, and all the elders of the church gathered around and gangbanged her. She was moaning and grinding her hips, and everyone around was fucking, and singing, and strumming their guitars, and getting “fucked in the Spirit”. Harriet was smoking two cigarettes at once and, like, waving them in the air while I sucked her big tits. Then she started doing this weird thing – I think they call it “fuck-speaking in tongues”. It sounded a bit like: “fucka shlandaya cocka shandala cunta dabbala fucka mashiya fucka cunta shlabadaduya” and so on. It was amazing: I must take you there if you ever visit. I think I’ll go again next week.

For the next two weeks the morning sessions are all about on-girl oral: sucking tits, eating cunt etc. I shouldn’t have any trouble with that, after the upbringing you’ve given me! But after that we start Introduction to Blowjobs – and I’m a bit nervous about that actually. I know you and Daddy have never really been into blowjobs like you are into anal – but it does mean I feel a bit out of my depth (no pun intended!) when it comes to sucking cock. Oh, I’m fine with normal cock-sucking – but you know I’ve never been good with anything down my throat. Some of the other girls are amazing throat-fuckers – Claire and Eva especially – I think I’m gonna find it a bit embarrassing. Well, hopefully Cunts will start us off nice and gentle.

It’s Friday night. Andy and Anna have invited a whole bunch of us out for a fuck on the town – I think they’re wanting to take in some fuck-clubs in Soho. I’m sure they’ll have a ball (literally!) – but Claire and I decided to have a quiet night in to eat some cunt, and so I can help her with her fuck-talk.

Fucks and kisses,

Your wittle fuck-swut,

Al

~

Claire and Alison walked hand in hand, topless, across the park towards Fuckers’ Hall, chatting about their day. The park was, as normal for this time of the evening, a hub for relaxed socialisation and sexualisation: Alison loved the atmosphere of London – so different from the stuffiness of Cunthorpe. There was a military band performing in the bandstand, and a number of couples and small groups were fucking to the music. The band had just struck up a new tune – clearly a novelty number, as they were doing actions and chanting along:

I knew a girl from Kansas City.
She had freckles on her titty.
Left, left, left right left.
I knew a girl on the Russian front.
She had freckles on her cunt.
Left, left, left right left.

“Oh, I love this one, it’s so funny,” cried Claire. “Come on, let’s watch them!” Alison and Claire stopped for a while. The band leader had got his erect cock out and was using it to conduct the band whilst doing a little dance – inducing fits of giggles and enthusiastic applause from musicians and audience alike. Alison slipped her hand into Claire’s slacks to stroke her ass affectionately, and Claire returned the compliment by pulling her close and gently sucking her outstretched tongue into her mouth, as their bare tits squashed gently together.

I knew a girl in ol' Kentuck.
She couldn’t ride but she sure could fuck.
Left, left, left right left.
I knew a girl in Boston, Mass.
She liked dicks up her ass.
Left, left, left right left.

By the time the girls had reached their hall and had some supper, the sun was beginning to set. Claire came back to Alison’s room and they both relaxed naked on the bed. “So,” started Alison, “shall I help you with your fuck-talk?”

“Oh, is it really that bad?” frowned Claire.

“Well, you heard Cunts: ‘Stop talking like you’re reciting a fucking shopping list, Claire!’”

“Oh Jesus, okay. So, how’re we gonna do this?”

“Let me eat you out, and you talk.”

Her face poised between Claire’s thighs, Alison took a few seconds to sniff her gorgeous scent, which was rich and potent after a full day’s fucking – a combination of sweat, cunt-juice, sperm, and just a hint of piss – belied by the tight, neat, pristine appearance of her bald pink slit. Of course, in reality there was nothing pristine about Claire’s cunt, and Alison began to lap at her fuck-lips with long slow up-and-down strokes of her tongue, relishing the heady taste of the cocktail of bodily fluids. Alison loved the taste of cunt – and Claire’s juices were the best: pungent, full-bodied and sweet, they began to slowly leak out as Alison teased her fuck-lips open with her tongue, gently exposing the soft glistening pink flesh inside.

Claire gasped with pleasure, her head thrown back in ecstasy – but said nothing. “Hey,” Alison interrupted Claire’s reverie, “you’re supposed to be talking!”

“Oh sorry, I forgot! Uh… lick my pussy…?”

Alison waited for more, her tongue poised just in front of Claire’s clit. There was silence. “Aw, come on, Claire, you sound like you’re introducing yourself to your bank manager. How about a bit of passion, a bit of horn?”

“Oh Jesus, I never know what to say, Al! You give me some examples, and I’ll copy.”

“Okay, okay. Just listen to this.” Alison sat up and closed her eyes, imagining it was Claire eating her out. “Oh yeah, baby, lick my fucking cunt with that hot tongue of yours. I love it when you poke your fucking tongue in my hot fuck-hole. Oh fuck yeah, that’s it. Now suck my clit, baby, I love getting my clit sucked by a hot slut like you. You’re such a fucking whore, baby, the way you eat me out. Oh yeah, now bury your fucking face in my juicy cunt, baby, yeah, eat it out, cunt-slut, coat your pretty fucking face with my hot fuck-sauce. Now stick your fingers in there, fuck my hole with your fingers while you eat my clit. You like that, huh? You like the taste of my hot pussy-juice all over your fucking face? You want more, baby? ‘Coz I’m gonna fucking come, baby, I’m gonna squirt my cunt-juice all over your fucking face so you can drink it down. I’m gonna –”

Alison opened her eyes, only to see Claire frigging her cunt hard with two fingers, her eyes rolling upwards in the ecstasy of an impending orgasm. “CLAIRE! WHAT THE FUCK!?”

Claire stopped. “Oh sorry, Al, that was just so sexy I couldn’t help myself!”

“Oh Jesus fucking Christ, Claire, you’re supposed to be learning dirty talk yourself, not just jerking off to mine.”

“Sorry, sorry, Al,” said Claire, licking the juice off her fingers, “I’ll try harder. Here, why don’t you fuck me with a strap-on? Maybe doggy at first? That way I can pretend it’s some guy fucking me, and I won’t feel so self-conscious.”

“Okay, whatever, let’s try it.” Alison retrieved her favourite fat pink strap-on from her bedside cabinet. “Do you want it ‘cumming’? I don’t have an auto, but this one comes loads.”

“Hey, why not? Then you can teach me how to talk with food in my mouth!” Claire giggled.

Claire did better this time: gradually, under Alison’s gentle coaxing, a stream of relatively convincing dirty talk started to issue from her mouth. “Oh yeah, baby, fuck me with that big cock of yours… I like feeling your dick in my pussy, baby… Yeah, that’s good, slide slowly in and out of my juicy cunt… You like fucking my hot pussy, baby? You like feeling my hot cunt squeezing your hard shaft? You wanna shoot your load in my cunt?”

“Whoa there, Claire. Don’t start talking about coming too soon. You know what boys are like: you just mention it once, and suddenly they’re jizzing all over the place!”

“Okay, good point. But am I doing better?”

“Yeah, it’s really sexy! Shall we ramp it up? Make it a bit dirtier!”

“Okay, here goes…” Claire took a deep breath, concentrated hard, and continued her monologue, as Alison picked up the pace of her fucking. “Come on, you fucking stud, ram that fucking cock deep in my fucking cunt! Yeah, split me in two with that fucking dick, I love it so much. Fuck me, goddammit, fuck me harder! Oh yeah, I’m gonna fucking come, baby, make me fucking come with that big cunt-fucking dick of yours! I – ” Claire suddenly paused, “Uh, Alison?”

“Yeah? Don’t stop now, that’s so good!”

“I really wanna come, babe – which is kinda difficult doggy. Will you fuck me piledriver, and then jizz on my face?”

“Sure. But don’t forget to keep up the fuck-talk!”

She didn’t. Claire turned over and lifted her ass high. As Alison stood over her, ramming her strap-on deep into her cunt, Claire went into overdrive, and gave up pretending that Alison was a boy: “You fucking bitch, yeah, fuck me with that hard fake cock of yours. You like watching my cunt get destroyed by your fucking strap-on? Split my fucking cunt in two, fuck me deep so I fucking come all over your fucking fuck-stick. Oh yeah, here it fucking comes, baby, I’m gonna fucking come, I’m gonna fucking come! Oh FUUUUUUCK!!!”

Alison pulled out and pressed the cum-release button. As Claire squealed and writhed from the pleasure of her own orgasm, Alison aimed straight down onto her face. The first squirt hit Claire right in her screaming mouth, making her gag noisily. The second landed on her eyes, temporarily blinding her. The third went up her nose, making her sneeze it out all over her tits. “Oh yeah,” Claire glubbed through her mouthful of dildo-cream, “‘um aw over me, babe. ‘Um aw over this pwetty fu’ing ‘um-swut of yours. ‘Uvver me with that fu’ing cweam. Fu’ing dwown me in ‘um, babe!” Indeed, the dildo kept coming, splattering the beautiful blonde with stream after stream of sweet fake cock-cream, till her hair, face, neck and pert little tits were drowned in warm gloopy fuck-mess. “Oh fu’ yeah, that feew so fu’ing goo’, baby, so fu’ing goo’…!” glubbed Claire as dildo-cum dribbled obscenely from her mouth and nostrils.

“So fucking good, I think you’ve learnt some pretty excellent fuck-talk, babe! See, all you needed was a bit of unpressured practice with someone you trust. High five!”

The two girls slapped right hands together triumphantly. Alison lay Claire’s ass back down on the bed and surveyed the mess she had made of her. “So, was that fun?”

Claire giggled as she parodied herself: “Fuck yeah, that was fucking fun fucking fuck-talking while you fucking fuck my fucking cunt with your fucking cunt-fucking fuck-stick, you motherfucking cunt-whore…”

Both girls collapsed with laughter – which was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Who is it?” they called out.

“Bradley. Can I come in?” The door creaked open tentatively.

“Brad! What’s up? Come join us.” Bradley, like all the out-of-towners at RAF, also roomed at Fuckers’ Hall – though he had never yet visited Alison in her room.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, if you’re fucking and stuff,” said Bradley, as he surveyed the sight of the two naked girls, one sporting a cumming strap-on still dribbling at the head, and the other caked in fuck-gloop.

“It’s okay, I’m just cleaning up!” glubbed Claire through a mouthful of dildo-cum, as she wiped the mess off her face, sucking it off her fingers and smacking her lips. “Didn’t you go out with Andy and Anna on their fuck-crawl?”

“Yeah, I did,” sighed Bradley. “But I wasn’t enjoying myself very much, so I thought I’d come back to the hall and have an early night. But then I heard you screaming, so I decided to pop in and see how you were.”

“We’re great, as you can see” laughed Claire, sticking her middle finger up her right nostril to retrieve a glob of dildo-cream. “But what went wrong tonight?”

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a fucker.” He shook his head despondently.

“Whaddya mean?” said Alison indignantly, unstrapping her dildo. “You’re a great fucker! Hey, you remember that pile-driver this week? Remember what Cunts said about you? Besides, who said you were no good?” She sucked the dildo clean, wiped it dry on her landing-strip (now heart-shaped), and started to put it away.

“Well, nobody seems to much like the fact that I’ve got a small dick, and…”

“Nobody? Who’s ‘nobody’? It’s six inches, isn’t it? You know, I was reading that in the twentieth century, that would have been considered bigger than average. It’s only now that everyone’s got huge GM dicks, they think that’s all that’s important. But don’t you remember what Cunts keeps saying: ‘It’s what you do with it that matters!’ And you sure know what to do with it!”

“Wait a moment,” interrupted Claire, as she wiped a glob of cream off her left nipple.  “Was someone giving you trouble about your cock-size tonight?” There was a long awkward silence. “Brad… Was it Chad and Eva again?”

“Yeah, maybe a bit,” said Bradley, clearly somewhat embarrassed. “Actually, Andy and Anna were really nice – but Andy was making a point of ass-fucking all the girls in the club – you know, research for his FD. And Anna was going around doing tit-sucking sixty-nines with loads of girls – also ‘research’, apparently. Harriet was giving smoky blowjobs, and then teaching Darren and Joe how to smoke – and I’m not much interested in that. And that left Eva and Chad. And Chad was showing off his big dick, and Eva was showing how she can deepthroat it right down to the balls. Then she started taking challenges from all the guys in the club – you know, “I bet a hundred euros you can’t make me gag”? When I tried to join in, she just said, ‘Fuck off, Bradley, your dick’s so fucking small you couldn’t make a fucking mouse gag.’ And then Chad started chanting, ‘Dinky dick! Dinky dick!’ and then everyone else joined in. So I just left…”

“Fucking bitch!” said Alison in horror.

“Fucking dickhead!” said Claire, incensed.

“Shit.” A long angry silence settled over them, until eventually Claire said: “Right, Alison, I think we have a mission now: to make Brad here feel good about his dick. Whaddya say?”

“I think that’s an excellent idea, Claire. I think we can put Bradley’s cock to good use. Brad – get it out!”

The girls did not wait for Brad to comply, but unzipped his fly, releasing his admittedly not-very-big cock which, despite the disappointments of the evening, was rapidly going hard. They knelt facing each other on opposite sides of Bradley’s member, which bobbed, stiff and horizontal, between them. They did not confer, but had perfect eye-contact over the top of Brad’s dick, and so knew exactly what to do, mirroring each other’s movements so that Bradley would be able to look down and see a perfectly symmetrical vision of cock-licking beauty. Initially it was their lips alone which caressed his cock, nibbling from base to cock-head and back again in a mirror-image pattern of little kisses. They then opened their mouths gradually wider so that their lips met, squashing together around Bradley’s thickening cock to make a moist seal which they proceeded to slide back and forth along the full length of his shaft, leaving it glistening with a thin film of saliva. Then their tongues began to get to work, gradually snaking around the underside of the shaft, squidging against each other so that little strings of spit formed which stretched and dangled from his rod. “Oh fuck, that’s amazing, girls – you sure know how to make a guy feel better!” moaned Bradley, as he watched the two hot tongues slobber and snake around his cock.

“Well, we like your cock, Brad,” answered Alison, looking up at him with twinkling eyes.

“Yeah,” chimed in Claire, “we think you know how to use it – better than Chad with his eight and a half fucking inches.”

“We’re your bitches, Brad,” added Alison. “You can fuck us anytime.” Bradley’s cock twitched in excitement as they shifted positions. Alison now crouched below his cock, looking straight up into his eyes as she sucked his balls into her mouth, one at a time, and then both together, releasing them each time with a little “pop” and a small dribble of saliva. In the meantime, Claire went for the frontal attack, swallowing his cock deep into her mouth and beginning a long slow drooling mouthfuck, just like the one Alison had seen her execute upon Jack two weeks prior. Her spit started to dribble and drool off Brad’s shaft, splattering into Alison’s face as she continued to suck his balls.

“You know, Brad,” Alison said, pausing her oral activity for a moment, “Claire and I have been working on her fuck-talk – but it’s kinda hard when you’ve got a cock in your mouth. How about you fuck her cunt so she can talk dirty to you? I’m sure she’d like the practise!”

“Aw, Alison, I’m too shy to do all that in front of Brad…” moaned Claire.

“Bullshit,” said Alison. “Come on, let him fuck you doggy, then you won’t be so embarrassed.”

Claire knelt down on the bed again, her ass in the air, reaching back with two fingers to spread her cunt-lips, inviting Bradley to fuck her wet pink hole. Soon Bradley’s cock was sliding in and out, and Claire was reciting her somewhat clichéd, but thoroughly effective, dirty talk: “Oh yeah, Brad, fuck me with that big dick of yours. I like feeling your cock in my cunt, Brad. Yeah, that’s good, slide slowly in and out of my wet pussy. You like fucking my hot cunt, Brad? You like feeling my hot pussy squeezing your stiff rod?”

Alison smiled. “Not very original,” she thought to herself, “but definitely serviceable. And it seems to be working.” Indeed, Bradley was clearly loving it, pounding his cock deeper and harder into Claire’s cunt, and twisting and twirling around to explore every internal cranny. Bradley had other ideas as well, though: he gathered a large gob of saliva in his mouth and spat it down onto Claire’s asshole, and then started to gently caress her tight, but newly lubricated, rosebud with the middle finger of his right hand. Alison watched in excitement, whispering, “Fuck yeah – go for her asshole, Brad!”

“Oh, oh fuck, oh no,” remonstrated Claire. “I’m really not great with anal, Brad. If you’re getting tired of cunt, I’d rather you fuck my throat…”

“Oh, you’re not… an ass-virgin, are you?” ventured Bradley cautiously.

“Oh Brad, for fuck’s sake, of course not – Jesus!” replied Claire, visibly insulted. “It’s just that… unlike Miss Assfuck here, my family is more into spit than shit – and I don’t have an amazing GM asshole like her – so just don’t expect gapes and winks and all that shit. And go slow at first, OK?!”

“Excellent,” said Alison, “It’ll be a doubly educational evening for you: first the fuck-talk, then the assfuck. What more could a slut want? Here, I’ll help you.” She too spat onto Claire’s asshole, watching as her spit and Brad’s pooled together in a slimy bubbly mess. Alison kept dribbling saliva down Claire’s ass-crack, as Brad kneaded it into her anus, gradually squelching in deeper and deeper until his middle finger was buried in beyond the second knuckle. “Now, Brad, wiggle your finger around in there. If you stroke the inside walls of her rectum, it’ll fool her ass into thinking she needs a dump, and it’ll gape wider.”

“Jesus, where did you learn that from, shit-slut?” said Claire.

“Hey, I was brought up properly! Try it, Brad. Yeah, that’s good – but not just back and forth, wiggle it side-to-side as well – that really does the trick.”

“Oh fuck, you’re right!” exclaimed Claire, as she felt Bradley’s finger tickling her rectal walls from all sides, and her sphincter beginning to loosen. “It’s like I’m full of shit!”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say…” quipped Alison cheekily.

“Oh, fuck off!” laughed Claire.

“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” joked Alison, “Brad’s finger is nearly as talented as his dick – but he benefits from being directed in his anal explorations by the nation’s greatest ass-whore: tell her to fuck off at your peril!” As if to prove her point, Alison was soon able to slowly slide her own middle finger in next to Bradley’s, so that they could both tickle the blond girl’s ass walls and gradually stretch and ease the sphincter even wider, Claire gasping and squealing at the novel sensations at her back-door. “Fuck yeah!” exclaimed Alison. “I think you’re definitely ready for a ‘dinky dick’ in there, Claire,” she giggled. “That’s one good thing about not being eight and a half inches, Brad: more girls are gonna let you fuck their ass!”

Alison watched, still drooling her natural lube into Claire’s ass-crack, as Bradley’s not-very-large dickhead nudged slowly into the blond girl’s puckered hole. Claire’s fuck-talk had stopped, as she bit her lip in concentration. But Bradley was very gentle, letting Claire’s ass gradually accommodate itself to each new half-inch of cock before slowly pushing in deeper. “Relax, Claire,” cooed Alison, “make like you’re shitting; as his cock moves in, your ass will open up more. Yeah, good, that’s it!” Eventually Bradley’s shaft was buried balls-deep, and Claire was moaning gently at the internal caresses of his cock. Then Bradley started fucking, slowly sliding his spit-lubed shaft in and out of Claire’s rectum, feeling her sphincter continue to loosen and widen as he did so.

Alison lay down, slid herself underneath, and buried her face in Claire’s cunt. As Bradley’s hard shaft continued to fuck slowly in and out of Claire’s ass, Alison licked, chewed, tongue-fucked and slobbered, letting the surplus spit dribble back down onto her face. As Claire’s asshole loosened still further, Bradley’s pace picked up. Claire, acclimatised now to the sensation of dick in her ass, and distracted by the sloppy pleasuring Alison was giving her cunt, was able to go back to concentrating on practicing her fuck-talk – ramping it up as she sensed her orgasm approaching. “Yeah, Brad, I love feeling that ‘dinky dick’ of yours deep in my fucking asshole! Yeah, split me in two with that fucking rod. You sure know what to do with that cock of yours!”

“Nice, Claire, nice,” thought Alison. “Again, a bit clichéd, but really good style to incorporate the ‘dinky dick’ thing and parallel it with ‘fucking rod’: a touch of cheeky humour that’ll make Brad feel good about his dick, help him to ignore Eva and Chad’s taunts – as well as keep him hard. Couldn’t have done it better myself.” But the sight of Bradley’s slimy shaft sliding in and out of Claire’s tight asshole just inches from Alison’s face was too mesmerising for words. She watched in delight as Claire’s anus stretched outwards, slightly convex – “like a puffy nipple,” she thought – as Bradley’s dick pulled outwards, until her sphincter bulged as wide as it could go from the dickhead lurking just inside; then, just as it seemed that Bradley’s cock was bound to pop out, it would change direction of travel, and Claire’s anus would become concave again as Bradley’s cock squeezed back into its warm depths. “Oh fuck, that’s beautiful!” Alison exclaimed enthusiastically. “Please, can I taste her ass on your dick, Brad?”

Dutifully, Bradley pulled his cock out, leaving a cute sloppy little gape (“a gapelet,” Alison thought) in its wake, and slid his rod into Alison’s open mouth. Alison swirled her tongue around the shaft, tasting the heavenly mixture of cock, pre-cum, spit and ass. “Oh yeah, I love that fucking shithole taste on your cock, Brad” she exclaimed ecstatically. “Give me a taste of cunt now!” Brad obeyed, dipping his cock balls-deep into Claire’s wet pussy, and then offering it to Alison to slurp off the fuck-juice. And so the cycle continued, Bradley fucking his cock in and out, from mouth to ass to mouth to cunt, and back to Alison’s drooling gob again to be awarded a new coating of spit to lubricate its next visit to Claire’s tight rectum. “Oh yeah, Brad,” Alison muttered, “You get a choice of three hot holes to fuck now. Which one do you like best, dinky – mffff…?” Bradley’s cock rammed into her mouth, muffling her dirty talk temporarily and making saliva dribble out and down her chin. “Mmmmaybe you like her stinky tight asshole best, with her cute little baby gapes? – or that sweet hot juicy cunt? – or maybe my drooling dirty-talking – mmfff…. OH YEAH, FUUUUUCK!” she screamed with sheer filthy pleasure.

Claire was loving it too, and was soon squealing, “Ram that fucking cock in my cunt and ass, Brad, that’s so fucking good! I’m gonna come, Brad, make me fucking come while you fuck me with that cock!”

Bradley was nearing his climax too, muttering, “Oh yeah, you two beautiful bitches, I’m gonna fucking come. Where do you want me to put it?” But he never heard an answer to the question, for at that moment, there was another knock, and the door creaked open.

“I’m not interrupting, am I?” came a voice.

Bradley and Claire froze, startled – Bradley’s cock buried half-way into Claire’s ass, his balls dripping with spit. Alison paused, wiped the saliva from her eyes, and twisted round, craning her neck to peer around Claire’s buttock towards the door – where she saw a familiar face smiling at her. A black face, with twinkling eyes and a sympathetic grin.

“Rob! What the fuck?”

CHAPTER FIVE:
FUUUCK … FUUUCK …

“Hey, Alison, suck my cock! How’re you doing?” said Rob, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her spit-covered face peeping out from under Claire’s ass.

“Shit, Rob, I wasn’t expecting you. But… come in…” said Alison uncertainly, not really knowing what else to do. “Claire, Brad: this is Rob – Rob: Claire and Brad.”

“Suck my cock, Claire,” said Rob politely. “Fuck a bitch, Brad.”

“M’ pussy,” muttered Claire. “Bitch,” grunted Brad. Both were surprised to see a total stranger – and a black man to boot, walk through the door. And both were thoroughly nonplussed to have been interrupted mid-fuck.

Alison peered out from underneath Claire’s ass. “Uh, Rob, Brad and Claire were just about to come. Do you think they could finish off?”

“Oh, sure, of course, so sorry to interrupt – I just happen to be here for the weekend, and –”

“Later, Rob, later” interrupted Alison. “In the meantime, how about putting your cock to good use? Claire, you remember I told you about that black guy who fucked my ass on the train? Well, here he is! I bet you’ve never sucked black dick before – and this one is fucking huge! You want him to fuck your throat?”

“Hey, why not? A spit-roast – fucking! Rob, come here and ram it deep! Brad, keep fucking my ass: I wanna come with two cocks inside me.”

Rob seemed slightly reluctant. “Actually, I just dropped by to see Alison – I can come back later if you prefer?”

“Alison’s not fucking going anywhere,” replied Claire frustratedly, “and nor are you – so get your cock out and fuck my throat, boy!”

Courteously, Rob moved to Claire’s front end, unzipped his fly and took out his flaccid but huge black dick which he gently proffered to her. “Fuuuuck!” exclaimed Claire, in awe at the massive member now dangling in her face, sticking out her tongue to taste the bell-end.

Rob leaned forward to shake Bradley’s hand: “Very nice to meet you, Brad: any friend of Alison’s is a friend of mine.”

Bradley shook Rob’s hand, and replied with a somewhat more perfunctory “Yeah, fuck, hi.” Alison wasn’t sure whether he felt a bit jealous of Rob’s cock size, or whether he knew whose brother Rob was, or whether he was just concentrating on the exquisite sensation of his hard cock still deep in Claire’s tight asshole – which, with perfect concentration and control, he slowly resumed fucking.

Rob was still smiling at Alison, his eyes twinkling with delight at the sight of her face peeping out from under her friend’s body – and he seemed to have forgotten that he was supposed to be fucking Claire’s face. But Claire was having none of it. “Fucking fuck my throat, boy!” she shouted, as she grabbed Rob’s buttocks and dragged him towards her, so that his entire cock disappeared into her gullet in one go. Claire’s throat emitted a loud gagging noise – but she didn’t release him until her tongue was enfolding his balls from below and her eyes were bulging and watering with pleasure.

Rob was still grinning at Alison. “What the fuck is his problem?” Alison wondered to herself. “Why doesn’t he concentrate on the throat he’s supposed to be fucking?” Alison defiantly stuck her middle finger up at him to try to convince him to do just that – but Rob just grinned even more broadly. “Fucking hell,” she sighed in despair, as she slid her head back under Claire’s body, out of Rob’s sight, so she could resume eating Claire’s cunt. It took some more coaxing from Claire to convince Rob to fuck her throat as roughly as she wanted – but at last his black dick was as hard as it was huge, pounding balls-deep in and out of the blonde girl’s throat, who quacked and gagged noisily as geysers of spit erupted from her gullet, splattering all over Rob’s cock, dangling obscenely from his shaft, and splashing down onto Alison’s cunt below.

What with Alison’s skilled oral ministrations upon Claire’s pussy and Brad’s perfectly calibrated ass-pounding, it was not long before Claire was moaning with her impending orgasm. As it washed over her, she screamed one loud long “FUUUUUUUUUaargh!!!” from deep in her gullet before being gagged by another deep thrust from Rob’s cock.

Bradley was again nearing his climax. “Where do you want my cum, Claire? Ass or cunt?”

“What about both of you jerk off over Claire’s face?” suggested Alison.

“Wait a moment, Al,” remonstrated Claire, “I’ve already had a load in my face tonight, and I’ve come twice. I think you deserve something special. Come on, boys, both of you jack off over Alison now, while I eat her out. She’ll look so pretty with all your cum over her face!”

And so Alison knelt on the bed, both men jerking their dicks off into her face. Bradley was clearly very close to the edge, but, ever the professional, was holding back so as to give Rob a bit more time. Rob was gazing into Alison’s pretty face with a mixture of lust and adoration, his eyes still twinkling with delight. Claire knelt on the floor so she could reach Alison’s pussy, locked her lips around her clit, and began to finger-fuck her cunt hard. “Oh fuck, Claire,” whimpered Alison, “that’s so fucking good, you’re gonna make come. Oh yeah guys, can you jizz all over my pretty face as I come? Can you do that for me, boys? Go on, jerk those fucking dicks off on my fucking slut-face. Oh yeah, Claire, rub my fucking clit, make me come now, I’m gonna fucking come, I’m fucking coming, oh yeah, OH FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!” Alison screamed, as her orgasm overtook her. At exactly that moment, both dicks exploded. Rob’s cum squirted out in fat streaks which flew through the air in great arcs, landing in Alison’s hair, on her forehead, on her cheeks, in her eyes, and on her puffy round tits. By contrast, Bradley’s cumshot was perfectly timed and perfectly aimed, sharp and efficient: the first three shots squirted straight into Alison’s open mouth, the next two over her nose, the remaining on her cheeks, so that his cream plastered her face and poured down her chin, forming long gloopy strings which dangled like an old man’s beard.

Claire slowly worked her tongue up Alison’s body, from cunt to belly to tits to neck to face, methodically but noisily slurping up every stray drop of man-cum on the way, repeating “Fuck yeah” to herself as she went. As she did so, Alison sucked the two messy spent dicks in turn, sucking out the last few drops of jizz and licking both shafts from balls to glans, guzzling all the precious cock-cream into her mouth. She savoured the heavenly cocktail: Rob’s huge black cock coated with deepthroat spit-slime, Bradley’s smaller white dick tasting of a mixture of cunt and asshole, all topped off by two different flavours of cum. Once Claire’s tongue reached Alison’s face, the two girls tongue-kissed passionately, sharing the combined taste of jizz, cunt and shithole, intertwining tongues around the two gradually softening cocks.

Smiling from ear to ear, Claire looked up at Bradley. “Hey, Brad, I don’t care what anyone says, you’ve got the greatest dick I know, and you can fuck me any time – cunt or ass.” Alison agreed: “Perfect aim, Brad – a facial Cunts would be proud of.”

“Well,” said Bradley honourably, “our new friend here helped out. What did you say your name was? Rod?”

“Rob. Rob Daniels.”

“Daniels? No relation to Eva Daniels…? replied Bradley, a look of alarm crossing his face.

“She’s my sister. Do you know her?” replied Rob enthusiastically.

Bradley paused, thought, steeled himself, then replied diplomatically, “Yes… but not very well…” He suddenly started studying his flaccid cock, which he folded back into his trousers, zipping up his fly. Claire got up and followed him towards the door, leaving Alison still kneeling, licking the last few smears of cum from Rob’s balls.

Rob looked down at Alison and said, “I’ve been so looking forward to seeing you again, Alison.”

“You came to see Eva for the weekend?” she said, getting up and sitting on the bed.

“Yes, but she’s gone out this evening fuck-clubbing with some friends, so I thought I’d drop in to say hello to you.” Alison remained silent, not quite knowing what to say, her mind a jumble of thoughts: Why was Rob being so friendly to her? Why was Eva such a bitch? What had either of them said to the other about her? What the fuck was going on?

Rob didn’t seem to have that much to say either, but sat on the edge of the bed gazing at Alison with what appeared to be an expression of unalloyed delight. Alison smiled back politely, shuffling uncomfortably from one naked buttock to the other. Claire watched, eyes darting from Brad to Rob to Alison, curious and a bit confused by the strange awkwardness which seemed to have descended upon the gathering. At least, she knew why Brad felt awkward: he had been called a “dinky dick” by Rob’s sister, who had refused to let him fuck her throat (“Bitch!”). But what was up between Rob and Alison? “Maybe he just wants to fuck her ass again…?” Claire wondered silently to herself. Eventually she decided that the best thing would be to leave them to it, and so she suggested out loud: “Hey, maybe me and Brad had better go and have a shower and leave you two to have a nice private fuck?”

But Alison wasn’t having any of that. “No no, Claire, don’t go, please. I need you here.”

Rob shifted awkwardly. Claire wasn’t sure what to say. What about that amazing assfuck on the train Alison had told her about? And hadn’t he just covered her face with his cum? He certainly had an amazing and very handsome dick, and – and Claire knew this now from personal experience – he knew what to do with it. So why was Alison so cautious?

Similarly oddly, Rob seemed to just want to sit and gape at Alison. “Just fuck her already, if that’s what you want!” Claire thought to herself. “And if you don’t want to do that, why the fuck are you just sitting there staring at her?”

Eventually it was Rob who broke the silence. “Alison, I was wondering if you might like to go out for coffee or something…?” His voice faltered under Alison’s incredulous gaze.

“Coffee? Coffee? What is it about coffee? I don’t like coffee!” replied Alison, her anxiety levels rising.

Rob looked mortified. “Or a drink? Or a meal? Or just a walk? It would just be lovely to catch up, I thought…”

“Catch up? With what? You fucked my ass on a train! Lots of guys fuck my ass. I don’t have to fucking ‘catch up’ with them! You can fuck my ass again, if that’s what you want. You just came over my fucking face – and deepthroated my best friend! I mean, what else are we girls good for? ‘Coffee’ – what the fuck? You don’t have to woo me, Rob, if you want to fuck me.” Alison was aware that she was becoming incoherent – but felt so confused and frustrated she hardly knew what to say.

Rob was beginning to look desperate. “Oh, Alison, I’ll do whatever you want. In fact, I… I… I’ll do anything you like, just to be with you… I… I…”

Rob was scrabbling for words – or at least, he knew what he meant but didn’t yet dare say it – for he knew that, in post-Enlightenment white man’s Europe he mustn’t. But suddenly Claire understood, long before Alison. “Oh fuck,” said Claire, as the penny dropped, “you don’t mean you… you…” She gestured back and forth between Rob and Alison, looking into Rob’s face with a “don’t tell me” sort of expression. “Oh fuck. Okay, now me and Brad had better leave you alone for a while, you two. No Alison, don’t stop me, Rob’s got something to tell you. Rob, tell her straight. It might not go down well, but you’re in too deep now. Oh fuck, oh fuck,” she muttered to herself, as she walked, still naked, to the door, pulling Bradley by the cock. “I’ll be in my room, Alison, if you want to talk…”

As the door shut, Alison frowned after Claire, holding her hands up with a “what the fuck?” sort of expression on her face. Turning to Rob, she felt she had no choice but to ask him straight, “Rob, what the fuck is going on? What are you not telling me? Why are you here?”

Rob averted his eyes, bowed his head, and said, very slowly, “Alison, I’m sorry – but I think I’m in love with you. And I want to marry you.”

There was a long pause.

“Oh fuck.”

Alison paused again.

“Oh fuck.” Alison said it again.

“Oh Jesus fucking Christ, of all the stupid fucking things.”

“I wasn’t sure how you’d take it…” said Rob, tentatively.

“How the fuck did you expect me to take it, Rob? One – you’re black: by rights, you shouldn’t even be in this country. Two – you’re sterilised: how the fuck would we ever have children? ‘C’ – sterilised or otherwise, you’re not allowed to marry white girls: that’s the law. Five –” and Alison was speaking more stridently now, “what the fuck does ‘love’ have to do with getting married anyway? And how the fuck do you know you’re in ‘love’ with me, just from fucking my ass? We live in an Enlightened continent, Rob – or has Mister Daniels not fucking noticed? Here, we fuck for pleasure – pure pleasure. And ‘love’ has fuck-all to do with it! Six –” and now Alison’s voice was reaching fever pitch, “in case you hadn’t noticed, I am a fucker! I am going to be the greatest fucker this country has ever known, because this is one of the greatest and noblest callings anyone can have, and nothing and no one with their fancy alternative philosophical notions about ‘love’ is going to stop me. And… uh… four,” – Alison lowered her voice conspiratorially – “this talk is fucking dangerous! Do you know what they will do to you if they find out that you, a black man, have been declaring love to a nice, well brought up, white fuck-slut? You could be culled, Rob, for fuck’s sake – is that what you want?!” Alison stared in anguish at Rob, her hands trembling.

There was a long silence. Rob’s eyes were moist and his lips twitched. Eventually, his eyes downcast, he said softly, “I’m sorry, Alison. I’m sorry. Okay, I’ll go now. Please forgive me. I won’t bother you again.” Rob stood up, walked to the door, opened it, and paused. If he was hoping to be able to say anything back to Alison, or indeed if he was hoping for a change of mind from her, he was mistaken, for Alison added, as a strident afterthought, “And what the fuck is wrong with your sister? She refuses to talk to me – or even let me eat her cunt! She calls me ‘amazing asshole’, calls Brad ‘dinky dick’, and – get this – refuses to let him fuck her throat! What the fuck is that all about?” Rob did not reply, but, eyes still downcast, nodded and, without a backward glance, left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Alison sat on the edge of her bed, naked, shivering, dishevelled, and smelling slightly of semen. “FUUUUUUUCK!” she screamed hoarsely at the door – but this time it wasn’t out of pleasure but agony. “FUCKING DICKHEAD! WHAT THE FUCK? GO FUCK A DOG, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! HOW DARE YOU?!” She began to bawl uncontrollably. “No, no, no. Why is this happening to me? Oh fuck, what do I do now? What do I fucking do?”

Alison leapt up and ran, still naked and sobbing, to the door, and down the corridor to Claire’s room. She did not bother to knock, but barged straight in, whimpering, “Claire, baby, help me. I need help. Oh fuck…” Claire and Bradley were sitting naked side by side on Claire’s bed, watching a fuck-flick on the screen. They had obviously been jerking each other off, as the fingers of Brad’s left hand were glistening at the spread lips of Claire’s pussy, and Claire’s right fist, smeared with cum, was wrapped softly around Bradley’s semi-flaccid cock.

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry,” said Claire, leaping up to give her friend a hug. “What did he say?” Claire kissed Alison on the lips tenderly, accidentally smearing cunt-juice on her right cheek and man-cum on her left. Bradley continued watching the screen – which showed a voluptuous young blonde kneading her tits and making eyes at the camera whilst issuing jerk-off instructions – but helpfully turned the volume down so the girls could talk.

Alison recounted her brief conversation with Rob, as best as she could through her sobs. “What do I do? What do I do?” she repeated. “How dare he violate me in this way? All I did was let him fuck my ass – like any decent girl would – and now tells me he loves me?! Oh God, the shame… How will I ever tell Mommy and Daddy?”

“Fuuuck… fuuuck…” crooned Claire comfortingly, as she gently kissed Alison’s face, stroked her hair out of her face, and caressed her breasts. “It wasn’t your fault – remember that.”

“Oh, but what will people say if they find out? They’ll say I was asking for it, that I led him on, that I wasn’t dressing sluttish enough!” Tears flowed down Alison’s face uncontrollably, and her nose was running. “And all I did was let him fuck my ass!”

“And come on your face…” added Claire, helpfully.

“Yeah, okay – but for him to go from that to saying he loves me! NO, NO, NO!!!” Alison dissolved into anguished sobbing again.

“Fuuuck… fuuuck…” Claire comforted Alison, tenderly licking the tears and snot off her face, and stroking her breasts. “Hey baby slut, you’re too upset to go back to your room tonight. How about you stay here with me, sweet cunt, so I can make you feel better? Fuuuck… fuuuck…” Bradley continued to stroke his cock as he watched the fuck-flick; the girl on the screen was now sticking alternate fingers in her pussy and slurping her juice off lasciviously.

“Oh, thank you, babe: is that okay? Maybe I’ll feel better in the morning,” Alison snivelled, sticking out her tongue needily; Claire gently sucked it between her lips, making Alison dribble spit down her chin. “Baby,” whimpered Alison, “I feel so violated, so tainted. I need to feel like a fucking slut again. Please can you spit on me? I think that’ll make me feel better.”

“Of course, babe,” replied Claire, gathering a gob of saliva in her mouth before spitting it in Alison’s face, so that it oozed down her nose. Alison nodded gratefully. “You need to be treated with respect for a change,” continued Claire. “Fuuuck… fuuuck…” She hawked more sputum from her throat, spitting it over Alison’ face. “Do you want me to piss on your face too, baby? I can do that for you if you want.”

“No, just spit on me; my Mommy always does that when I’m upset. I just need to be treated like a filthy whore again. All this ‘love’ shit has fucked my brain.”

“Fuuuck… fuuuck…” crooned Claire soothingly, continuing to spit into Alison’s face, then rubbing the warm slime all over her cheeks and forehead. “Kneel down, Al,” she said, then called: “Hey, Brad, quit watching that fuck-flick, and come here and put some cum on Al’s face. She needs reassuring.”

“Sure thing,” said Bradley. His cock was fully hard again, thanks to the girl on the screen, who was now enthusiastically ramming her whole fist in and out of her cunt. He got up, still stroking his dick, walked over to Alison, and very efficiently sprayed half a dozen spurts of cum onto her face.

“There,” said Claire reassuringly. Now you look like a proper fucker again. Do you want me to take a picture?”

“No, I’ll just look here.” Alison walked slowly over to Claire’s full-length wall mirror, and looked at her reflection. It was a relief to see her own face covered with a gloopy mess of spit, snot and cum – she really did look like a fucker, not like the beloved child-bearing wife Rob wanted her to be. “Oh, you know how to make me feel better, guys – thank you,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion as her eyes teared up and her nose began to run again. She inserted her middle finger in her cunt, tasted it, and then stuck it up in an obscene gesture towards her reflection in the mirror while pouting her lips sluttishly. “This is what life is meant to be like,” she said out loud to her reflection. “Pleasure. Pure fucking pleasure. None of this ‘love’ shit.”

“Too fucking right!” said Claire.

~

Alison stayed the rest of the weekend in Claire’s bed. She politely declined Harriet’s invitation to join her at All Cunts again on Sunday morning. Claire cared for her friend with immense tenderness, sleeping with her arms wrapped around her, her head resting against her tits, stroking her hair and face, licking her nipples, gently nibbling her cunt when Alison needed the reassurance. She whispered sweet nothings at her, to help rebuild her self-esteem: “You’re such a slut, baby… You’re the dirtiest bitch I’ve ever met…”

“Oh baby, that’s so sweet,” Alison replied, venturing a smile. “Can you get Brad to come in and jerk off all over my face again? I think that would make me feel better about myself.”

Bradley, as ever, was the most efficient fucker friend either of the girls could have dreamt of: always ready to lend his cock when needed, always ready to sit in the background and jerk off to a fuck-flick when the girls just needed cunt-time. And that is just what he was doing on Sunday afternoon, two days after Rob’s ill-fated visit, watching – as it happened – his favourite bukkake video on Claire’s screen while the girls quietly ate pussy. “That’s an idea,” he said suddenly. “Do you want me to get some other guys in, Al? We could give you a bukkake party or something? Would that improve your self-esteem?” he suggested, helpfully.

“Aw, that’s such a sweet idea, Brad – but no thanks, I don’t really want anyone else to know what’s happened to me.”

“Alison – don’t you think you should report this incident to the police?” suggested Claire, from between Alison’s thighs. “Or at least to the RAF? You know, he might be a serial offender. We don’t want him going and telling other girls he loves them, you know…”

“No!” responded Alison vehemently. “Yeah, I know what you’re telling me, that it’s not my fault and all. But actually – think about it – he’s black. And so he had to be sterilised to stay in this country – so the worst he can do is really upset people, like he’s done to me. He can’t marry anyone, and – oh fuck that’s good, lick my clit just there – and… and he can’t make anyone pregnant. And if the authorities find out, well, you know what they’ll do to him.”

“What?” asked Claire, looking up with glistening lips. “Kick him out? That wouldn’t be too bad. Then he can go back to fucking Africa or wherever his family’s from, and fall in love with as many girls as he wants.”

“Claire, don’t you read any of the books on our reading-list?” asked Alison incredulously.

“Uh, no, not really. Which one should I have been reading, to satisfy my insatiable curiosity about the what happens to black people behaving badly?”

“Ha ha. The Ethics of Fucking, by Aslan Asfuk, since you ask – just a bit higher, yeah, fucking Jesus, that’s good, now stick a finger in there – but the fact is that in the European Union, those who breach the terms of their stay permit don’t get expelled any more, they get culled.”

Claire drew breath sharply and sat up, her face shining, the tip of one finger still in Alison’s cunt. Bradley stopped jerking off to his bukkake flick, and turned his head to listen. There was a long pause, broken only by a muffled “Oh yeah, come all over my fucking face, guys” from the screen. Bradley turned the sound down. “So, are you happy to just forget about the boy then?” he asked.

“Well, I’m feeling a lot better now, thanks to you guys,” replied Alison as she licked some of her own cunt-juice off Claire’s lips. “And I doubt he’ll try it on again.”

~

Sunday 2^nd October, 2050

Dearest Mommy,

Just a quick message to say that something really awful happened on Friday night: a man told me he was in love with me. I know you won’t be angry at me, because I’m sure you know I would never do anything to encourage such behaviour. I never gave him any reason to believe I was anything other than a dirty assfucking whore: actually, he’d just come all over my face… It was really upsetting at the time, but I think I‘m starting to feel better now. Claire and Brad are being really good to me. So please don’t worry – and whatever you do, don’t come charging down here. I really will be fine… I’m even gonna go to Confession this evening, to make me feel better!

Your dear filthy cunt whore daughter,

Al

xfxfxfxfxfxf

~

Wankminster Cathedral was a dim, cavernous building, with a dark, unpainted ceiling which appeared to stretch upwards into nothingness. Smoke from flickering candles and burning censers hung in small clouds, adding to the ethereal atmosphere. There was no mass being celebrated when Alison walked in, but a few people were dotted around on the pews or kneelers – mainly individuals praying, and a few couples quietly fucking or giving head. The gloom of the building gave everything an air of moving at half speed. Even the couples dotted around the back pews seemed to be fucking with slow, quiet deliberation: “Weird,” thought Alison. “That guy even looks like he’s coming in slow motion…”

The queues for Confession were long, but Alison spent the time in line half-heartedly muttering a couple of Eat My Cunt Marys as she fingered the silver cock pendant on her rosary: it somehow seemed more appropriate in the circumstances than jerking off. It really didn’t seem long before Alison was entering a confessional, shutting the door gently behind her, and kneeling. “Forgive me, Fucker, for I have sinned,” she spoke into the gloom.

“How long has it been since your last Confession?” came a voice, slightly muffled by the latticed screen which separated priest from penitent.

“Oh, a long time, Fucker. I… I’m not usually very religious, I’m afraid. My mom keeps saying I should go to Confession more often: she used to bring me regularly, but I’ve kind of lapsed recently.”

“Tell me, then, what is troubling you.”

“Well, it’s a bit embarrassing, but… someone – a man – told me… he loves me.”

Alison heard a sharp intake of breath. There was a long silence before the priest spoke again: “Are you all right? Have you sought help? We have an abuse helpline, you know.”

“I have good friends, Fucker, and they have been very helpful. And my parents are very supportive. Thank you, but I think I’ll be able to get through this.”

“Forgive me for asking, but – did you do anything to encourage this kind of treatment? Did you give any indication that you are ‘that sort of girl’?”

“No, Fucker, I promise, no. I mean, I’m doing fucking at the RAF. I’m a total slut. The man had fucked my ass before, and he’d only just come over my face when he said this.”

“Good. In which case, you have done nothing wrong – and there is nothing you really need to confess.”

“Thank you, Fucker. That makes me feel better.”

“You must forgive the man, you know. He is clearly very disturbed. Do not hold it against him – despite the way he has treated you.”

“I will try, Fucker.”

“Is there anything else you wish to confess?”

Alison thought. “I don’t think so, Fucker.”

“In which case, your penance is to say one Our Fucker and five Eat My Cunt Marys. Now, please make your act of contrition.” Alison heard the priest slide a panel in the screen sideways, revealing a round gloryhole some three inches in diameter. Alison leaned forward, placed her mouth at the hole, and opened wide – just like her Mommy had taught her to. Through the hole slid a thick shaft of flesh – hard, sweaty and smelling faintly of sperm and pee, filling Alison’s mouth so that she gagged slightly. The presbyterial cock then began to slowly fuck her mouth through the hole. Alison heard heavy breathing from the other side of the latticework, as the priest intoned:

“Do you believe in God, the Fucker Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth?”

“I do,” said Alison as best as she could with a cock in her mouth. Spit dribbled off her chin and down the latticed screen.

“Do you believe in his only Son, our Lord, who was born of the Fuckslut Mary, was crucified, died, and was buried, rose from the dead, and is now seated at the Right Hand of the Fucker?”

“I ‘oo.” The cock was fucking her face more forcefully now, even brushing against the back of her throat. Alison choked, her eyes watering, snot dribbling from her nostrils onto the hard ecclesiastical shaft.

“Do you believe in the Horny Spirit, the Horny Fucking Church, the Cuntunion of Saints, the Fuckgiveness of Sins, the Resurrection of the Erection, and Lust Everlasting?”

“Aargh ‘oo.” Alison gasped, as the cock swelled even thicker and harder and the pace of her confessor’s face-fucking picked up, making her gag uncontrollably. She felt the bile begin to rise in her gullet and frantically pulled back from the priestly gloryhole to prevent herself from vomiting. She grabbed the dick with both hands and began to jerk it.

“God, the Fucker of Mercies, has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Horny Spirit among us for the Fuckgiveness of Sins… aah… aah…” The priest was clearly close to coming; Alison positioned her face right below his bulging cock-head, tipping her head back and opening her mouth wide – just like her Mommy had taught her.

Now the voice bellowed from behind the screen: “And I absolve you from your sins, in the name of the Fucker…” – a massive squirt of hot cum shot vertically up Alison’s face, making a thick white streak from her chin all the way up her nose to her forehead – “… and the Cunt…” – a second squirt went horizontally across her eyes, blinding her and completing the cruciform sperm-image on her face – “and the Horny Spirit!” – a third squirt went straight into her open mouth. And the cock kept coming, as Alison squealed “Amen! Amen! Fucking Amen!” and basked in the glorious cathartic pleasure of all that salty, sweaty, hot cum-from-the-mouth-of-God splashing over her face, dribbling down her chin, seeping through her blouse into her nipples – and absolving her of any last vestige of Rob’s abuse.

“My sister, go in peace to fuck and to serve the Lord.”

“Amen. Thank you, Fucker, thank you.”

And Alison knew that she was free: the taint of love expunged, she was a true fucker again.

~

“Well, Alison,” said Brad later that evening, as Claire slowly stroked him off to the final sequence of Bubblegum Bukkake Sluts IV, “I’m glad you’re feeling better. And you’re right, I’m sure he won’t come after you again. But what about his sister? She’s a bitch at the best of times. And I don’t know whether they’re in cahoots or what. Is she safe?”

“Fuck yeah!” interrupted Claire – not in response to Brad’s rhetorical question, but in spontaneous glee as he ejaculated a perfectly-formed fountain of semen eighteen inches into the air, just as the final credits starting rolling on BBS4, over a freeze-frame of a once-beautiful brunette blowing bubbles with some fifteen cum-loads. Brad’s cumshot curved elegantly back in on itself, spattering down onto his cock and onto Claire’s hand. As she bent down to slurp it up, she added, “Well, we’re doing tit-sucking in class tomorrow with Cunts. So hopefully Eva’s bark is worse than her bite!”

Alison laughed nervously. Somehow she felt that Claire’s assessment of Eva’s character was overoptimistic – but she pushed all such thoughts to the back of her mind, as she shuffled forward, saying, “Hey, Claire, share some of that cock-sauce with me, there’s a sweet cunt…”

CHAPTER SIX:
TITS!

“TITS!” declaimed Cunts, baring her own. Nor was Cunts wearing her auto-dildo today – “presumably because she doesn’t need it to suck tit!” whispered Claire to Alison as they resumed their normal stations in “the Money Lab”.  Monday morning marked the beginning of a new topic in Professor Cunts’ morning sessions: Female Oral – “kissing, tit-sucking, cunt-eating, and rimming,” explained the Professor. “The latter term, today, refers to rimming female assholes, in case you were wondering, girls: your chance to stick your tongues up these boys’ shitters will have to wait for another time – er, if you haven’t already been doing it in your free time, that is!” There was titter from the girls, and Eva gave Chad a knowing glance.

“Since our four boys, for all their very impressive GM qualities, have no tits or pussy to speak of” – and here another giggle rippled through the female members of the class – “we are happy, for this fortnight, to have a guest lecturer – whom all of you, I’m sure, already know – and who is one of the country’s leading experts on tits.” Standing at the lectern, also topless and brandishing a large sheaf of lecture notes, was Anna the FD student and part-time receptionist.

“Thank you, Professor Cuntslicker,” said Anna. “We are going to start today with some tit-sucking. So, girls – please could you take your tops off, and come out here to the front so we can all see what you’ve got.” The boys cheered, as the girls followed Anna’s instructions, and Anna wrote the word “Tits” in large, curly pink letters across the board, before joining Cunts and the four others in a line across the room.

“Beautiful!” Anna commented, once all the females in the room were topless and lined up. And indeed they were beautiful. The boys were practically drooling at the sight – and Darren was already getting his cock out. “Isn’t it wonderful, girls,” continued Anna wryly, “to see the effect you can have on boys just by showing them a bit of tit? Look, they’re already stroking off at the sight of you! Darren!”

“Yes, ma’am?” Darren was forced out of his lustful anticipation by Anna’s voice.

“I would be so grateful if you would put your cock away for now. You’re here to suck tit, not to jerk off!”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Darren replied, chastened, stuffing his cock back into his trousers, as the other boys guffawed.

“Now – let’s start with Professor Cunts’ tits. Professor, could you tell us something about them, please?”

“Certainly, Anna. They are surgically enhanced,” said Cunts, kneading her breasts so that everyone could see their firm texture and shape. “I had them done in ’28 – long before any of you students were even in vitro – and I still love ‘em!”

“And, in case you didn’t know,” said Anna to the class, “surgery was the principal way of enhancing breasts until the early ‘30s – when GM became widely available. And so to these two fine specimens of GM technology”, said Anna, walking behind Harriet and Eva so she could squeeze their large, melon-shaped breasts with both hands. They were similarly large, round and luscious – though Harriet’s rose and fell seductively as she smoked. “Very nice, isn’t it, that we can now design the next generation’s tits before they’re even born? Nevertheless, what has Eva got which is not GM?”

“Piercings!” cheered Darren, his right hand again moving instinctively to his fly.

“Glad you noticed,” replied Anna, indicating the black girl’s shiny plain silver barbells, which contrasted strikingly with her wide brown areolas and her large ebony nipples. “And piercings make a massive difference to – please keep your hands off your cock, Darren! – to how they get sucked – don’t they, Eva?” said Anna. Eva nodded knowingly.

“But even if you don’t have GM tits – or piercings – you can avail yourself of MM technology,” Anna continued, moving on to prod Alison’s tits so they jiggled from side to side – “as we can see in the case of this rather fine pair of ‘natural’-style boobs.” Alison smiled as the class admired. Even Eva appeared to be studying them with some seriousness – though she neither smiled nor caught Alison’s eye.

“Finally,” Anna continued, “to myself and Claire, who have a great deal in common in the tit department, don’t we, boys?”

The boys stared stupidly back and forth between Anna and Claire, trying to see what they had in common. “Oh, surely!” Anna said in exasperation. “Claire?”

“Natural!” said Claire proudly.

“Absolutely!” replied Anna. “Very different, but both completely natural. And of course, in this MM/GM/huge-tit world we now live in, it is that variety which we are in the process of losing. Who thinks that’s a good thing?”

Chad’s hand shot up. “No one wants variety, Anna,” he said in an unmistakeably patronising tone. “Yours are OK, because they’re big. But Claire’s are fucking pathetic. Who’d want to suck those?”

There was a murmur of disagreement from the rest of class – except for Eva – and Claire looked visibly insulted. Anna, however, kept her cool. “Well, Chad, now is your chance to suck them. You’re pairing up with Claire. Joe – Harriet. Darren – PUT YOUR COCK BACK PUH-LEASE! – Alison. Bradley – Eva. Boys, your challenge is to make your girl come just by sucking their tits. They’re going to stay standing. Ready?”

The next ten minutes were, Alison thought, hardly exciting. Darren was more interested in jerking himself off than pleasuring Alison – and Anna had to tell him several times to put his dick away. In her boredom, Alison looked around at the rest of the girls, who seemed similarly nonplussed. Chad spent most of his time grumbling about Claire’s “tiny tits” whilst prodding and tweaking them aimlessly. Joe opened his mouth wide, slobbering over Harriet’s huge boobs with dedication – but Harriet, typically, was more interested in practising her French inhales. Only Bradley, who was of course applying himself to his task with his customary diligence, seemed to be having any success; despite herself, Eva was beginning to quietly gasp and squeal at the touch of Bradley’s gently flicking tongue.

Cunts and Anna were quietly smirking to each other in the background; they clearly were neither impressed nor surprised. “Boys!” Anna called out when feedback time came, “you must remember one thing: the pair of tits you see in front of you is attached to your bitch! They are not just your playthings. This is not about what you like doing with tits: it’s about what the slut attached to them likes having done to her tits – and of course what the audience likes to see. Before we dissect the process in detail, first let’s have a change around. The boys can sit out and jerk off – okay, Darren? – whilst Professor Cunts and the girls and I pair up. Let’s see if girls have a better idea of what pleasures girls! Claire – with me, please. Harriet – with Professor Cunts. Alison, please suck Eva’s tits. Then we’ll swap around.”

Alison approached Eva, her heart pounding in trepidation. “Hi, Eva…” she ventured with a tentative smile – but Eva pointedly looked the other way, smirking in the direction of Chad who, along with the other boys, was already stroking his cock in anticipation.

Alison had never sucked black tits before – but the moment she approached Eva she realised how incredibly beautiful they were. The ends of Eva’s silver barbells gleamed from either side of each of her large ebony nipples, glinting intermittently with reflected light as she turned, contrasting with her wide, dark areolas and her huge, chocolate brown orbs. Alison gently licked her nipples, making the piercings twitch from side to side. Eva was clearly doing all she could to cut Alison dead, but – perhaps primed by Bradley’s earlier efforts – even she could not resist a gentle intake of breath as Alison’s tongue made her nipples tingle. Alison could tell it was working, as Eva’s areolas began to swell gently.

“Don’t think,” Eva whispered coldly under her breath so that only Alison could hear, “that just because you can make my tits feel good, that makes everything all right.” Alison said nothing, but kept licking, circling the tip of her tongue around the circumference of each of Eva’s areolas in turn, gently catching each end of her barbells as she did so and making Eva moan quietly. “I know what you’re trying to do my with brother, you – oh fuck –” Eva swore despite herself, as a pleasurable shiver ran from her tits through her whole body down to her cunt.

Alison was pleased that her oral ministrations were having the desired effect, hoping against hope that they might, despite Eva’s protestations, soften the black girl’s animosity slightly. She kept licking, now opening her mouth wider so as to gently cup her lips over the domes of Eva’s huge breasts, still flicking the pierced nipples with her tongue. “I’m not trying to do anything with your brother,” she mumbled into Eva’s soft dark flesh as she deftly switched sides, so that no one apart from the two of them could hear. “I just let him fuck my ass.”

Eva was clearly struggling to keep her cool, moaning and squealing at the darts of pleasure Alison was causing to course through her body. “You’re a fucking liar,” Eva muttered in between pants of pleasure. “You came up with this ‘love’ shit, and you’ve totally fucked his – oh fuck shit motherfucking Jesus yeah suck those tits!” Eva had lost control – and Alison was jubilant, clamping her mouth around Eva’s right tit and licking wildly whilst her left hand stroked the other, rubbing saliva into the nipple and tweaking her piercing. Eva was squealing in ecstasy, as her hand reached down under her skirt to rub her clit. “You’re gonna fucking make me come, you fucking cunt,” she continued to mutter under her breath, “but don’t think you can fuck with my family. My brother is never gonna be yours, you piece of white fuck-trash – never – oh fuck, oh fuck yeah, FUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!” Eva screamed as she came hard, her hand rubbing her clit violently as she crumpled onto the floor.

Alison dropped to the ground with Eva, still sucking and slobbering and pawing at her beautiful black breasts. As she did, she heard Claire’s familiar screeches of orgasmic ecstasy as Anna deftly sucked her pert little tits. Even Harriet had stopped smoking to bask in the pleasure of Cunts’ expertly administered titgasm. And in front of where the boys were sitting were four little creamy puddles on the floor. Their gradually softening cocks dribbled and dripped as they gazed in delight at the radiant aftermath of the lesbian spectacle.

“Congratulations!” said Anna, admiring the success of the latest round of tit-sucking. “And look, girls, what the boys have done on your account! Feeding time!” Harriet, Claire and Alison all cheered as they crouched down on the floor and began slurping up the four puddles of cum, swapping the jizz between them with outstretched tongues. Chad snapped his fingers at Eva who, though still panting from her titgasm, knelt in front of him and, taking the full length of his huge semi-flaccid cock down her throat, started to clean him up.

“Time to swap round!” called Anna. “Same partners, but sucker becomes sucked. Try a different position, though: maybe lying down?” Anna, Alison and Cunts lay on their backs on the king-size bed.  To Alison’s left, Cunts’ surgically enhanced melons stuck up into the air, firm and proud as always. To the right, Anna’s huge naturals jiggled and flowed like full udders as she positioned herself. Harriet and Claire approached, clearly somewhat nervous at the prospect of having to tit-pleasure such seasoned professionals, and began slowly to put their tongues to work.

Eva leaned over Alison, scowling. As she nuzzled her face into Alison’s breasts, Alison whispered, “I didn’t declare love to Rob – honest, Eva. It was him…”

“Liar,” muttered Eva into Alison’s tit-flesh. “How dare you accuse him? You’re a filthy manipulative lovelorn cunt.”

“No, honest, he was the one who… AAAAAAARGH!!!” Without warning, a searing pain shot through Alison’s right breast. She jerked upright in shock, then looked down. Around her dome-shaped right nipple was a set of deep gouges – teeth-marks, out of which flowed fresh blood. Blood dripped from Eva’s lips, which had formed themselves into a vicious grin.

All around, everyone had stopped their tit-sucking to look in horror. “She bit her!” screamed Claire, pointing at Eva. “She fucking bit her!” Blood spurted and dripped off Alison’s breast onto her abdomen.

“Oh, I am so sorry.” Eva gave a saccharine – though bloody – smile. “I didn’t mean to hurt you – but you jerked upright so fast, my teeth must just have caught you by accident…” She gave an expression of mock-concern as she wiped her lips.

There was uproar all around. Chad was quick to weigh in: “Eva’s right, Professor, I saw it: Alison jerked up without warning, there was no way Eva could have known.”

“You fucking liar!” shouted Claire and Bradley, incensed. “She did it deliberately!” Claire wrapped her arms around Alison protectively, using her own blouse to staunch the flow of blood from the wounded breast. “Professor, Eva has had it in for Alison right from the beginning. This was deliberate!” Claire remonstrated. Tears of pain and humiliation and shock came to Alison’s eyes, as noisy claims and counter-claims were hurled around her.

“Well, she declared love to my brother!” screamed Eva in rage.

“No, she didn’t!” screeched Claire in response. “It was her brother,” she shouted, pointing at the black girl, “who said he was in love and wanted to marry her. She just let him fuck her ass!!”

“SILENCE!!!” thundered Cunts over the commotion, quelling it instantly. “Anna – please take Alison to the medical centre immediately and stay with her. Eva – come with me to my office now. Everyone else – stay here: I will send Doctor Dick here to take witness statements.” There was rage in her voice such as Alison had never heard before.

“Please, Professor, can I go with Alison?” asked Claire.

“No, Claire, stay here until you have given your statement to Doctor Dick. Then you can join her.” Cunts grabbed Eva roughly by the arm and shoved her towards the door. Both still topless, they left. Anna, still holding Claire’s bloodied blouse hard against the bleeding breast, urgently escorted Alison out.

An uneasy silence descended over the Constance Money Fucking Laboratory. The flamboyant pink lettering on the board still read: “Tits”.

CHAPTER SEVEN:
A WORKING FUCK

Professor Emma Jane Cuntslicker, PGCF, FD, FRSF (Fellow of the Royal Society of Fuckers), sat slumped at her desk, weighing up the events of the week. Had there ever been a worse one during the course of her entire twenty-year career in fucking? Perhaps when that stupid girl from Fuckham had accidentally lost a marble up her ass – oh, the hours nurse Cat had spent trying to retrieve it! Cunts chuckled… Or no, even worse, that food fetish class where that boy hadn’t checked the temperature before sticking his dick in the crêpes suzette? “Cock flambé” – oh God, how he’d screamed… Boys were always doing stupid things – led by their dicks rather than their brains. But girls could be such bitches. And this crisis this week was all the above: stupid and bitchy – and dangerous. “Love!” Professor Cunts spat the word out in disgust. Did these young people know what a dangerous idea they were playing with, accusing each other of “love”?!

There was a knock at the door. “Come in!” called the Professor. “Ah, Dick-Dick, thanks for coming in, how are you? Eat my cunt.”

“M’ cock, probably a bit like you, Cunts: fucked! Jesus, what a week!”

“Tell me about it! Can I get you anything: coffee?”

“Coffee?!” Dr Dick laughed. “That’s very retro, isn’t it? Or are you trying to seduce me, like when you were young?”

“Dick, I’m not that old! But actually, now you mention it, I could do with a fuck to calm me down. Do you want a quickie, and then we have our debrief? Or shall we have a long slow working fuck?”

“Long slow’s good for me,” replied Dr Richard Dick, as both professors undressed. “Shall I eat you out while you tell me about the results of your investigations?”

“I think that could be just what I need, Dick,” said Cunts as she sat on top of her desk and opened her legs wide. Her pussy was bald, her clit hood pierced with a silver ring set with a small ruby. She was – happily for Dr Dick – not wearing her auto-dildo.

“Oh, a new gemstone this week, Cunts?” asked Dick-Dick.

“Yes, my sister gave it to me. Isn’t it nice?” Dick-Dick didn’t reply, but knelt, and began slowly kissing Cunts’ thighs, breathing in the rich end-of-day aroma of his boss’s pussy while admiring her firm breasts looming impressively above his head. His cock began to rise in response.

“Now, to business,” said Cunts. “First, this attack was clearly no accident. The ‘eye-witnesses’ are of course divided, according to allegiance. Alison’s friends all seem to be Eva’s enemies, and vice versa – oh fuck, that’s good, Dick-Dick, nice and slow…” Professor Dick was now gently kissing his boss’s pussy with softly pursed lips. Cunts continued: “But Nurse Barbara – you know, Buns – swears that the wound could not have been caused by Alison jerking upwards suddenly. That tallies with Anna’s recollection – fuck yeah, just like that, gently, gently…” Dick-Dick had moved on to gently licking around Cunts’ outer lips, teasing her pierced clit every now and again with the tip of his tongue. “It is fortuitous that Matron Standley was on leave this week, and Buns already knew Alison’s tits really well from FP – fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…” Dick-Dick’s tongue was now probing between Cunts’ inner lips, tasting her deep-cunt nectar, slurping it up and spreading it over her vulva. “So, it was definitely a deliberate act of GBH by Eva. Alison’s parents are furious, and want to bring in the police in. They came down from Cunthorpe on Monday night – they’re all staying in the Titz this week, they’ve taken Alison there as well. I managed to calm the parents down by letting the dad fuck my ass while I ate the mom’s cunt. And they were very pleased to see that we stock Bates butt-plugs as standard! So they have now agreed to let us complete our internal investigations first…”

“No pun intended?” muttered Dick-Dick, as he starting deep-tongue-fucking his boss’s cunt.

“Ha ha!” replied Cunts. “It doesn’t help that Eva’s black – that always brings out the worst suspicions in people. If we could persuade the parents to settle for rustication – fuck shit slow down, fucking slow down Dick, I can’t fucking talk straight if you go so fast!” Professor Cuntslicker’s colleague had clamped his entire mouth around her cunt and was chewing her clit vigorously – but now, obediently, he apologised and eased off, going back to his gentle tongue-probing. “Yeah, that’s better, nice and slow… But, of course, this is complicated by the whole ‘love’ thing – which maybe you can tell me more about, Dick?”

“Ah, ‘love’. You probably remember when it was made illegal, do you, Cunts?” Dr Dick got up, his face gleaming, and proffered his long stiff cock, the bulging head of which was already purple and glistening with pre-cum.

“Ah, those were the days!” Professor Cunts suddenly looked dreamily nostalgic, as she started gently stroking Dr Dick’s long cock with her hand, smearing his pre-cum over the mushroom dickhead so that it gleamed. “2030 – and the Great Expulsion was under weigh. The European Union had embraced the Enlightenment two years before, you see, and of course one of the conditions of our re-joining was that we sign up too. We who were in the vanguard of the Fuckers Party were celebrating our victory in the Referendum, which we knew meant the end of ‘love’ and the beginning of the primacy of Pleasure.” Cunts’ eyes glazed over with emotion, as she felt Dick-Dick’s hard cock jerk and bob in her hand.  “I always thought it would be the religious reactionaries who would undermine the revolution. But actually, we managed to expel pretty much all of them – and most of those that remained caved in and joined the Church of the Enlightenment…”

“C of E?” interrupted Dick-Dick.

“Exactly,” said Cunts, spitting on his cock-head and smearing saliva generously up and down his shaft. “A bunch of unprincipled hypocrites, if there ever was one. So, unexpectedly, now it’s the ethnic minorities who now pose the greatest threat, because many of them still have friends and relatives in Unenlightened countries. I remember back then demonstrating against allowing the children of Undesirables to stay in the Union, even if sterilised. You can sterilise a body – but not a mind, if its allegiance is divided.” Professor Cunts swivelled round and lay down on her desk, her head dangling upside-down off the edge so that her colleague could slide his cock into her open mouth.

“Well, this episode proves you right, Cunts,” said Dick-Dick as he began to slowly probe the professor’s mouth with his cock-head. “Eva and her brother are both the sterilised children of expelled Undesirables. Apparently Alison met Eva’s brother Rod on the train…”

“Wob,” corrected Cunts, her mouth full of cock.

“Rob, sorry – on her way down from Cunthorpe. She says they just fucked, and parted. But Eva says Alison ‘fell in love’ with Rod…”

“Wob!”

“Rob – … and has been trying to persuade him to leave the Union with her so they can get married. Alison denies all this, saying that Rob has been pestering her with messages, and that last weekend he appeared in her room in Fuckers’ Hall and proposed ‘love’ to her then.”

“Wha’ do ‘Waire and Bwa’wwey ‘ay?”

“Sorry?” Dick-Dick pulled his cock out of Cunts’ mouth.

“What do Claire and Bradley say?” repeated Cunts, spit dangling and dribbling down her nose.

“Oh – they are four-square behind Alison, of course,” replied Dr Dick as he slid his cock back into Cunts’ mouth, this time even deeper so he could look down and watch the bulge in her gagless throat as he began to slowly deep-fuck her gullet. “But they admit they didn’t actually hear him say he ‘loved’ her: they were in Claire’s room jerking each other off at the time.” Dick-Dick was now slowly fucking Cunts’ throat with the full length of his very long cock. As it slid in, it formed a bulge which slowly worked its way along some eight inches of her pale throat – like a rat being swallowed by a python – until his balls gently caressed her nose. As his cock slid out, it brought great strings of slime with it, which dribbled obscenely down Professor Cunts’ nose and onto her eyes.

“Wait a moment!” interrupted Cunts, swivelling around again and sitting up, spit hanging in great ropes off her nose and chin, and splattering down onto her huge tits. “The only person who can tell us the truth is the brother. But he’s not going to do that, is he? If he says Alison was chasing him with this ‘love’ shit, then she gets rusticated, and maybe Eva gets off lightly because she can claim she was trying to protect him. If he admits his guilt, then we can’t stop the Bates family taking this to the police, and he gets culled! Obviously, he’s going to protect himself.”

“Are you sure he’s the guilty party, then?” asked Dick-Dick cautiously. Cunts slipped lightly off the desk, her huge firm tits jiggling as she did so, and knelt on the floor in front of her colleague. Gently, Dick-Dick slipped his spit-coated cock between Cunts’ massive breasts and started slowly fucking them.

“He must be.” Cunts wrapped her hands around her tits, pushing them together to make a good tight fuck-seal for Dick-Dick’s shaft. “Why would Alison throw away a brilliant career as a fucker, and risk the ostracism of her entire anally-obsessed family, to go off to the Outside World to marry a black man?” The pace of Dr Dick’s tit-fucking was increasing now, and Cunts could tell that he was building up to an orgasm. She tilted her head downwards, so that with each upward stroke of Dick-Dick’s cock his dickhead penetrated her mouth with a gentle slurp, repeatedly re-lubricating his cock and her tits in one go. Professor Cunts opened her mouth into a perfect “O”, ready to receive her colleague’s cum-blast…

… when suddenly the phone rang.

“Oh fuck!” swore Dr Dick.

“Calmly, Dick,” laughed Cunts. “Remember you said you wanted a nice slow fuck. So now you’re getting one! Coitus fucking interruptus! Hello? … Ah, Anna, what news? … He’s here now? Well done, you clever slut! … Okay, would you bring him up, please?”

Dr Dick looked quizzically at Professor Cunts, his cock slowly deflating. The Professor explained: “Sorry, Dick, we’ll have to finish our fuck later. Rob Daniels is here to see us. He’s been staying with Eva at their family flat in London ever since she was suspended – he normally works in Fuxeter, you see. Anna’s been trying all week to persuade him to come and set the record straight.”

“Should we put our clothes on?”

“Maybe you should, but I have a hunch I might need mine off again soon. He may be an Undesirable, but he’s still a man – which means he’ll be led by his cock rather than his brains.”

There was a knock at the door, and a smiling Rob Daniels entered, escorted by Anna, who was carrying a tray bearing a coffee-pot, cups, saucers and napkins, and a plate of scones. If Rob was surprised to see Cunts stark naked, he did not show it, but nodded and smiled courteously.

“Good afternoon, Mister Daniels: lick my pussy. I’m Professor Cuntslicker. And this is Doctor Dick,” continued Cunts, gesturing to her colleague, who was stuffing his cock back into his trousers.

Rob Daniels continued to smile his twinkly smile. “Suck my cock, Professor. Fuck a bitch, Doctor Dick,” he said with impeccable manners. “But please, call me Rob.”

“In which case, call me Cunts. Please, take a seat. Can I get you anything? Coffee?”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” replied Rob. Dick-Dick smirked to himself.

“And a blowjob?” followed up Cunts.

“Oh, only if you’re having one,” replied Rob – “I mean, if… you know what I mean.”

“Anna,” said Cunts, “would you give Mister Daniels a coffee and a blowjob, please?

As Rob Daniels settled into an armchair, Anna set her tray on the coffee-table and poured Rob a cup of black coffee. Cunts sat opposite him on a wide sofa, legs spread, her hairless pierced pussy – still slightly puffy and damp from the attention Dick-Dick had been giving it – on full view. She started absent-mindedly rubbing her clit with one finger, making the ruby sparkle and glint intermittently in the reflected light from the ceiling lamps. Anna knelt on the floor in front of Rob, opened his fly, and pulled out his massive, though flaccid, black cock. She stifled a gasp, in her best professional manner, but could not entirely dampen her grin, licking her lips as she massaged the rapidly-hardening specimen of manhood which dangled before her face. Rob took a sip of his coffee. “Would you like some cream with that, Mister Daniels?” asked Anna from between his legs.

“Yes please, thank you, Miss Anna,” replied Rob. Anna duly retrieved a small jug of double cream from the tray, and proceeded to pour a generous helping onto the head of Rob’s already stiff cock, which was now pointing some forty-five degrees upwards towards Anna’s face. The cream began to flow slowly downhill, back along Rob’s shaft towards his abdomen and his balls, every now and again dribbling sideways off his cock in little white rivulets and dripping onto the floor. Anna bent down and began to methodically rescue the drips of cock-flavoured cream with her tongue, smacking her lips as it began to coat her lips and chin.

“Rob, I am very grateful you were able to come to see us,” Cunts began. “I think you probably know why we asked you in – but let me summarise for you the awkward situation we find ourselves in.” Rob nodded: he appeared very calm, and not at all distracted by the buxom brunette at his crotch, who had now pulled her stretchy tank-top down so as to be able to catch more drips of cream on her huge flowing breasts.

“As you know,” continued Cunts, “your sister Eva has violently attacked one of our other students in class – apparently unprovoked.” She licked her index finger with the tip of her tongue to lubricate it, before resuming her apparently absent-minded clit-rubbing.

“Alison, yes – I am so sorry,” said Rob. Anna was now pouring a second, more generous coating of cream over his hard cock, covering the whole black shaft, balls and all, in sweet white gloop.

“You admit it, then?” interrupted Dick-Dick. He was fully clothed again but, still horny after his interrupted tit-fuck, and clearly quite taken by Anna’s blowjob skills, had unzipped his fly and was slowly stroking his long cock back into an erection.

“Yes,” said Rob, “and Eva clearly behaved disgracefully. But I would ask you to hear me out, because I may be able to give you some reasons for clemency.” Anna was now quietly moaning in pleasure as she slurped and gobbled cream off Rob’s cock and balls, her happy face gradually becoming messier and messier, cream dribbling off her tongue and lips and down her chin. Dick-Dick watched, mesmerised by the sight as he stroked his cock in the background. Rob stayed apparently composed – though his large black cock remained as stiff as a rod.

“Is that so?” replied Cunts with a tone of annoyance. “Was Alison not declaring ‘love’ to you, then?” She removed her slimy finger from her crotch and jabbed it accusingly towards Rob.

“No,” replied Rob simply. “I declared love to her.” Anna froze in shock, her lips wrapped around the side of Rob’s cock, choking on cream as she gasped in horror. She spluttered, sneezing double cream out of her nose and onto her tits. Cunts looked down disapprovingly at Anna’s uncharacteristic gaucherie, before going back to slowly rubbing her clit. The receptionist muttered a hasty apology.

“That’s all right, Miss Anna,” said Rob reassuringly, “you’re doing great – please don’t stop.” And then, addressing Cunts, he continued: “I made the mistake of telling my sister how I felt about Alison. Sometimes Eva’s protectiveness has tipped over into an unwarranted level of jealousy. I am sorry.” Anna had resumed her oral ministrations, now sucking the remaining cream off Rob’s cock with long, deep mouthfuck strokes, tongue wriggling along the undershaft to cleanse his balls. Dick-Dick was jerking his own cock at the sight, his pace increasing as he watched in awe. Rob, however, continued calmly: “Eva has long been emotionally insecure. Our parents were expelled when she was very young. I have done my best to be both brother and parent to her. She found her calling in fucking of course, but is aware of how perilous the position of black people is in this country. And so she can be fiercely, and sometimes unpleasantly, competitive. She is aware that her greatest assets as a fucker are her throat and her breasts – my parents spent their last savings before fleeing this country on giving their beloved daughter GM tits and throat, hoping that it would improve her chances in life – but hearing me extol the virtues of Alison’s asshole and the beauty of her MM tits brought out the jealousy in her. I should have been more circumspect.” Rob sipped his coffee, and put his cup down on the coffee-table.

“Would you like a scone, Mister Daniels?” interrupted Anna, her face and hair now liberally smeared with cream. A mixture of spit, snot and cream drooled from her chin and from Rob’s cock.

“Oh – that would be lovely, thank you,” said Rob. Anna took a warm scone from the tray and split it with a knife, before asking, “Clotted cream first, then jam – or the other way around?”

“Oh, cream first of course, Miss Anna – just like my granny taught me!” chuckled Rob.

“Ah, my gran was the same!” replied Anna as she dipped a teaspoon into a small Wedgwood pot and began liberally smearing Cornish clotted cream up and down the full length of Rob’s cock. “But Auntie Ethel always did the jam first,” she continued, as she spooned organic strawberry jam on top of the layer of cream, and then sandwiched his dick between the two scone halves. Rob’s purple-brown glans poked out in front, cream and jam squelching out the sides. Anna proceeded to consume her afternoon tea, starting – for theatrical effect – from the base end of his shaft, so that her face gradually became decorated with streaks of strawberry jam, clotted cream, and crumbled scone.

“Rob,” Cunts said in a business-like manner, “whilst I have the greatest of sympathy for Eva, the bottom line is this: the Bates family want to see her rusticated, and you expelled, or culled – which is not an unlikely outcome for a black man in this country. Will you tell the truth, and take that risk? Or will you lie, to protect yourself and your sister and shift the blame to the ‘lovelorn’ Miss Bates?”

There was silence. Anna paused her nibbling, furrowing her brow and looking up expectantly to hear Rob’s answer. Even Dick-Dick stopped stroking his shaft, his cock-head pulsing and gleaming in his fist.

“Professor,” Rob said slowly. “One thing you don’t understand… is that I do love Alison.”

“Oh, bullshit!” replied Cunts, removing her finger from her clit again to gesticulate her exasperation. Dick-Dick started to go soft again: this conversation was not turning him on. Even Anna, her face plastered with cream and jam, didn’t seem to know what to do, pausing her oral ministrations in shock and turning imploringly to Cunts for guidance. “There is no such thing as ‘love’ – not anymore – not here!” continued Cunts angrily. “Alison just turns you on: she is a hot fucking slut with great tits and an amazing asshole, and you liked fucking her gape and coming all over her face. And who wouldn’t? But that’s not ‘love’, that’s lust – pure lust: pleasure, Mister Daniels!” Cunts’ face and neck began to redden. Instinctively and unconsciously, she crossed her legs to protect her pussy from Rob’s view.

“I do not expect you to understand love, Professor Cuntslicker,” continued Rob calmly, cream and jam slowly dripping off his warm cock onto Anna’s incredulous face. You are a pioneer of the Enlightenment, and in the footsteps of that Enlightenment this country, this Union, has expelled Love. But it lurks still, hidden under the mask of lust and pleasure which this society extols. It is only people who know that there is an alternative – for example, who have family and friends in the Outside World, where people still sometimes fuck not just for pleasure but because they love each other, marry because they love each other, bear children – not in vitro but in utero – because they love each other, give birth from the very organs with which they made love…” – here both Cunts and Dick-Dick grimaced with undisguised disgust – “… and then who stay lovingly faithful to each other despite all the suffering it brings them – only such people will dare, in this totalitarian society, to speak the name of Love and recognise it when it appears.”

Dr Dick had put his now flaccid cock back into his trousers and zipped up his fly, and was watching Rob stony-faced. Anna sat still at Rob’s feet, trembling and tearful, her hands clasped in horror over her jam-smeared dribbling creamy mouth. Cunts sat cross-legged, her hands instinctively clasped over her breasts, insulted and raging inside. For the first time ever in her life, she felt naked, and wished to hide from a man.

“I am sorry to upset you so, Professor Cunts – Doctor Dick – Miss Anna. You see, if I merely lusted after Alison, then I would lie, thereby saving my own life and prosperity in this country and, what’s more, preserving the chance of being able to see Alison again. But this is not lust, but love: and so, I seek Alison’s happiness above my pleasure. Alison will probably never understand this any more than you will – but that’s okay. I will leave this country and join my parents overseas, and possibly never see Alison again. I will write you a letter admitting to my guilt. That way her parents will be satisfied, and will not need to take the matter to the police. And I ask you to show as much clemency towards Eva as you can: she is a child of your Enlightenment, and I only want her to be happy in the world she has grown up in. Without my baleful influence, she will be a great fucker – and I am sure she will feel more secure in herself, and be less arrogant and ill-behaved to everyone.”

Rob stood up and wiped the cream and jam off his stiff cock with a napkin. “Thank you, Miss Anna, that was wonderful,” he said kindly. “I’m sorry we weren’t able to finish: perhaps another time? Thank you, Professors both. Don’t worry, Anna, I can see myself out.”

Rob shut the door quietly behind him. Dick-Dick stood stiffly against the desk, arms crossed and jaw set hard. Cunts curled up on the sofa like a foetus, arms clasped over her huge naked breasts, her face red, her lips trembling and frothing with rage. Anna whimpered on the floor, the remains of scone and cream and jam caked onto her face and tits, little rivulets of tears making long creamy pink stains down her cheeks.

For a minute or so, no one moved.

But then, suddenly, Anna leapt up. “Wait! Wait, please, Mister Daniels! I need to speak to you!” she called, as she ran out the door and down the staircase after Rob, her huge bare breasts swinging wildly, and flecks of cream and jam flying off in her wake. “WAIT – I NEED TO SPEAK TO YOU – ABOUT LOVE!!!”

Dick-Dick waited until her cries faded away. He glanced at Cunts – but she was still curled up on the sofa, her breath trembling as she rocked back and forth, the pain of her dismembered ideology etched onto her face. And so, annoyed but resigned to the inevitable, Dr Dick got out his cock again, hastily stroked it back into an erection, fapped hard with his fist for some thirty seconds, and then ejaculated unceremoniously, his semen splattering over the back of Cunts’ crouched trembling head. He wiped his cock-head clean on Cunts’ long dark hair, stowed his cock back in his trousers again, sighed, swore, and left.

Professor Emma Jane Cuntslicker was left alone. More alone than she had ever felt in her life.

CHAPTER EIGHT:
STRANGERS IN THE FUCKING NIGHT

“Are you sure it’s gonna be okay?” asked Alison. She was sitting in the back of a black London taxi, sandwiched between her parents.

“Yes, honeypot,” replied her mother, “Professor Cuntslicker has sorted it all out. The black boy has left the country – isn’t that right, Bill? – and he knows not to come back. His sister now knows that it wasn’t your fault, and is really sorry for hurting you. She wants to make it up to you – isn’t that good?”

Alison wasn’t so sure. It sounded good in theory. But how come Eva had suddenly changed her mind? And how exactly was she going to make it up? What the fuck was actually going on? Alison furrowed her brow suspiciously.

It was two weeks since Eva had sunk her teeth into Alison’s breast. Thanks to the tender fucking care of Nurse Buns and Dr Taylor, who had taken Alison under their wing, you could barely see the scars any more. And last night Buns, Cat and Claire had all come round to the Titz to give Alison her first full-on double-tit-sucking slut-fuck in a fortnight – and, as Alison had put it, “it was fucking!”

The taxi driver had his radio on – playing an old classic with a modern five-four twist:

Strangers in the fucking night
exchanging fucking glances,
wondering in the fucking night
what were the fucking chances
we'd be fucking sharing cum
before the fucking night was through.

“Ah, I remember this song from my childhood!” reminisced Alison’s father dreamily. “You know, Jill, it originally just went…”

“Mommy,” interrupted Alison, ignoring her father, “I’ve been wondering: why did Rob admit fault? He could just have sided with Eva. That way I’d have been the one in trouble, and he wouldn’t have needed to leave the country.”

“I don’t know, sweet cunt. But isn’t it good that he did?”

Alison looked pensively out of the window. Something didn’t quite add up, and she felt sure that her parents were concealing something. But she soon forgot about it, lost in the sights of London: the billboards, the theatres, the parks, and all the people fucking, fucking everywhere. This was a wonderful city: free, carefree, and full of lust and pleasure.

Something in your fucking cunt
was so in-fucking-viting,
something in your fucking ass
was so ex-fucking-citing,
something in my fucking balls
told me I fucking must fuck you.

Alison cast her mind back over the past two weeks – the strangest ever in her life. She remembered Eva’s attack: the agonising pain in her breast which shot outwards all over her body; the dizziness, the clamminess, the shock; the blood which coursed down her chest and abdomen. She remembered Anna rushing her to the medical centre, Buns injecting her wounded breast, binding it tight, and rushing her in an ambulance to Farts, where Dr Taylor put her immediately on Medical Regeneration (“MR”). She remembered Claire and Bradley and Harriet visiting her in hospital that evening, bringing her her favourite dildo – “to make you feel better,” Claire had said. Alison’s parents had arrived from Cunthorpe later that night as she lay in hospital having her cunt licked by Nurse Cat. (“Therapussy®! Nothing quite like it!” Cat had said, grinning as her long tongue delved deep, her own cat-flaps dripping and dangling behind her.)

Healing Alison’s tit had been the most straightforward part. It was the incessant questioning which had upset her the most. Cunts had visited the next morning: “Could it possibly have been an accident?” – “Are you sure you didn’t do anything to provoke it?”

Then, that afternoon, Dick-Dick had visited twice: “How well do you know Rob Daniels?” – and later: “Did you ever give him any reason to believe – forgive me, Alison, if this is upsetting, but I have to ask this – that you were in any way in love with him?” The next morning it had been: “Alison, you have been accused of declaring love to a black man. What do you have to say to that?”

At least on Wednesday Alison had been allowed to come off MR, and could go and join her parents at their suite in the Titz, to convalescence. Her parents had pampered her for the rest of the week, even treating her, upon Buns’ recommendation, to daily Therapussy® sessions from the in-house fuck-therapist. Claire had visited every evening after lectures, and, on the therapist’s instructions, had limited her attentions to gently licking Alison’s clit and dildoing her cunt. “No tit-play, and no weird positions – there must be no pressure on that tit for at least another week!”

But the next week, for some reason, things had changed. Her parents, who had until then seemed grave and serious, had suddenly announced, with some relief, that Rob had left the country, and that he had admitted that he had been the one to have declared love. Eva, apparently, now knowing this, regretted her actions, and was being readmitted to the Academy. “But it’s strange,” Claire had said as she and Alison shared an ice-cream cone one afternoon by the pool at the Titz, “Eva’s really quiet now, and is keeping herself to herself. No wonder, after what she did to you: everyone knows it was her fault. But she’s even avoiding Chad. The first morning she got back, Chad was there trying to shove his dick down her throat, and she told him to fuck off!”

“Fucking!” Alison replied with a broad grin, holding the cone out so Claire could have a lick. Claire twirled her tongue seductively around the top of the cone, letting some ice cream smear gently across her lips.

“But another thing,” Claire continued, as ice cream dribbled down her chin, “Cunts is not looking good. It’s almost like she’s ‘aged’! She’s been really grumpy – no, I mean, really grumpy, not just the normal strict. She’s been suddenly bursting out with things like, ‘This is the age of Pleasure!’” Claire proceeded to imitate Cunts’ voice at its most strident, pushing out her flattish chest and sticking her balled fists under her blouse to give an impression of Cunts’ huge tits – thereby inducing a fit of giggles in Alison. “‘Pleasure is what makes society function and cohere. Don’t let anyone deceive you with talk of “love” or any other such bullshit…!’ Something’s really rattled her: she’s been taking days off for illness, and Dick-Dick has been covering for her at the last minute. Sometimes she even looks like she’s been crying – either that, or she’s being throatfucked by a horse!” Claire laughed uproariously; Alison held back from giggling, for fear of causing pain to her still-tender right tit.

Claire took a deep lick from the cone and then stuck out her ice cream-coated tongue so that her friend could share her mouthful. Alison reciprocated, entangling tongues with Claire and slurping softly at her lips. Some ice cream accidentally dripped onto her tits.

“Owwww!” squealed Alison, feeling the cold bite into her still-tender right breast.

“Ooh, sorry sorry sorry!” said Claire. “My fault for being too frisky. Shall I lick it off?”

“Nooooo!” replied Alison. “Too sensitive still. Just let me wipe it off with my fingers…” Then, with a cheeky grin on her face, she grabbed the ice cream cone and, in one swift mischievous movement, reached down to squelch the ice cream end into Claire’s pussy.

Alison expected Claire to squeal from the cold – but instead her eyes rolled upwards in ecstasy. “Oh fuck, Al, that’s so good. I love vanilla in my cunt.”

“Can I lick it out?”

“Fuck yeah!”

The taxi was now driving up Charing Cock Road, and Alison enjoyed looking at what shows were playing in the West End: Fleshlight Express, The Lion Cunt, Fucker on the Roof… “Help me with my butt-plug, sweet cunt,” said Alison’s mother, interrupting her reverie, “I think it needs a bit more lube.” She shuffled her bottom upwards, removing a bright purple, slightly fluorescent, slowly pulsating plug from her asshole and brandishing it in front of Alison’s face.

“Fucking! “exclaimed Alison in admiration. “Is this a new model, dad?” she asked as she sucked it into her mouth, savouring the taste of her mother’s ass.

“Not yet released! Bates Auto Plus Plug 2051” replied her father. “Your mommy’s testing it out for us. But we’re still having some trouble with the self-lube technology. Lube it up for your mom, will you?”

Alison did as instructed, sticking the plug into her own asshole with a gentle squelch and then returning it, coated with a thick layer of her ass-slime, to her mother, who slid it back up her rectum with a sigh of relief. “Oh Bill, isn’t it good that we have a daughter with a GM asshole?”

“But Dad,” interrupted Alison, “now that more and more people are getting GM asses, won’t it be bad for business? I mean, girls with total gape control don’t need plugs to stretch them out.”

“Well, we’re developing new ranges all the time. This one, once we’ve perfected it, will be totally auto-programming. Not just self-lubing, but it adapts itself to any asshole shape and size, auto-cleans the rectum so there’s no poop accidents, intelligently induces maximum gape in the wearer by stimulating the rectal walls and automatically sensing gape-width. It will even pulsate rhythmically in tandem with whether you’re being fucked in the cunt, or even just rubbing your clit. Oh, and it beeps when you need a poop! But hey – another golden oldie! Remember this one, Jill? We used to fuck to this at uni…” From the radio Alison could now hear:

When I grew up and fell in lust
I asked my fucker, “What lies ahead?
Will we have assfucks day after day?”
Here's what my fucker said:
“Que sera, sera…”

And soon they were on Maryleboner Road, and pulling up outside the Royal Academy of Fucking. Surprisingly, though, neither Andy nor Anna was at the reception desk. Instead there was a skinny red-headed girl with freckles and huge GM tits bulging under her tank-top, chewing a large wad of gum and blowing bubbles as she worked. As Alison and her parents approached, the girl was blowing a bubble larger than her head, which suddenly popped all over her face and hair, making her look – Alison thought – as if she had just taken a massive pink facial.

“Hi,” said Alison tentatively, “lick my pussy. I’m… Alison Bates. I think Professor Cuntslicker is expecting us in her office…”

“Oh yes, Alison!” said the girl as she peeled gum off her face and stuffed it back into her mouth. “Eat my cunt, I’m Angie.” Angie stood up and shook Alison’s hand warmly, leaving a little dribble of saliva on her fingers. “Cunts is expecting you. Go right on up.”

“New receptionist,” commented Alison to her parents, licking Angie’s sweet bubblegum-flavoured spit off her hand as they started up the stairs. “I wonder where Anna and Andy are…” Alison’s parents looked at each other nervously, but said nothing.

It wasn’t Cunts in Cunts’ office after all, but Dick-Dick, leaning against the desk and smiling broadly, though looking slightly nervous as he welcomed the Bates family with the usual formalities: “Cock”… “Pussy”… “Bitch”… And standing next to Dick-Dick, wearing a pair of short daisy dukes and a tight blue bikini top which showed off the distinctive shape of her bulging GM tits and pierced nipples – was Eva.

Alison stopped in her tracks, her heart suddenly pounding hard as a terrifying cocktail of emotions washed over her. There was silence in the room, as the two girls eyed each other up nervously, and the adults watched with apprehension. Instinctively, part of Alison was terrified, and her fists tightened, ready to defend herself. Another part of her wanted revenge, and she imagined sinking her own teeth into Eva’s body, making the bitch scream and writhe in pain as she had done to her. But instead Alison stood still, the emotions swirling around in her head, her body trembling, her heart pounding, and her breath coming in short fast pants.

Eva did not attack. She looked scared herself, her eyes moist as if she had been struggling to control tears. Then she slowly stepped forward, her head bowed, her hands clasped together nervously. “Alison,” she said, “I’m so sorry. I’ve been such a fucking bitch. Please forgive me.”

Alison stood still. Out of her peripheral vision she vaguely noticed the three adults smiling encouragingly, while her lips trembled, her heart pounded, and the tears welled up behind her eyes. The silence seemed to go forever, as Eva waited trembling, and the adults watched in nervous anticipation. “Why should I forgive her?” thought Alison to herself. “I could make her suffer now. I could turn her into an outcast, I could humiliate her, I could get her thrown in jail – maybe even culled! And – Jesus fucking Christ – wouldn’t that be good…!” But she caught sight of her mother’s nervous smile, and some of her wisest words, taught to her from earliest childhood, came to mind: “Remember, true fuckers want nothing more than to give pleasure. In this Enlightened world we live in, there is to be no more jealousy, or possessiveness, or revenge, or love. Only Pleasure.”

Alison took a deep breath, then said, awkwardly: “Eva… Can I eat your cunt?”

“Oh, yes please!” replied Eva, her voice tinkling with relief. A grin broke out across her face, happy tears leaking from her pretty eyes. The three adults applauded and whooped. Suddenly, Alison thought, Eva looked more beautiful than ever before, her fine-featured face framed by her loose brown afro, which waved and bounced gently as she approached, kissing Alison on the lips. Slowly Alison knelt and pulled Eva’s shorts down, smelling the gentle perfume of fresh morning pussy. Alison looked up, raising her eyebrows just to check whether it was still okay; Eva nodded encouragingly. “I remember when you asked me if you could eat my cunt at the Freshers’ Fuck. I was such a bitch then, I’m sorry.”

“Well, there was a whole bunch of guys waiting to fuck your throat, wasn’t there? And I didn’t exactly suffer that evening, did I?”

Eva laughed nervously.

Alison had never looked closely at a black cunt before, but now she had one within inches of her face, she found herself lost in admiration. The skin of Eva’s thighs was smooth and chocolate brown, but became darker as it approached the outer lips of her pussy, where she was completely shaven, and glistened with juice. Her inner lips were darker still – practically jet-black; at first they looked a bit leathery – “like Chinese mushrooms,” Alison thought to herself – but of course, “they can’t really be leathery, any more than my cunt-lips are leathery; otherwise, who’d fuck them?”

“I was so rude about your asshole that night, I’m sorry,” continued Eva. “Actually… I have always kinda envied you your asshole, ever since I first heard about it. I guess I was just jealous…”

“Was that because Rob was besotted with me?” Alison asked, looking up. Eva froze briefly, fearful that mention of her brother might signal another flashpoint between them. But Alison’s gaze was drawn back to what must surely be the crowning glory of Eva’s cunt – the slight parting between her black folds, where Alison could descry a tiny glimpse of pink gleaming at her – a glimpse of treasure lurking behind the walls of her dark pussy-cave. “Pink as my cunt,” Alison thought to herself. “We’re all the same inside.”

Inside. Suddenly Alison wanted nothing more than to be inside, to glory in that pink gleaming treasure. “Oh Alison,” answered Eva, “I knew deep down it wasn’t your fault. But I was scared of losing my brother, like I lost my parents. Now, because of my stupidity, I have lost him anyway.” Alison said nothing, but leaned forward, gently flicking Eva’s deep red-brown clit with her tongue, before running it slowly down her slit and then back up to her clit again. Eva’s cunt was of course not remotely leathery. Her fuck-lips were soft, warm and wet, and gave way easily to Alison’s probing tongue, slowly revealing more and more squidgy pink flesh. Eva moaned. “Oh, you pleasure me, Alison. I am sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you.”

As Alison licked Eva out, she caught sight, out of her peripheral vision, of her father, standing behind her mother, his hands cupped tenderly around her breasts, kneading them gently through her dress. Her mother turned, so that her tongue could entangle with her husband’s, as they began to French kiss deeply. Alison likewise plunged in deep, wrapping her mouth around Eva’s whole vulva, chewing on her clit with her lips and probing deep into her soft pink flesh with her tongue, driving Eva into ecstasy.

Eva came, squealing and thrusting her hips into Alison’s face, tears running down her cheeks as she said over and over, “I’m so sorry, Alison. You pleasure me so much.” Alison looked up and, seeing Eva’s dark face glowing with pleasure and catharsis, felt again, for the first time in over two weeks, that life was good. Alison saw her father lift up her mother’s skirt, gently pull out her Plus Plug with a little squelchy pop, and hand it to her to lick clean. He slipped his cock out of his trousers, and slid it slowly between his wife’s ass-cheeks. “Oh, Bill, I’m so happy,” said Jill as she sucked her ass-lube off the plug and felt her husband’s cock gently probing her sphincter. “You pleasure me so. And Alison is happy again. Fuck my ass, baby, that’s so good.”

“Alison?” said Eva with a teary giggle, looking down at Alison’s shining face. “I hear you’ve got an ‘amazing asshole’… Can I see it?”

“Sure thing, Eva,” replied Alison with a broad smile, taking her clothes off and lying on her back on the sofa, her legs high in the air so that her asshole was on full view, winking cheekily at her new friend.

Alison looked up, and heard her mother whispering to her father, “Bill, I think they’re getting on so well, we should leave them to it. Why don’t we continue this somewhere else? Professor Dick, is there somewhere else we could go to fuck? And please, would you like to join us? I do a mean DP, you know!” Smiling, Dick-Dick gestured Mr and Mrs Bates towards the door. Alison’s mother led the way, pulling the two men by their cocks, looking back to wink at Alison as they exited.

Alison felt Eva’s hot tongue begin to flick at her backdoor, and suddenly she was reminded of when her brother’s tongue had done the same, just a month ago. Instinctively she loosened her sphincter so as to gape her anus wide, forming a perfect capital ‘O’ so Eva could gaze into the maroon depths of her rectum. “Oh, it is amazing, Alison!” exclaimed Eva. “Rob was right. Will you teach me to gape like that sometime?”

“Only if at the same time you teach me to throat a dick!” replied Alison. “Deal?”

“Deal!” said Eva, clapping her hands with delight, her voice tinkling like a bell.

Alison grinned. “Do you wanna eat my ass now, Eva? It tastes better the deeper in you go.” Smiling, Eva slid her tongue deep into Alison’s hot dark rectum. Both girls moaned with pleasure – Eva from the rich pungent aroma which assaulted her senses, and Alison from the slippery feeling of hot tongue snaking deep into her insides. “Oh fuck, Eva, that’s so good!” moaned Alison, as Eva’s tongue explored her ass from all angles, sometimes circling around the rim of Alison’s brown hole, sometimes fucking in and out like a mini-cock, sometimes searching deep into her rectum, licking and cleansing her maroon shit-walls.

“Oh, you’re so tasty, Alison!” moaned Eva, as her tongue slobbered into and around Alison’s ever-widening gape. But… uh… may I…?” Eva paused.

“May you what?” asked Alison.

“Uh… I’d love to put my hand in there, Alison. Is that okay?”

“Fuck yeah!” exclaimed Alison in delight. “Go for it, babe! Even your brother didn’t do that to me!” Again Eva froze at the mention of her brother’s name – but Alison gave her a reassuring cheeky smile, saying, “Boys are so stupid, aren’t they? So desperate to put their cocks in dark places, they miss out on half the fun!”

“I can be pretty stupid too, Alison – though in a different way…”

“Hey, stop apologising, Eva. That’s why you and I are fuckers – because we know that pleasure is the way to bring people together – not this ‘love’ shit. I eat your cunt, you fist my ass – and we’re both happy!”

“I’ve never fisted a girl’s ass before. I mean, I never knew my mom – and my brother sure as shit didn’t let me do it to him… Anything I need to know?”

“For most people, yes: go real slow. But for me, just fucking ram it in!” Alison hummed the “Do you have a Bates butt?” jingle and grinned encouragingly at Eva. “Ready? One… Two… Three… Fist!”

Eva didn’t exactly “ram” – but it was not long before her entire right fist, past her wrist, was exploring deep inside the squelchy depths of Alison’s rectal passage. Alison felt Eva’s fist clench up, twirl and twist around, then stretch out, her fingers gently tickling the insides of her rectum, making her gape even further. “Oh, that’s good, Eva!” said Alison. “My Mommy always taught me: ‘You have to fool your ass into thinking you need a shit; then it’ll gape wider.’ You’ve clearly got the maternal instinct for asshole!”

Eva laughed, and then began to gently fuck her fist in and out. Alison concentrated hard to relax her sphincter even more until, lubricated by her GM ass-slime, Eva’s fist could plunge unimpeded in and out of her inches-wide gape. Each entry produced a loud squelching noise, and each exit a stretched-out, noisy, deep-pitched fart, leaving Alison’s circular ass-rim quivering with pleasure and dripping with lube, ready for the next assault. “Oh God, Alison, that’s so beautiful,” intoned Eva, tears welling up in her eyes again. “I’m sorry for all the times I was so rude about your asshole…”

“You’re making up for it now, Eva. Now – time for you to suck my tits and make me come.”

Eva froze, fear and foreboding etched on her face. “Are you sure, Al? I mean, do you trust me? Last time I sucked your tits…”

“That was last time! But we’re fuckers, remember? ‘True fuckers want nothing more than to give pleasure. In this Enlightened world we live in, there is to be no more jealousy, or possessiveness, or revenge, or love. Only Pleasure!’”

“Oh, that’s beautiful, Alison – where did you hear that?”

“From my Mommy, of course.”

“I wish I had known my mom. Maybe I would have turned out better.”

“You’ve turned out beautiful and sexy, Eva – and that’s all that matters. Now, no more regrets – time for you to show me how you can really suck tit!”

Her fist still snug inside Alison’s warm rectum, Eva slid upwards, and gently began to lick Alison’s nipples. Alison’s dome-shaped areolas began to swell and puff up, as Eva’s tongue traced delicately around them, eliciting goose-bumps on their soft slopes. Eva opened her mouth wider so as to cup her lips over the domes of Alison’s breasts, still flicking her nipples with her tongue. It was not long before tremors of pleasure were emanating from Alison’s tits and spreading through her body. Soon her cunt was pulsating in a gentle orgasm, making her asshole repeatedly squeeze Eva’s fist, as pussy-juice and ass-lube alike dribbled down Alison’s perineum onto the sofa.

As Alison came, both girls wept – but for different reasons. Alison wept with relief – relief that Eva was no longer the enemy, and relief that all she had ever believed had been proved true: fucking really was the answer to all personal troubles; Pleasure could bind wounds, heal conflicts, and make the lion lie down with the lamb.

Eva’s tears were more painful. She wept out of remorse and shame for the hurt she had caused, now so miraculously forgiven. But she also wept for her own loss: her parents, and now her brother, all exiled because of the cruelty of white man’s society, which accepted black people with big tits and big cocks who bought into Enlightenment values, but would never allow them family life. But most of all, as Eva sucked Alison’s beautiful domed tits, she imagined she remembered another pair of nipples she once used to suck – huge, black, full of life-sustenance, giving of themselves selflessly for her – their owner even accepting exile to give her daughter a chance of success in the white man’s world. “Mommy,” she whimpered into Alison’s nipple, her fist still gently lodged in the white girl’s rectum, as the tears flowed down her cheeks, dripping like a healing balm onto Alison’s once-wounded breasts, “Mommy, I’m so sorry…”

Alison put her arms softly around her new friend, rocking her on her breast and gently licking her tears away while crooning, “Fuuuck… fuuuck… You pleasure me, Eva. Mommy will be proud of you, pretty cunt… Don’t you worry… We’re fuckers, remember? That heals everything…”

After a few minutes, their tears and their orgasms spent, Alison and Eva disentangled themselves, together licked Eva’s fist clean, slowly gathered their clothes up and dressed each other, Alison’s gaze lingering over Eva’s beautiful ebony slit as she pulled her daisy dukes up.

On their way to the door, they passed by Cunts’ desk, where Alison’s gaze was suddenly caught by a crumpled piece of paper covered with a distinctive and familiar style of hand-writing: large, pink, flamboyantly curly letters. Alison knew it was wrong to read other people’s mail, but curiosity got the better of her, and she leaned over to read the first couple of lines. “Oh my fucking God!” she exclaimed in horror and disbelief.

“What is it?” said Eva.

“They’ve gone. They’ve fucking gone! Listen to this…” Alison read out loud:

Sunday, 9^th October, 2050

Dear Cunts,

By the time you read this, Andy and I will be gone. I’m sorry we didn’t give you more warning. I would have liked to have had more time to say goodbye, and to thank you for being one of the greatest inspirations I have ever had in my life. You are truly an amazing fucker, and you have been a selfless and devoted lecturer, tutor and mentor to me for so many years. I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive us for what we are now doing.

I know that you are a convinced believer in the Enlightenment, and have devoted your life to building a society where nothing is more important than Pleasure. I have been your faithful acolyte in that mission, and I am not ashamed of it. However, over the past year or so, both Andy and I have noticed things in our relationship which cannot be explained by the principles of the Enlightenment – things which just don’t make sense unless there is a greater good than Pleasure. I did not know what that greater good was until I knelt in your office yesterday sucking Rob Daniels’ cock. I will not repeat Rob’s words, as I know they may cause you deep hurt – which is not what I want. But they answered questions about us – about Andy and me – which the Enlightenment has never been able to answer.

We have left the Union. We plan to marry, and hope to have children together.

Andy joins me in wishing you every possible pleasure.

Anna

“Oh Jesus fucking Christ…” whispered Alison.

CHAPTER NINE:
THE PRETTIEST WHORE THAT YOU EVER DID SEE

Claire was delighted to see Alison back at the Academy, and gave her a long sloppy tongue-suck the moment she reappeared in the Money Lab. That she appeared hand-in-hand with Eva was a shock, and elicited a twinge of jealousy at first – but Alison deflected it with another of her mother’s unassailable moral aphorisms: “The fruits of fucking are joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, gentleness…”

“Oh shut up, Al. Here, join us, Eva.” And so the three girls – blonde Claire, brunette Alison, and afro Eva – stood face-to-face in a triangle sharing tongues, licking, sucking, tongue-fucking each other’s mouths till their spit dribbled down their chins and their laughter filled the hall. “This is how true fuckers reconcile!” Claire enthused.

That was at least partly true. Bradley remained hovering in the background, unsure about how he might or might not fit into the newly-redrawn classroom alliances. And Chad looked, frankly, furious.

Some of these tensions began to iron themselves out during the course of their first Introduction to Blowjobs sessions. Eva was paired with Bradley and gave him, as far as Alison could tell, one of the greatest blowjobs in the history of mankind; there was not a mention of “dinky dicks”, and by the end, any reservations Bradley may have had about Eva disappeared in a stupendously-crafted cumshot which splattered the smooth dark skin of her nose, cheeks, lips and chin. Chad continued to glower menacingly at Eva and her new set of fuck-friends, but at least was kept far away from them by Cunts, who paired him up with Harriet for a very impressive smoky blowjob.

Cunts seemed pleased – “happier than I’ve seen her in a long time,” whispered Claire to Alison, “maybe ‘coz she’s relieved you and Eva are at peace.”

~

At lunchtime Eva, Alison and Claire made their way together to the RAF dining hall, keen to catch up with each other’s news – and to exchange notes on Anna and Andy’s disappearance. At least, Alison and Claire were keen to gossip; Eva listened cautiously from the sidelines. “Who’d’ve thought it?” exclaimed Alison in hushed but scandalised tones, as they all sat down together at a small round table with their lunch trays. “I thought Anna was such a sensible, reliable fucker. How come she got taken in by all this ‘love’ shit?” As she spoke, a couple sitting at a booth across the aisle from them were consuming their desserts. The young lady was topless, her black hair tied back out of the way of her large natural breasts.

“That explains why Cunts has been in such a bad mood,” opined Claire. “It’s, like, a total betrayal of the Enlightenment. And from such experts as Anna and Andy! How on earth?” In the booth across the aisle the young man had put a blob of whipped cream on each of the woman’s tits, and was balancing a raspberry on each creamy nipple. She giggled with delight.

“Stupid, selfish, self-deluded idiots!” Alison spat out. “And all it has achieved is that they’ve had to flee the Union. Where are they going to go? Fucking India, or Africa?! Who’d want to go there and live with all those fat, ugly…” Alison stopped, as she caught sight of Eva’s face, which was now drawn, her lips tightly shut, a fixed frown shadowing her eyes as she stared into the middle-distance. In the booth across the aisle, the man was eating raspberries off the woman’s nipples, noisily slurping whipped cream as he did so.

“Oh…” Alison paused. “I’m so sorry, Eva, I’m being really rude, aren’t I?”

“Yes. But hey, I’m used to it,” sighed Eva quietly. “No, I don’t mean just from you, Al. I get it all the time in this country. But I don’t think Andy and Anna – or my brother, for that matter – are so stupid or deluded as you think. They just think differently from you…” The couple in the booth had now moved on from tit-sucking: the man had got his cock out, and was sliding it up and down between the woman’s cream-coated breasts.

“Different from everyone, duh!” replied Alison. “Everyone in the whole Union!”

“Yeah,” admitted Eva, “but only because the Union has managed to expel or cull anyone who believes differently. The Outside World is still full of people who believe in Love.”

At the sound of the word “love”, the food-fucking couple over the aisle paused in shock but, presumably thinking they must have mis-heard, resumed their fucking, this time pouring a generous dribble of chocolate sauce over the man’s cock, before he slid it into the woman’s slit. “Oh yeah, Johnny, choco-fuck my pussy, baby,” the woman muttered, “I love feeling that warm sauce all the way up my cunt.”

Under normal circumstances, Alison would have stopped to watch the rather fine food-fuck unfolding at the next table – but this conversation with Eva was getting too close to home. “And that gives your brother the right to declare love to me?!” she replied, her voice rising. Other heads in the vicinity were now turning – though not the food-fuck couple, who were too involved in their own fetishistic pleasure to notice any more. Johnny was continuing to fuck the woman’s cunt, pouring copious quantities of warm chocolate sauce over his cock as he did so – whilst smearing cream and soft fruits on her tits and gobbling them off ravenously.

“We weren’t talking about my brother!” replied Eva to Alison’s taunt. “We were talking about Andy and Anna – and I was saying, don’t be so insulting to them just because they have rejected your worldview. They have the right to do so!”

Johnny picked up a large cream sponge cake from his tray, held it out, and said, “Ready, Danica?” His partner looked up into his face, eyes gleaming with anticipation, and nodded. A second later, she was spluttering through a faceful of sponge and cream, “Oh yeah, Johnny, fucking wuin my pwetty face with that cweam cake. You gonna wam your fucking cock into this cake-face of mine?” Johnny needed no further encouragement, pulling his cream- and fruit-streaked dick from her chocolate-covered cunt, standing up on the banquette, and plunging it into the middle of her cake-plastered face. He must have aimed well, because his cock disappeared right down to the balls, as an obscene gagging noise emerged from Danica’s gullet.

Alison was determined not to be distracted, and continued to remonstrate with Eva. “Okay, Andy and Anna have every right to think what the fuck they like – and, as long as they keep their ‘love’ to themselves, that’s fine by me. But it’s ideas like ‘love’ which take the decent, free-fucking youth of our society and turn them into perverts. I mean, where did your brother get the idea he ‘loved’ me? And what good did it do anyone? And if you think that Anna and Andy are going to find any happiness going off to live in the Outside World to find ‘love’ – well, you wait! It’ll be okay for Andy: he can go around fucking all the ass he wants. But in a couple of years’ time Anna will come back, divorced, haggard, poverty-stricken, carrying five unwanted babies. And that’s even if she survives childbirth. (I mean, the thought of it, giving birth to a baby out of your cunt – Jesus!)” Johnny was now face-fucking his partner with aplomb, as sponge, fruit, cream, chocolate and spit continued to explode from her face and mouth, making a gloopy mess down her chin and onto her tits.

But Eva was not going to let Alison’s criticism pass. She leaned forward, fingers pressed hard against the table-top. “You don’t get it, do you, Alison? It’s easy for you white people to condemn Undesirables, or the World Outside: you’re not subject to blanket sterilisation or expulsion orders from the state. What’s more, the only reason you are still here in this Academy of Fucking is because my brother – yes, my black brother – loves you! If all he felt for you was lust – if all he wanted was pleasure – then he would have fucking lied, saving his own skin – and mine – so he could stay in this country, fuck whoever he wants, continue to get his dick sucked every weekend by his little sister, and maybe even fuck your amazing asshole again! Don’t you get it? YOUR ASS WAS SAVED BY HIS LOVE FOR YOU! HE GAVE UP HIS JOB, HIS HOME, HIS SISTER, HIS COUNTRY – OUT OF LOVE FOR YOU!!!”

Alison stopped in shock – for, in her self-absorption, what Eva was saying had never occurred to her before. Other people around them were staring in shock too – though probably more shocked by Eva’s “foul language” than the actual content of her tirade. Even the food-fuckers paused, Johnny’s cake-coated cock poised at Danica’s creamy dribbling lips. “Please,” said Johnny, clearly offended, “mind your fucking language!”

“So sorry!” Alison apologised embarrassedly. “My friend sometimes forgets her manners: you know, sometimes her kind don’t realise… She’s a… you know…” Alison resumed her hushed tones, whispering sharply to Eva, “Eva, don’t use the ‘L-word’ out loud here. This is the Royal Academy of Fucking, after all…”

Claire stroked Alison affectionately on the arm. “To be fair, Alison,” she said calmingly, “we were all talking about ‘the L-word’. But seriously, Eva, you’re saying he left the Union – “out of ‘love’ for Alison? But surely he left the country to save his own ass: if the truth had come out, he’d have been expelled anyway – or culled! No, wait, Alison – stop fucking interrupting! – let Eva explain.”

Actually, Alison had not been about to interrupt. The grimace on her face and the tremor in her heart were due to a series of new and troubling thoughts – implanted there by Eva’s outburst, but now beginning to buzz silently through her mind: “What actually is this ‘“love” shit’ that Rob and Eva keep going on about? Eva is right: Pleasure can’t explain what he has done. He’s made a massive sacrifice; was it really out of ‘love’ for me…?” Alison knew also that she had seen a look, a special kind of gaze in Rob’s eyes when he looked at her – twinkling, searching, fascinated, fixated. Was that “love”? She had seen the same in Anna and Andy, even as they fucked on the reception desk before lectures each morning. Was that “love”? Alison’s parents had taught her that love was a fake – a chimera – a smokescreen for exploitation and abuse, the lynchpin of societal and religious hypocrisy, responsible for all the delusions of the pre-Enlightenment. But then, Alison remembered that look in her own parents’ eyes when they looked at each other. Their marriage was full of pleasure, yes – but it was more than that: she had seen them make sacrifices for each other, accept injustice from each other, forgive each other’s wrongs more times than she could count. Did mere pleasure really explain all that?

Alison’s brow was furrowing deeper and deeper, but she held back from voicing any of these troubling ideas, whilst Eva took a deep breath to gather her own thoughts. Across the aisle, Danica had turned around on the banquette, hitched up her skirt, and stuck her ass up towards Johnny. Johnny picked up a can of whipped cream, inserted the nozzle into Danica’s asshole, and squeezed. Alison, Eva and Claire heard the unmistakeable sound of rectum filling gradually with cream. “Oh yeah!” whispered Claire excitedly, tapping Alison on the arm: “I just adore whiteshit!” She glanced furtively away from her companions, evidently far more excited by Danica’s asshole than by debating the meaning of the “L-word”.

Eva ignored Claire, and continued her explanation: “Okay, Alison, let me try and put it this way… You go to church sometimes, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but what’s that got to do with ‘love’?” Alison remonstrated. Johnny was now slowly fucking his cock deep into Danica’s ass, making whipped cream squelch and fart noisily out of her asshole and dribble down her thighs. “Oh yeah, asshole casserole!” squealed Claire in delight – completely losing interest in the conversation and turning her back on her friends to watch the food-fuck.

Eva continued regardless: “Well, I bet you’ve heard things like… ‘everyone who gives Pleasure has been born of God… because God is Pleasure.’ You know the bit I’m talking about?”

“Yeah yeah, I know. But I didn’t know you liked going to church?”

“Well, sometimes – but that’s another story. Point is, in the original manuscripts, where now we translate it as ‘Pleasure’, the original word was… ‘love’. God is Love.”

There was silence as Alison, scandalised by Eva’s preposterous claim, fumbled for words – and all she could manage was: “Bullshit!” She might have said more, but was stopped in her tracks by a large splatter of whipped cream being explosively farted out of Danica’s asshole, propelled across the aisle, and landing in Claire’s face. Alison and Eva could not help but laugh out loud at the innocent mishap. “I said ‘bullshit’,” guffawed Alison, “not ‘whiteshit’!”

“Hey, Danica,” Claire called out as she licked her lips, savouring her creamy faceful, “I love the taste of your fart-cream! Send me some more ‘crème de la ass’!”

Danica turned, grinned, and gestured to Johnny, who squirted her ass full of whipped cream again. This time Danica took careful aim, took a deep breath, and bore down as hard as she could, sending her entire rectum-full of cream flying across the aisle in one long, powerful melismatic fart, plastering Claire’s face with her creamy white anal effluent. “Fuck yeah!” screeched Claire, “‘crème fartée’!” She laughed uproariously at her own pun, as some of the other nearby diners cheered and applauded. Johnny could hold back no longer, ramming his cock deep into Danica’s ass, fucking it in and out as fast as he could, and then squirting a generous helping of cum inside Danica’s asshole. Danica let out a slow gentle fart, as the cocktail of man-cum, whipped cream, chocolate sauce and squashed raspberries dribbled down her thighs onto the banquette. There were cheers all around, as Danica crouched down, slurped up her cream- and fruit-flavoured cum sundae from the surface of the banquette, and then proceeded to suck the same off Johnny’s dick.

“Hey, are you two new here?” called out Claire as she wiped and slurped whipped cream off her face.

“Not exactly,” said Danica with a smile. “We’re teaching the Food Fuck Firsts short course which starts today. We’re on secondment from Titty University. And fuck, Johnny, we’d better clean up, quick – we’re giving a lecture in, like, fifteen!” All around, students and lecturers alike were finishing their meals, clearing their trays, or winding up their post-prandial fucks.

“We’re not expected at FP till three today,” said Claire to Danica. “Can I come with you and just catch the first bit of your lecture? I’ve always loved food-fucking!”

“Sure thing! Lemon meringue pie today!” replied Danica.

“Fucking!” enthused Claire, as she got up, helped lick Danica and Johnny clean of cream and cum, and bounced off after them.

“Bring me some!” Alison called out to Claire, as she and Eva cleared away their trays, gave each other a reassuring tongue-suck, and walked hand-in-hand out into the entrance hall. Angie the new receptionist was still blowing huge pink bubbles as they passed by: she was moaning as she diddled her cunt under her desk with one hand and squeezed her huge tits with the other, muttering “fuck yeah” under her breath each time a bubble burst over her freckled face, before peeling it off with slimy fingers. “Bubblegum fetish – fucking: you don’t get that often!” commented Alison to Eva. “Let’s watch for a minute, I love this sort of thing. Look, when she opens her mouth you can see the gum all pink and glistening and squidgy, so it looks just like a sloppy juicy cunt. And now, when she starts to blow, it looks like she’s sucking on a big pink tit. And then it gets bigger and it looks like she’s eating someone’s ass. Isn’t that fucking?!”

Eva didn’t seem impressed. “I knew a girl in school who did the bubblegum thing. The boys used to love popping her bubbles with their cocks. But she choked on her gum one day, alone in the park, and died. A friend of mine found her, gum all over her face and a dildo still in her cunt…”

“Fuck…” commented Alison, thoughtfully. “Hey, shall we take a walk in the park, before FP, and continue our conversation?”

Within a few minutes, Alison and Eva were sitting side by side on a bench in Regents Park, gently kissing each other while Alison stroked Eva’s pierced nipples through her bikini top. “I’m sorry I’m being so horrible to you, Evie. This is all very hard for me,” said Alison with disarming honesty as she gently licked her friend’s lips. “All this ‘love’ shit has fucked with everything I ever thought I knew.”

“I know, Alison – and I have spent my entire life torn between the life of pleasure my parents sacrificed so much to give me, and the fact that they gave up so much pleasure for my sake…”

“Do you mean you think they loved you?” asked Alison, painfully. “I mean, do you think my parents love me? Is that why they gave up so much for you… for me? And do you really think Rob did what he did because he loves me… and loves you?” Alison’s mind was reeling with the enormity of the ideological shift now threatening her.

Eva was about to reply, but was distracted by a noisy squeal some fifty yards away, from a group of teenagers in school uniform who had gathered noisily on the grass, relaxing during their lunch break. One girl, slim, with long brown hair down to her pleated plaid skirt and a raucous giggly voice, suddenly shouted out, “‘Ey, guys, let’s play ‘prettiest whore’! It’s good wiv lots o’ people!”

“Teresa, you’re just sayin’ that ‘coz you wanna fuck ‘Arry!” shouted a slightly pudgy girl with short blond hair, her round breasts straining at her white blouse.

“And wha’ if I do, Belle?” replied Teresa. “I am the prettiest whore, after all!” Teresa struck a seductive pose, wiggling her ass. There were squeals of delight and friendly derision in equal measure from the rest of the group, as they all stood up, forming a circle around Teresa, who sang out:

And on the bed

Her friends all echoed:

And on the bed

Teresa continued to lead them in song, as she buttoned her white blouse but left her plaid tie dangling between her small pert tits:

There was a whore

And they echoed:

There was a whore

And so they continued, in alternation:

The prettiest whore
That you ever did see.

Alison smiled knowingly at Eva. “Did you ever play this at school?” she asked. “I loved this game: I always wanted to be the whore!”

“I was usually the last to be picked,” said Eva quietly. “Nobody ever chooses the black girl as the ‘prettiest whore’…” The kids continued singing, but now in unison:

And the whore on the bed,
And the big dicks jerked all around, all around,
And the big dicks jerked all around.

The boys in the group started to get their penises out and stroke them to erection, delighted by Teresa’s performance, cheering and egging her on. When the verse ended, Teresa grabbed one of the boys by the cock, dragging him into the centre.

“‘Arry! ‘Arry!” chanted the boys, whilst the girls shouted, “Fuck the whore, fuck the whore!”

“Wait, wait!” shouted Teresa. “I gotta choose the cunt!” She prowled slowly around the circle whilst the girls called, “‘Oo’s the cunt? ‘Oo’s the cunt?” and the boys shouted out the names of their favourite candidates. Teresa paused in front of Belle, teasing her briefly before cheekily grabbing the girl next to her by the crotch and dragging her into the circle. “Amber’s the cunt, Amber’s the cunt!” screeched the girls, as the new girl, her black hair in a short bob, eyelids blue with far too much eye-shadow, and lips glistening red with lipstick, took her place in the centre of the circle. Teresa hitched her skirt up, kneeling on the ground with her ass in the air as Harry started to fuck her pussy doggy-style.

“Eva…” ventured Alison cautiously, tearing her gaze away from the game, “will you continue with what you were telling me back in the dining hall?”

“Oh yeah, sure… No, I was just saying that most people don’t know this, but the Church of the Enlightenment has translated ‘love’ out of all religious discourse. But originally the Church used to talk about ‘loving your neighbour as yourself’.”

“Oh, come on, Eva! What kind of bullshit conspiracy theory is that? Religion’s got nothing to do with ‘love’! I mean, in the olden days, the Church forced people into loveless marriages, allowed husbands to beat their wives, abused children, burnt people at the stake for saying the world was round…”

In the circle, Amber had taken over the striptease, slouching around the circle seductively, licking her fingers and rubbing lipstick-stained spit onto her nipples through her white blouse, while leading her companions in call and response:

And on that whore
There was a cunt,
The prettiest cunt
That you ever did see.

They continued in unison, as Amber chose her boy and dragged him by his very hard cock into the centre:

And the cunt on the whore,
And the whore on the bed,
And the big dicks jerked all around, all around,
And the big dicks jerked all around.

“‘Oo’s the clit? ‘Oo’s the clit?” chanted the girls, until short blond Belle was chosen to enter the circle. Soon Amber was sucking her boy’s cock, leaving rings of red lipstick up and down his hard shaft. Harry continued to fuck Teresa, but shifted to reverse cowgirl so his male companions, enthusiastically stroking their cocks, could admire the sight of Teresa’s cunt being speared by his dick, her rather large clitoris sticking up and glistening with juice. Alison grinned with delight. What a lovely display of teenage innocence, she thought – happy, carefree, companionable, peaceful, and thinking of nothing but their own and others’ pleasure!

“Alison,” Eva replied, “I can’t prove anything to you – because the Union has erased all written records of pre-Enlightenment days. But those of us who belong to ethnic minorities – blacks, Asians – still have family ties to other countries. We have communal memories, and together we remember what things were like before – including the ways we worshipped, and the stories we told: that’s why the Union tries so hard to expel and control us. Will you let me recite to you something my brother always recited to me every night as I was growing up – as he was read it by our mother? You won’t like it, I warn you – so you must promise not to get mad.”

“Oh fuck, okay, I promise,” Alison sighed.

Eva spoke slowly and quietly, so as not to be overheard: “Love is patient, love is kind…”

As Eva spoke, Belle was now leading the next verse of the song:

And on that cunt
There was a clit…

Eva continued, unperturbed: “… It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud…”

… The prettiest clit
That you ever did see…

“… It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth…”

… And the clit on the cunt,
And the cunt on the whore,
And the whore on the bed…

“… It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres…”

… And the big dicks jerked all around, all around,
And the big dicks jerked all around.

“… Love never fails.”

Eva stopped. And Belle reached the end of her verse. But the white noise in Alison’s mind was deafening. She made no response, but sat trembling, terrified. She watched again the carefree pleasure of the teenagers – this, she remembered, was how she had been just a few months previous. But now – barely a month after arriving at the RAF – she was a fearful, doubting wreck. What had gone wrong? Why was this world of Pleasure, which she had adored and admired all her life, so prone to jealousy and spite and betrayal? And why was this crazy, objectionable idea – this “‘love’ shit”, as she called it – rearing its ugly head? What about all those Enlightenment ideals? How could people turn their backs on them? And how could she even doubt them herself…? A silent scream arose in her breast: she bottled it up, but she felt moisture and pain behind her eyes, and her fists clenched instinctively in self-defence.

Alison felt Eva gently stroke her tits – and suddenly she realised she must have been brooding a long time, for the schoolkids had moved on several verses. There were now several couples in the centre, fucking in a variety of positions, and a skinny girl with long silver-blond hair was leading the next verse:

And in that GAPE
There was a cock,
The hugest cock
That you ever did see.

“Oh, I must watch this!” said Alison to herself, coming to her senses, standing up and moving forward to get a closer look.

And the cock in the gape
And the gape in the arse
And the arse on the whore
And the whore on the bed,
And the big dicks jerked all around, all around,
And the big dicks jerked all around.

The silver-blond girl grabbed the very large cock of her chosen boy and dragged him into the centre of the circle to join the others. She crouched down with her ass high in the air and pulled her cheeks apart to reveal one of the most beautiful gapes Alison had ever seen outside her own buttocks – perfectly round, gleaming with natural lube, and dropping away immediately into a dark maroon anal cauldron. “Oh fucking Jesus!” exclaimed Alison, louder than she meant to, just as a brief lull happened in the song. The skinny girl heard, turned her head, did a double-take, and looked in amazement at Alison.

“‘Ey!” the girl called. “You’re Alison Bates!” said the girl.

“Uh… yeah?” replied Alison uncertainly.

“Lick m’ pussy!” squealed the girl in delight. “My name’s Riley. You’re my idol! I watched you on the Fuck Factor and everyfink! I wanna be like you!” Her boy began to sink his shaft into her ass, but she pushed him away, saying, “‘Ang on a sec’, Larry, I wanna talk to this girl! She’s got this amazin’ arsehole; she’s, like, a fuckin’ celeb–”

“No no,” interrupted Alison, “let me watch you! Show me that beautiful gape getting fucked!”

The girl’s face glowed, ecstatic at the unsolicited celebrity compliment. Larry also looked happy, as his huge cock touched bottom in one thrust, eliciting a loud “Fuuuuuuck!” from the girl, who turned her attentions back to her assfuck. By now, however, the game had turned – as it inevitably would – into one huge orgy. Any rules that might have applied in the early stages, as well any musical pretensions, had been cast aside, as all the teenagers paired up – except for one spare boy who sank his cock into Teresa’s exposed asshole, so that she found herself in a DP sandwich between him and Harry.

Alison, though, kept watching the gaping silver-blonde Riley. She was reminded of herself a year ago – carefree, sexy, sluttish, and determined to use her anal gifts to full advantage. Alison marvelled at her talent, watching her rectum pulsate deliciously as it alternately swallowed, then squeezed out, Larry’s cock. “What a great fucker she would make!” Alison thought.

It was not long before all the schoolboys were coming – somewhere. Teresa took a double creampie from her two: their cum dribbled slowly out of her orifices, forming a viscous blend which dripped onto the warm grass. Amber’s boy jerked off all over her face, aiming particularly at her bright red lips, so that his cum dribbled pink down her chin, as she swallowed his cock to suck out the last few drops. And, best of all – thought Alison, grinning from ear to ear – Riley took a massive cum-load in her ass from Larry, before tightening up her sphincter, aiming skyward, and farting a huge fine spray of cum high into the air so that, caught by the sunlight, Alison could swear she saw a rainbow shimmer briefly…

But then Alison turned to look at Eva and saw her uncertain half-smile, masking that deep sadness which, it was now clear, welled in that strange, stranger’s heart – and Alison too was reminded of her own fear, unease and pain. Nothing was ever quite so black and white, was it? She shivered, squeezed Eva’s hand, pointed to her watch, and turned with her to leave.

CHAPTER TEN:
WE WILL ALL BE CHANGED

“Where’s Claire?” asked Dick-Dick – for indeed, Claire was missing.

“She was with Danica and Johnny,” said Alison. “I think she wanted to catch the beginning of their lecture.”

“Ah – excellent idea,” said Dick-Dick, “but I hope she isn’t late. We all have to go in as a group here.” It was nearly three o’clock, and Dr Dick and the NDF students were gathered in the lobby of the Princess Asshole Hospice on Oxfuck Street.

“I’m here!” came a voice, as Claire flung herself through the glass double doors, running as fast as she could. “Sorry, sorry I’m late,” she panted. She was dripping sweat from her exertion, and also appeared to have streaks of whipped cream and lemon curd in her hair. Alison smiled knowingly.

“I’ve got something for you, Al!” Claire grinned mischievously, as Dick-Dick turned away to register at the reception desk. “Kneel down, shut your eyes, and stick your tongue out!”

“What the fuck…?” intoned Alison cautiously.

“Don’t ask, just do it. You’ll love it, I promise!” giggled Claire, bouncing up and down with glee.

Alison did as she was told. As she stuck her tongue out, she smelt the scent of hot sweaty buttocks in her face, then heard the sound of a little squelch, as something sweet and lovely was deposited onto her tongue. She opened her eyes in astonishment. “Oh, you are such a slut!” she giggled, as she savoured the taste of Claire’s offering: cream, sugar, lemon, and little crunchy bits of meringue dissolved on her tongue, all combined with the heavenly taste of Claire’s sweaty asshole – which she proceeded to wipe clean with her outstretched tongue. “Farte au citron!” she screeched – and Claire cackled wickedly.

“Welcome, cocks and cunts, to the Princess Asshole Hospice. Lick my pussy.” The speaker was a tall, strongly built blonde with a square jaw, full red lips, and huge tits bulging under her long white lab coat. She wore jackboots, and a large truncheon dangled from her waist. “My name is Doctor Hildegard Fotzenficker, and I am Director and Chief Fucker here. I am an old comrade of Doctor Dick’s: we used to lecture in DAP together at the RAF some six or seven years ago. Now – before we start,” continued Hildegard, “could anyone tell me what a hospice is for? What sort of work do we do here?”

“Isn’t a hospice where you care for the terminally ill?” suggested Joe.

“Traditionally, it is,” replied Hildegard. “And in the past, pre-Enlightenment, that is what this hospice mainly did. However, since the discovery of GM, we have hardly any terminal illnesses any more. So our main work is to care for those scheduled for culling – that is, anyone approaching the age of fifty, beyond which, even with GM and MM, they would tend to get progressively uglier, fatter, less and less sexy – in other words, not worth keeping alive anymore.”

The group of students shuffled nervously. “Does no one object to being culled?” asked Eva pointedly, her eyes narrowing to a frown.

“Object? That would be ridiculous,” replied Hildegard firmly. “Here, we make death the moment of greatest pleasure. If the mortal is clothed with Pleasure, then death is swallowed up in victory!” Hildegard puffed out her chest with pride, and a manic smile spread over her face. “That is the beautiful thing about an Enlightened society. Our good depends upon having bountiful Lebensr– er, living-space, so that we can all live our lives with maximum pleasure – even in death!” Hildegard’s face shone briefly with visionary ecstasy, before she looked witheringly down at Eva, and continued: “Wasting resources on people who aren’t even fuckable anymore – that is what they do in the Outside World, and it only brings poverty and disease. The only ever objectors to Enlightenment policy have been Undesirables – and such fools should know what is good for them.” Her eyes panned up and down Eva’s ebony skin with ill-disguised contempt.

“Quite right,” chimed in Dick-Dick with a nervous laugh, looking Eva directly in the eyes as if to warn her against asking any more awkward questions – though even he looked ever so slightly disquieted by Hildegard’s zeal.

“Today,” Hildegard continued, “is the first day of your fucking practice here, and so you will not be permitted to do any fucking as such – at least, not with our clients, ha ha ha –” Dick-Dick and his students – bar Eva – dutifully laughed as well, before Hildegard continued: “But you will have the privilege of watching the Final Fuck of a woman called Annabel, who is forty-nine years old. She has chosen to be culled in a leather-and-latex fetish three-cock airtight cluster-fuck. She has said she wants to expire with cum all over her face and tits – and we, of course, will provide that for her. She has invited a few people to join her, so this may turn into a bit of a family orgy. But whilst she wants only friends and family to join her in the fuck-chamber, she is happy for you students to watch her through one-way glass – which is a great privilege, considering what a sensitive personal event this is for Annabel. So, shall we go in?”

The observation room was a plainly-decorated space, with a couple of rows of grey sofas facing a large wall of one-way glass, on the other side of which Alison and her colleagues could see a large plush chamber, opulently decorated with Tudor-style tapestries, and sporting a huge four-poster bed hung with velvet drapes. Three hunky, muscular male fuckers, their erect cocks bulging under their white lab coats, busied themselves turning down the bedclothes. “As you can see,” explained Hildegard, we only use the most physically perfect specimens of fucker for our Final Fuck sessions here: our clients deserve only the best for their final moments.” She surreptitiously glanced at Chad, clearly impressed by his physique, her eyes inevitably drawn to his bulging crotch.

Others were now filing into the fuck-chamber on the other side of the glass. There was a reddish-brown-haired woman wearing a latex fetish nurse outfit top, some chains around her waist, a pair of handcuffs dangling from her belt – and a cosh. She was carrying a tray on which sat a carafe of light green liquid and a small crystal wine glass, which she set down on a bedside table. There were a few couples and small groups of people – presumably friends and relations of the to-be-deceased, all dressed in their sexiest fetish “fuckday best” – who seated themselves on plush couches arranged around the perimeter of the chamber. And then there was Annabel, a stunningly beautiful woman with long black hair, dressed in a black faux-leather cupless basque with matching thigh-high boots, and a black fetish choker. Far from looking old or ugly, this woman was sexy – “really sexy,” Alison muttered in admiration. Her tits were clearly surgically enhanced, but unlike Cunts’, they were not brash and in-your-face, but done with taste and discretion. She was slender and tall, with high cheekbones, a flat stomach, a shaven cunt, and a tight ass. “She doesn’t look older than thirty…” Alison thought to herself. “Surely she’s totally fuckable – why cull her?!”

Hildegard gestured for the students to sit on the couches, and dimmed the lights in the observation chamber so that they could see more clearly what was happening on the other side of the glass. Claire, eager to get a good view, sat next to Brad and the other boys in the front row. Alison, Eva and Harriet took their places in the second row. Dick-Dick stood in the shadows at the back of the room with Hildegard, who began to explain: “Nurse Datchet is now pouring Annabel her ‘fucklock’. It is based upon the same herb which Socrates drank in 400 B.C. – but it has been altered so that it only takes effect when the drinker orgasms. Annabel will leave this world in the ecstasy of Pleasure!”

As Annabel drank her delayed-action draft, the three male fuckers removed their lab coats to reveal their tall, tanned, muscular bodies. Alison, Claire and Harriet, as well as several of the women in the fuck-chamber, let out a long “ooooh” at the sight of their GM cocks, massive and erect, their cock-heads deep purple and throbbing with lust. Even Chad looked impressed. The three men approached Annabel, lifted her up, and placed her gently on the bed. Two of them began softly licking her tits, one on each side, while the third nuzzled his face between her legs and began to kiss his way up her boots towards her shaven slit. All three were clearly fuckers of the highest quality, for it was not long before Annabel was moaning in ecstasy, muttering, “Oh yeah, boys, eat me up, suck my tits, lick my cunt, make me feel good…”

By now, Chad, Darren and Joe all had their dicks out and were slowly stroking them as they watched the cluster-fuck developing in front of them. Claire and Bradley were feeling each other up. Harriet had lit a cigarette and was smoking it fast and deep, while gently fucking herself with her favourite pink dildo. Alison, aroused by the sheer beauty and hotness of the scene unfolding on the other side of the screen, reached under her skirt and started slowly sliding her middle finger in and out of her slimy asshole while gently rubbing her clit with her thumb. Behind her, she heard Hildegard unzip Dick-Dick’s fly.

In the fuck-chamber, some of the family guests were also beginning to stroke and lick each other. Alison couldn’t tell exactly who was who, but one young lady – the spitting image of Annabel, and dressed in a matching basque, so perhaps her daughter – spread her legs to allow a young man with black hair and black leather trousers to eat her cunt. Nearby, a girl dressed as a French maid was sucking the cock of a man wearing a black suit and clerical collar, as he read from a small book:

Listen, I tell you a mystery:

We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed –

in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet.

For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable,

and we will be changed.

“Oh, zat’s beautiful, Duncan,” said the French maid, as she briefly paused her cock-sucking. “I leuve it when you read zat book while I seuck your cock…”

Annabel was now sitting, reverse cowgirl, on one of her fuckers’ cocks, while sucking off the other two. Her cock-speared cunt was on full display towards the glass partition, so that Alison and her colleagues could admire her large shiny clit and flappy fuck-lips, which flopped back and forth as the huge cock drilled in and out. “Oh yeah, fuck me with that big dick,” she called, before opening her mouth wide to take both remaining cocks into her mouth at once.

Alison glanced backwards, and in the darkness could just make out Hildegard, now on her knees, licking up and down the full length of Dick-Dick’s long shaft. Claire and Brad were still seated in the front row, pleasuring each other with lustful abandon, Claire’s fist jerking up and down on Brad’s small cock, while his fingers probed deep into her wet cunt. Harriet left her dildo poking hands-free out of her pussy for a few seconds in order to chain-light another cigarette, before flicking her used butt across the room into the corner and resuming her self-dildoing. She tapped Joe and Darren on the shoulders, beckoning to them to join her – which they did, proffering their hard cocks for her to suck on while she continued to smoke.

Amongst the boys, only Chad was left alone.

Soon Annabel was airtight, one stud fucking her cunt from below, another sliding his dick into her ass doggy-style, and the third fucking her face, so that she squealed, moaned and gagged all at once, strings of saliva dangling and swinging from her chin, her ass alternately gaping and filling up with her assfucker’s huge member. All around her, her friends and family had grouped themselves into little fuck-clusters – eating cunt, sucking cock, and fucking in various different combinations. Nurse Datchet, her uniform now open at the front, was having her large tits sucked by a beautiful blond girl wearing red leather and sporting shiny red lipstick. Moans, whimpers and fuck-talk filled the room, as the man with the clerical collar continued to recite scripture:

“The perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable,
and the mortal with immortality.”

“Oh yeah, fuck my ass with your big cock, Daddy!”

“Death has been swallowed up in victory!”

“Fuck me, goddamit, fuck my cunt hard!”

“Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting?”

“Please, Aunt Jemima, ram that fucking fist in my pussy!”

Alison noticed Chad looking around, his cock hard and glistening with pre-cum, but appearing distinctly lonely. Seeing that Eva was the only girl left in the room who wasn’t pleasuring anyone, he stood up and walked around to the second row, waving his huge cock in her face and snapping his fingers, as if instructing her to suck it. Alison had seen Chad do this to her before, and in the past she would always obey. But this time she shook her head. Chad did not give up: “Suck it, bitch,” he muttered, so that no one else in the room would hear.

“Fuck off, Chad,” replied Eva quietly.

“What did you fucking say, whore?” replied Chad.

“You heard me, dickhead. You don’t fucking own me – and I don’t have to fucking suck your cock if I don’t want to.”

“Oh, but you do want to, filthy cunt. And I do fucking own you, ‘coz you’re a worthless fucking black whore, and you depend upon guys like me for your pleasure, for your jobs, for your money, for…”

“Leave her alone, Chad,” interrupted Alison. She looked around. All the others were far too busy to notice, in the dark, what was going on between Eva and Chad. And the clamour of fuck-noises, dirty talk and scripture readings from beyond the glass drowned out the sound of Chad’s increasingly aggressive voice.

“Oh, so your new white friend is protecting you, Eva!” Chad mocked. “What lies did you fucking tell her, to get her on your side? All about your poor Mommy and Daddy being expelled, and how hard it is being a black cunt in the white man’s world, and all about your big-dicked brother who’s given up everything for you? It’s all bullshit, you know, Al? She’s just…”

“Shut the fuck up, Chad!” interrupted Alison, removing her middle finger from her asshole and sticking it up, glistening, slimy and stinking, towards his face.

“NO, YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!” replied Chad. In one swift movement he turned away from Eva and slapped Alison hard in the face with the back of his hand, knocking her sideways off her couch. Eva screamed. The others in the observation room turned their heads in astonishment, and Dick-Dick pulled his cock out of Hildegard’s face and gaped in horror.

“CHAD!” bellowed Dick-Dick. “HOW DARE YOU?!” Chad didn’t wait for further reprimands. He zipped his penis up into his trousers and stalked swiftly out. “CHAD, YOU COME BACK HERE AT ONCE!” shouted Dick-Dick, his long gleaming cock still dangling and waggling in front of him – but the boy was gone. Hildegard stared after him in amazement, saliva dripping down her chin onto her massive tits.

“Oh, Alison, baby!” cried Claire, abandoning Bradley, as she and Eva came to her aid. Dick-Dick, clearly mortified and shocked, kept muttering, “Oh my God… oh no! Chad – why on earth?” over and over to himself, as he helped to lift Alison gently off the floor and placed her back on the couch. Hildegard left the room briefly, returning with an ice-pack which Alison pressed to her face. Claire and Eva placed their arms around her, comforting her with lots of hugs and kisses. Even Harriet abandoned her double blowjob to also come to Alison’s aid – much to Joe and Darren’s dismay.

But the action behind the one-way glass had not stopped. Annabel was lying on the bed now, frantically rubbing her clit with her fingers. “I’m gonna fucking come, boys, this is it. Time to cover me with your jizz!” The three fuckers stood around her, stroking their cocks, ready to squirt. The others in the fuck-chamber, aware that Annabel’s end was nigh, turned to watch, but did not cease their fucking. The cleric continued reading from his Bible, as the French maid at his feet started to jerk his cock into her face. The Annabel lookalike, who was now being fucked doggy-style, started to moan with her impending orgasm, muttering, “Cum in my fucking cunt while I watch my Mommy croak, baby, yeah, cum in that hot cunt.”

“Here it comes,” Annabel screamed, “I’m coming, I’m fucking coming, I’m…OH FUUUUUUUUCK!!!” The three fuckers released their loads in perfect synchronisation, their cum spurts criss-crossing each other, making a gloopy three-way lattice of cock-snot which covered Annabel’s hair, eyes, nose, mouth, cheeks, neck and tits. The cleric released spurt after spurt of hot cum over the French maid’s face; it pooled in her eyes, then dripped from her mouth and chin onto the lace of her uniform. Annabel’s daughter’s stud withdrew his cock from her cunt, allowing his copious creampie to drip from her fuck-lips and dribble down her thighs onto their couch. In the observation chamber, Bradley, Darren and Joe were unable to hold back, jerking their cum-loads across the floor in front of them. Annabel screamed one last “FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK…”, and then was still.

Annabel lay on the bed, her long black hair splayed wide, her face and tits covered with cum, her fucked-out cunt and ass still gaping wide, as the three fuckers shook the last few drops of semen from their cocks and then slowly stood up, standing back from the bed and bowing their heads respectfully, as their penises gradually went flaccid. Nurse Datchet, by now naked except for her red-cross cap, large smears of red lipstick on her tits, glided forward and gently lifted Annabel’s wrist to take her pulse. After a few seconds, she nodded, folded Annabel’s arms over her tits, and drew a sheet up and over her entire corpse. She pushed a button on the wall, whereupon the bed, with Annabel’s body on it, began slowly to move backwards, gently pushing through the drapes at the back of the fuck-chamber and disappearing from sight.

“I am so sorry, Hildegard, for Chad’s behaviour,” said Dick-Dick, as the lights came back on in the observation room. “I don’t know what got into him…”

“Ach, never mind that, Dick. He is a very impressive lad. But I am sorry I didn’t have the chance to finish your blowjob.”

“Story of my life, Hildegard – if only you knew! Alison, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” replied Alison, removing the ice-pack to reveal a faint blue welt which was beginning to appear on her cheek. “This is getting to be a bit of a habit!” she added nervously, in an attempt at levity, as she glanced at Eva.

Hildegard seemed more interested in the perpetrator than the victim. “Chad who – did you say?” she asked.

“Uh, Halloway,” said Dick-Dick. “I am so shocked: this sort of behaviour is utterly unacceptable from our students. It will have to be dealt with at the highest level: it might mean suspension, or even rustication…”

“Hmm,” noted Hildegard thoughtfully, before changing the subject swiftly. “Well, would you like to meet the family now? They said they’d be happy to welcome you to the wake.”

The entire party filed out into the entrance lobby, where the friends and family, as well as a large spread of canapés, awaited them. Claire eyed up the petits-fours lustfully, before Alison pulled her back to the group.

“Professor Dick, I’d like you to meet Annabel’s daughter, Belladonna…” said Hildegard, introducing the Annabel lookalike, who paused eating cum out of her cunt to say a gracious “Lick my pussy” to Dick-Dick and his student group, “… and her son, the Reverend Duncan Williams, and his wife Genevieve,” gesturing to the cleric and the French maid, the latter of whom was wiping semen off her face with her hand and happily slurping it off her fingers.

“It has been a privilege for us to share this special moment with you,” said Dick-Dick to the vicar. “Your mother passed away with such dignity and good taste. You must be very proud of her.” All the students nodded enthusiastically – especially the boys, who were wiping their cocks off and stowing them back in their trousers. Claire and Eva continued to nurse Alison, getting her another drink of water, and giving her lots of hugs and kisses. Harriet lit a new cigarette and blew dignified and respectful cones of smoke across the room, as she stowed her dildo in her handbag.

“Are you okay, Al?” asked Claire, stroking her friend’s cheek.

“Yeah, I’m fine. At least, no blood drawn this time!” She smiled tentatively at Eva, who said in reply, “Thank you, Alison. You needn’t have done that for me…”

“Maybe not. But I wasn’t gonna let that dickhead…”

But Alison never got to finish her sentence, for suddenly the air was rent by a blood-curling scream. “NOOOOOOO!!!” A man ran out of a side-corridor and across the hallway towards the front door. He was completely naked, with black skin and grey hair, and a wiry build. The entire funeral party, as well as all the students, paused in astonishment. Eva clasped her hands to her mouth in horror.

“DOORS!” bellowed Hildegard. Nurse Datchet hastily slammed her fist onto a red button on the wall, and the glass front doors slammed shut.

The man hurled himself at the doors, straining every sinew, in vain, to open them. “LET ME OUT!” he screamed. “I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TRYING TO DO TO ME! I DON’T WANT TO DIE – I DON’T WANT TO DIE!” His naked dark-skinned figure scrabbled at the doors, and then hurled itself at them in a desperate attempt to break out.

“GUARDS! ESCAPED CLIENT!” shouted Hildegard. “PREPARE NUMBER SIX!” The three male fuckers, still naked, ran into the hallway from the fuck-chamber next door, seized weapons from behind the reception desk, and took aim at the desperate escapee.

“NO!!!” screamed Eva.

“FIRE!” bellowed Hildegard. All three fucker-guards fired in unison. The black man, his body spread-eagled in desperation against the doors, screamed, froze, and then slid slowly down the door, leaving a long smear of blood against the glass, as he crumpled into a heap on the floor.

“Oh Jesus…” cried Alison. She looked at Eva, who was trembling from head to foot and whose face was frozen in utter horror.

“Daddy!” Eva whispered. She swayed for a few seconds, and then fainted.

~

The sky seemed greyer, and the nave dimmer than usual, as Alison shuffled into Wankminster Cathedral that evening.

“Forgive me, Fucker, for I have sinned.” Alison’s lower lip trembled as she spoke.

“How long has it been since your last Confession?” came a familiar reassuring voice.

“Oh, not long, Fucker – just a few days, but… a lot has happened in those few days – I hardly know where to begin.” She wrung her hands in desperation, as if trying to wash her pain away.

“Take your time, there’s no hurry, my sister.”

“Well, I think I might have told you last time that a man… declared love to me.”

“Ah, yes… Have you been able to forgive your attacker?”

“Well, I’m trying to. But since then, his sister attacked me – like, tried to bite my tit off – and I was off school for a couple of weeks. We’ve made up now: I mean, I ate her cunt, and she fisted my ass and everything, so I think we’re going to be good friends. But… but she’s been telling me… about love…”

“What has she said?” The priest’s voice took on an air of alarm.

“Well – and also, I forgot to say, two post-grad students at the Academy left. Actually, they’ve left the Union, and are getting married for love… And they want to have kids, like, the ‘natural’ way, you know, by fucking, and then, like, out of her cunt…? And my friend – you know, the one who bit my tit, the sister of the guy who said he loved me – she says that originally, in the Bible, it, like, talks about love and stuff and… and today, this boy hit me… and then I saw a man being culled – and it was my friend’s dad, and… and I know culling is supposed to be voluntary, but this sure as fuck wasn’t, and, well… I don’t know any more what to believe. I was brought up to be a good girl, you know, to fuck around, to give pleasure, to follow the ideals of the Enlightenment. But now everything seems wrong, and the more I see the worse it seems. I just don’t know what to believe any more, Fucker, and I’m so… scared…” Alison’s voice trailed off, fearful that she might have said too much.

There was a long pause, before the priest replied slowly, weighing his words carefully. “Sister, you are straying into very dangerous territory, you know. I cannot answer your questions. If I did, even in the privacy of Confession, I would be putting myself in danger as well. I advise you to turn away from this path, and go back to fucking around and giving pleasure. In this Enlightened society we live in, some things are best not thought about too deeply; mindless pleasure can be preferable.”

“Yeah, but, Fucker, I – ”

“Hear me out, sister. If you are determined to learn more about these things you are so concerned about, visit a friend of mine. His name is Ambrose, and you can find him at 38B Tottenham Cunt Road. Knock three times on the green door. If someone answers, say only that ‘the shepherd’ sent you. They will pass you a small book through the cat-flap: take it quietly, and leave immediately. Keep this to yourself, tell no one where you are going, and be very discreet.”

“Oh, and this Ambrose, is he – ”

“No more questions, sister. Your penance is to say one Our Fucker and three Eat My Cunt Marys. Now, would you like to make an act of contrition?”

“Uh, oh, yes please, I like that bit best. But, uh – could you do it in my ass? My face is feeling a bit bruised…”

“Of course, my sister, that is your choice.” The panel in the screen slid open, revealing the confessional gloryhole. Alison turned around, hitched up her skirt, and pressed her buttocks against the screen. She felt the thick ecclesiastical cock enter her asshole with a gentle squelch. The priest muttered “oh fuck” under his breath, and began to slowly slide his presbyterial dick in and out of her rectum.

CHAPTER ELEVEN:
A DIRTY FILTHY MOTHERFUCKING ASSFUCKING WHORE

Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.

It was Saturday morning, and Alison was seated on the floor in the corner of her room at Fuckers’ Hall. She frowned, as she tried to decipher the little black book she had been handed through the cat-flap in the green door on Tottenham Cunt Road. “Love… love… love…” – it was like listening to an amateur trying to do dirty talk: “Fuck… fuck… fuck…” But there was something deeply compelling, almost visceral about it. Just as fuck-talk always made her cunt juice up, ‘love’-talk was making her heart flutter. It seemed to conjure a world she had barely considered till now, a world beyond Pleasure. She trembled at the thought.

“What are you reading, Al?” asked Claire. She and Bradley were sitting side by side on Alison’s bed, stroking each other as usual while watching a fuck-flick. This one featured a beautiful slender blonde made up and dressed as a fuck-doll, being DPed by two men.

“Nothing, just something someone gave me,” replied Alison, secreting the Bible behind her.

“What do you mean, nothing?” said Claire, getting up and striding over. “You’ve been stealing secret glances at that book all week. Lemme see!”

“No, really, it’s nothing,” Alison remonstrated.

“Hey, Al, what’s come over you? It’s me! You used to share everything with me. Don’t shut me out: that’s not fair!” On the screen, the two men were tossing their “doll” around, lifting her bodily off the ground and spreading her legs wide to give her a standing-up DP. The camera zoomed in to an upskirt close-up of the girl’s perineum, which glistened with cunt-cream as the two cocks pounded in and out of both her orifices in alternation. Bradley was slowly stroking his cock as he watched intently, ignoring the anguished conversation from the corner – which he had heard, in a number of different variations, several times already this week.

“Doesn’t it bother you at all,” said Alison, her internal anguish suddenly breaking the surface, “that an innocent man was murdered in front of our eyes – here, in this so-called Enlightened land?!”

Claire paused. “Hey, I don’t wanna sound nasty: it a real shame and all – but, I mean, he was overage, and an Undesirable, and even though he’d been expelled, he sneaked back into the Union illegally. I mean, he must have known that if he was caught he’d be culled. Anyway, that hospice has been shut ever since, so they must be holding an investigation: if something bad happened, they’ll sort it out. Besides, what’s that got to do with that book of yours?”

“Claire, Eva loved her parents so much…”

“‘Loved’? Jesus fucking Christ, Alison, not again! Not so long ago you were telling me how awful love is!” Claire switched to doing an impression of Alison in self-righteous mode: “‘It’s ideas like “love” which take the decent, free-fucking youth of our society and turn them into perverts.’ Remember saying that, Al? So what’s come over you now?”

Fear and guilt and confusion washed over Alison like a wave, and she broke down in howls of tears. “I don’t know, I don’t fucking know!” she bawled. “I can’t help myself. Nothing makes sense any more…!”

 “Aw fuuuck, fuuuck, sweet cunt,” crooned Claire, kneeling down, putting her arms around Alison and kissing away the tears. On the screen, the “doll” was now hanging upside-down by her boots from the ceiling, the two men alternately fucking her face as she swung back and forth. Bradley was fapping in rapt concentration. Alison continued to sob, tears and snot running down her face, but reached behind her back and wordlessly handed Claire the book. Claire took it cautiously, and then began to read out loud:

God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. This is how love is made complete among us. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear. We love because he first loved us. Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen. And he has given us this command: Anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister…

Claire’s voice trailed off. “Oh fuck, Alison – this is disgusting, this is fucking obscene!” she said, not even attempting to disguise the repugnance in her voice. “Jesus, what is this shit? Where did you get this?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you where I got it: this book’s proscribed,” replied Alison. “But this… is the Bible – the real Bible, not the re-translated one we use in the C of E these days. This text” – her voice trembled as she said it – “is the foundation of Western civilisation, and –”

“And that’s why ‘Western civilisation’ was total shit, and why we needed the Enlightenment!” interrupted Claire. “And look at you: ‘Perfect love drives out fear’ – bullshit! All this week you’ve been crying and mewling and trembling: you’re a total fucking wreck. ‘Drives out fear’, my ass! Now, I’m gonna confiscate this from you, Alison, okay? – and you are not to look at this horseshit again – do you hear me? It’s illegal, and it’s dangerous – no wonder you’re all fucked up! What would your parents say? And you’re supposed to be a fucker, goddammit, a fucker! BRAD!”

“Wha…at?” Brad answered vaguely, still intent upon watching the “doll”, who was now taking two large loads of cum on her upside-down face as she swung helplessly back and forth between her two fuckers. “Can’t I come first?”

“Fucking no! Get your dick over here already! Alison needs some therapy.” Brad got up wearily and, still stroking his stiff glistening cock, started walking over to the two girls, as Claire turned back to Alison: “Al – repeat after me: ‘I’m a dirty, filthy, motherfucking, assfucking whore!’”

“Oh, that’s not very original, Claire,” said Alison, sniffing and wiping away her tears, “it comes from that vintage fuck-flick with what’s-her-name, Hillary something-or-other, you know –”

“Well, as you know, Miss Assfuck Guttermouth, I’ve never been very original with my fuck-talk! So just say it, goddammit! It’ll make you feel better: ‘I’m a dirty, filthy, motherfucking, assfucking whore!’”

“I’m a dirty filthy motherfucking assfucking whore…” mumbled Alison, with little conviction, as she wiped her runny nose with the back of her hand.

“Louder!” urged Claire.

“I’m a dirty, filthy, motherfucking, assfucking whore!”

“LOUDER, CUNT!”

“I’M A DIRTY, FILTHY, MOTHERFUCKING, ASSFUCKING WHORE!”

“BETTER! NOW JERK YOURSELF OFF, AND KEEP REPEATING UNTIL YOU COME!”

Alison blew a sinusful of snot onto her hand, reached down, and smeared it over her vulva. “I’m a dirty, filthy, motherfucking, assfucking whore!” she began to repeat over and over, as she rubbed her slimy clit. “I’M A DIRTY, FILTHY, MOTHERFUCKING, ASSFUCKING WHORE!!”

“OH YEAH, AL, GO ON: RUB THAT SNOTTY FUCKING CUNT AND MAKE YOURSELF COME FOR ME!”

Alison’s customary fucker’s lust was being rekindled again. She blew more snot and spit into her hand and rubbed it over her vulva. Thoughts of love and God rapidly receded, as she continued to bellow: “I’M A DIRTY, FILTHY, MOTHERFUCKING, ASSFUCKING WHORE!!!”

Brad stood, still stroking his cock, poised between the screen and the two girls. If he looked to the right, he could watch the fetish “doll”, now released from her chains, crawling on the ground licking cum off the floor while repeating “I obey, master; I obey, master.” If he looked left he saw Alison rubbing her hot slimy cunt with the heel of her hand while Claire screamed at her: “COME ON, AL, CALL YOURSELF AN ASSFUCKING WHORE? WELL FUCKING PROVE IT! PUT THAT FUCKING FIST IN YOUR FUCKING ASS!”

“YOU WANNA SEE MY FIST IN MY SHITTER, YOU DIRTY CUNT?” Alison shouted in reply, as pure filthy lust regained its customary pre-eminence in her psyche. “WELL, FUCKING WATCH THIS!”

Alison balled her fist and rammed it mercilessly into her asshole. She almost surprised herself with the sheer filthy pleasure she felt from the hot hard squelch of her fist burying itself deep. She basked in the feeling of her fingers twisting and turning in her ass, exploring every last rectal nook and cranny, and soon she was screaming at the top of her voice: “I’M COMING! I’M FUCKING COMING! THIS MOTHERFUCKING ASSFUCKING WHORE IS FUCKING SHIT-COMING OVER HER FUCKING FIST – ‘COZ I’M A DIRTY, FILTHY, ASS-FISTING FUCKING WHORE! I’M A WHORE!! I’M A FUCKING WHORE!!!”

“FUCK YEAH, DO IT, ASS-FISTING WHORE!” screeched Claire. “BRAD! CUM ON HER FUCKING FACE! DO IT NOW!”

Bradley did as he was told. “Oh yeah, oh fuck, oh Jesus,” he muttered as he glazed Alison’s face with several well-aimed spurts of hot cum. Soon Alison was weeping again – but this time with lustful pleasure and gratitude as she mumbled, “Oh fuck, oh God – thank you Brad, thank you Claire…” Her tears mixed gently with Bradley’s cum, making little white stripes dribble down her cheeks.

It took some time for Alison’s ecstasy to subside. “Oh God, Claire,” she said, as her blond friend licked cum and tears off her face. “I’m so sorry: I know I’ve been playing with fire, reading all this God-shit. It’s just – I’m so confused. First Rob, then Eva, then Chad, then watching that man get culled in broad daylight: it just makes me almost… almost doubt the Enlightenment. I know that sounds terrible…”

“Whoa there, bitch! Just because some things go wrong in the Enlightened world doesn’t give us the right to doubt the whole thing,” Claire corrected her. “You’re too much of an idealist, Al: you need to embrace the greys more. The Enlightenment works a damn sight better than anything they’ve got in the Outside World. And frankly, that ‘love’ stuff you were just reading is one huge pile of stinking horseshit. If anything doesn’t fucking work, that doesn’t. “‘If we love one another, God lives in us’? Bull-fucking-shit! What the fuck does that mean anyway?”

“I know, I know, I don’t know… I’m just… I’m just confused, that’s all, baby…”

“Well, we’re gonna un-confuse you. First – BRAD, QUIT JERKING OFF ALL THE TIME AND GET YOUR FUCKING DICK OVER HERE!” Brad had returned quietly to the bed, and had just pressed play on a new film – entitled Lesbian Anal Gape Piss Orgy III – but now he dutifully turned it off.

“Okay, Alison,” continued Claire, “let’s go through your list. Number one: Rob – well, he’s gone, and good fucking riddance, I say. Number two: Chad – we can’t stop him being a fucking dickhead, but he’s not reappeared at the Academy ever since he hit you at the Princess Asshole place. I mean, attacking a fellow student like that, what the fuck? And he’s not gonna say sorry like Eva did to you, so I reckon they’re gonna kick him out. So that just leaves number three: Eva and her dead dad – what have you heard from her?”

“Nothing. Nobody’s seen her at the Academy since Monday, and none of the others seem to have heard from her. I asked Dick-Dick: he was pretty cagey, but said she’s staying at home in her flat. Compassionate leave, until after her dad’s funeral.”

“Has she got anyone with her?”

“I don’t know. I mean, her family are all exiled now, aren’t they? And she’s not responding to any messages.”

“Hmmm…” Claire thought for a while. “Doesn’t sound good. Let’s pay her a visit. You’ve got the address, don’t you?”

“Uh yeah, it’s near Fuckney Bridge. We’d have to take the tube, Dickstrict Line – change at Earls Cunt.”

“Well, no time like the present. Come on, let’s go. Brad, stow that dick, we’re off to do some fucking bereavement counselling.”

~

An hour later, Claire, Alison and Brad were standing in front of a non-descript maisonette on a side street round the corner from Fuckney Bridge tube station. “Here we are,” said Alison, checking the address. She rang the doorbell, and then stood back to wait for an answer. Out of the corner of her eye, the thought she saw a curtain twitch in one of the upstairs windows. But there was no answer from the door. She rang again, and waited.

Claire called through the letterbox: “Eva, it’s us! We know you’re in there. Come on, let us in. We’re worried about you.” There was silence.

“Hey, bestest ebony whore,” Claire tried again, “we’ve even brought Dinky-Dick with us so he can splatter your pretty face with cum.” There was no answer.

“Let me try,” said Alison. She put her mouth to the letter-box and called:

Love is patient, love is kind.
It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

“Mind your language!” muttered a passing pedestrian. “Fucking cunt…”

Alison stuck her middle finger up at him, and continued:

It always protects, always trusts,
always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.

There was a pause, before Alison heard soft footsteps from inside. “At last!” she sighed. The door creaked slowly open – but it was not Eva after all, but Harriet, topless, with a packet of cigarettes stuck into the elastic of her pink bikini bottom.

“Harriet!” exclaimed Alison.

“What the fuck?” said Claire.

“Come in, guys,” said Harriet with a knowing smile. “We guessed you’d turn up eventually!” She led them down a short narrow corridor towards the living room. As Alison approached the entrance to the lounge, the first thing she saw was Eva kneeling on the floor, gently sucking the cock of someone relaxing on an armchair.

It took a split second for Alison to realise that she recognised that cock from somewhere: it was jet-black, stiff as a rod, some eight inches tall – and beautiful, oh so beautiful – more beautiful than any other cock she had ever seen. “No fucking way,” she thought. “It can’t be!”

But it was. As she turned the corner, her eyes travelled upwards from the cock, up the bare black chest, to that familiar twinkling face.

“Suck my cock,” said Rob, smiling at Alison. “Coffee?”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!!!” Alison screamed.

“YOU?!” screamed Claire.

“ROB – WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” Alison shouted. Furious and humiliated, questions flooded her brain. What was he doing here? Hadn’t he left the country? Or had everyone lied to her about it? Had Eva lied to her, whilst Rob was all along holed up in her flat? And what about Harriet? Had she known about this all along? Why had Eva not replied to any of her messages – but clearly invited Harriet to see her? And what did this have to do with the old man shot in front of their eyes in the hospice? “WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?!!!” she screamed.

Underneath her rage, however, a small part of Alison – so small she was barely aware of it – was relieved. She had gone through a lot of trauma since that dreadful night when Rob had re-appeared in her room – and his declaration of love now seemed, frankly, a minor part of it. She wasn’t as angry at him, or as hurt: somehow, nothing seemed quite so black-and-white any more. Her cherished identity as a fucker, of which her parents were so proud, and the Enlightenment ideals which she had always so valued, now seemed more precarious than she would ever have believed possible. The way Rob had treated her that night three weeks ago was perhaps not so utterly despicable; the man was misguided, to be sure – but she might just be able to forgive him for it… now that he was here. A small part of her smiled inwardly at the thought.

First, though, explanations were needed – and Rob and Eva seemed to realise that they had to provide them. Eva released her big brother’s cock-head from her mouth with a loud “pop”, leaving it bobbing, rigid and vertical. “I’m sorry, Alison, for not telling you sooner,” she said, standing up to give Alison a tender wet precum-scented kiss on the lips. “As soon as he heard about Daddy being shot, Rob came back, out of concern for me. I didn’t tell you, not because I didn’t trust you, but because I was worried that if your parents found out, they might want to press charges against him. That’s why Harriet knew and not you, you see…” She squeezed Alison’s breasts affectionately.

Harriet nodded in confirmation, lighting a cigarette as she sat down on the sofa at the other end of the room. Bradley followed and sat down next to her, admiring her bare tits as they heaved up and down. Eva knelt down again to gently stroke her brother’s cock, massaging pre-cum and saliva into the pulsating purple-brown dickhead. Alison and Claire stayed standing in the doorway: Claire had her hands on her hips, her head shaking with exasperation and bewilderment, her mouth opening and shutting as she searched for words to express her indignation. “Okay, so what the fuck was your dad doing here anyway?” she demanded impatiently. “And, Rob, aren’t you worried the same might happen to you if the authorities find out you’re here?” Rob’s cock twitched slightly under his sister’s caresses.

“No,” said Rob, “unless Alison tells her parents and they press charges. I’m an Undesirable, but not an illegal per se, because I’m sterilised and underage. And, with Professor Dick’s help, I have secured permission to take my father’s body – the funeral is tomorrow – back home to my mother. I’m hoping, Alison, that you won’t tell your parents, or that if you do they may have calmed down by now: I’m not going to stay here long – just until Monday, when Eva will go back to the Academy. I have to go back to my mother, who is a widow now.” There was a look of despair on Rob’s face, the glimmer in his eyes dimmed, and his cock started to go ever so slightly less than fully rigid. Eva bent down to give it an affectionate suck, and it stiffened up again. Briefly, Alison’s eyes were drawn again to its dark masculine beauty, and she remembered the first time she had set eyes on it – on the Whiteshit Express some five weeks previous; her pussy tingled ever so slightly. Harriet was smoking in silence, and Bradley had got his cock out and was gently stroking it as he watched her tits rise and fall.

“My father made a terrible mistake,” continued Rob. He heard how badly Eva had gone off the rails when she attacked you, and came to comfort her. He loved her very much…” Rob’s voice cracked slightly and his eyes glistened. Claire turned away, grimacing and muttering self-righteously under her breath, “fucking ‘love’ again – Jesus…!” Mention of her father’s love was too much for Eva too, and she began to choke up, tears flowing down her cheeks, and thence down Rob’s thick shaft onto his balls.

“But he was unsterilised and overage,” continued Rob, tenderly wiping the tears from Eva’s eyes, “illegal on two counts. The day he was caught he was actually on his way out of the country again – but he was arrested at the docks and, because he was black, sent straight to hospice. A white man would at least have been granted a trial…” Rob’s voice turned briefly bitter, and in his evident anger he began to stand up – briefly gagging his tearful sister with his cock.

“Can’t you call for an investigation?” asked Alison. “Surely hospices shouldn’t be culling anyone without a court order anyway!”

“Ha!” scoffed Rob, as Eva pushed him back onto the sofa and sank her mouth right down over his shaft, lodging his cock-head deep into her throat. “Oh fuck, that’s good, sis…” muttered Rob.

“I ‘ow how to ma’e you ‘eel be’er, ‘on’t I?” glubbed Eva, squeezing Rob’s dickhead with the inner walls of her throat. She pulled slowly back off again, letting a long rope of throat-slime dangle from her mouth, and rubbing it into Rob’s cock. Bradley was now gently massaging Harriet’s huge tits with one hand while stroking his cock with the other, as she amused herself blowing smoke rings toward the ceiling. “Alison,” said Eva, tears leaking from her eyes and spit swinging from her chin, “nobody in this Union investigates the death of a black man – least of all an illegal black man. The few of us that are still here are only allowed to remain in order to satisfy white people’s penchant for fucking black ass.”

“Yeah, and I guess I used to think that was okay…” said Alison regretfully. “Remember what I said to you on the train, Rob?”

“I remember everything you said to me on that train, Alison.” Rob paused, as if he wanted to say more – but held himself back. Claire raised an eyebrow and snarled suspiciously. Bradley was now leaning over Harriet, gently sucking her tits while stroking his cock. Harriet was smoking with luxuriant elegance, snap-inhaling huge churning balls of white smoke into her open mouth, before directing perfectly-shaped cones up and over Bradley’s head. Each inhale, Alison thought briefly, looked like she was swallowing a large mouthful of cum: no wonder Bradley liked watching her…

“That hospice has been closed down, though,” interjected Claire, attempting to soften her attitude and interject a grain of hope into the conversation.

“It’ll open again soon,” scoffed Eva, “after the spotlight has been taken off it. And with Chad Halloway as Deputy Chief Fucker, if I know rightly!” she smirked bitterly, as she stroked her brother’s spit-slimy cock with one hand.

“Chad?!” exclaimed Alison and Claire.

“Didn’t you see how Hildegard was eyeing him up? She wanted him for her own, to join her troupe of heartless, big-dicked fucker-executioners. He’d be perfectly suited to the job, I think.” Eva spat the words out with such bile that even Harriet paused her smoking to look at her.

“Did he really hurt you, Eva?” asked Alison. Eva stopped stroking Rob’s shaft, clearly thinking how to respond. The only sound came from the sofa at the other end of the room, where Bradley was now slurping noisily at Harriet’s cunt. Harriet dangled her cigarette between her lips, so she could knead her own breasts with both hands as she smoked, inhaling deeply and letting smoke cascade out of her nostrils and down onto her tits. She moaned quietly, muttering the occasional “fuck yeah” under her breath, which made her cigarette jiggle up and down between her lips.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” said Eva carefully, “not after what they did to my dad.” She looked into Alison’s eyes with steely clarity, then went back to slowly edging her brother’s cock. The sound of slurping continued to emanate from the interface between Bradley’s mouth and Harriet’s crotch.

“Will you come to the funeral?” asked Rob. “It’s tomorrow afternoon.”

“Where?”

“38B Tottenham Cunt Road. Knock twice – oh fuck…” he added, as Eva teased his frenulum with quick gentle flicks of her tongue.

“What? The place with the green door?”

“You know it?” Rob looked surprised.

“Uh, well…” Alison looked sheepishly at Claire, “I got a book there…” Claire looked wide-eyed at Alison, her mouth gaping in shock. Alison tried to pre-empt Claire’s inevitable scolding by hurriedly asking, “What is the place, actually?”

“Well, it’s where the few remaining ‘Old Believers’ hang out – those who follow the old religion, you know, which existed in Europe until the Enlightenment and the establishment of the C of E. The priest is called Father Ambrose Deconceicao.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” interrupted Claire. “You aren’t one of those ‘religion’ people, are you – you know, like ‘God is love’ and all that bullshit? I thought you were just an Undesirable ‘love’-pervert, but now it turns out you’re a religious perv as well – Jesus fucking Christ! Count me out of this! Come on, Al, let’s get outta here…” Claire pulled at Alison’s sleeve, in a vain attempt to get her to walk out. Eva smiled knowingly, her tongue gently tracing circles around Rob’s cock-head.

“Wait a moment, Claire,” said Alison, holding her palm up to halt her friend’s tirade. “Yeah, I’ll come to the funeral,” she continued quietly to Rob. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be careful,” she said to Claire, who was turning apoplectic with righteous indignation. “What about you, Harriet?”

Harriet, Bradley’s face still buried in her cunt, clamped her dwindling cigarette butt between her lips, closed one eye to protect herself from the smoke wisping from the end, and extracted a new cigarette from the packet in her bikini bottom. “Can I fuck?” she asked.

“Sorry, Harriet, no, it isn’t that kind of funeral,” replied Rob kindly.

“Can I smoke?” she said, lighting her new cigarette with the butt from her mouth and inhaling deeply.

“Best not.”

“Can I jerk off while fuck-speaking in tongues?” she asked, smoke sputtering from her mouth as she spoke.

Claire, by now incandescent with rage, did not wait to hear Rob’s answer: “Rob, this must be totally fucking illegal! Why weren’t all you fucking ‘God is love’ freaks expelled years ago? How can you have a church service where you can’t fuck? And what kind of fucking hypocrite are you, anyway? You go to a secret illegal church where you can’t even jerk off, where you talk about ‘God’ and all that shit – and then you come home and get your sister to suck your dick!” Eva’s smile remained inscrutable, as she slowly sucked Rob’s balls into her mouth one by one, popped them out, and then began to lick his perineum while his huge hard cock bobbed gently above her head. Bradley stood up, proffering his stiff cock to Harriet, who began to suck it deep into her mouth, smoke pouring from her nostrils.

Alison hesitated, torn between Claire’s anguished pleas and Rob’s calm, credible persuasiveness. “Claire,” she said, “please trust me: I’m not going to do anything stupid – cunty-promise, okay? I’m a fucker, remember? It’s just, Eva and Rob need our support. They’ve had a real shock.” She added, with some levity: “Why don’t you come with me tomorrow – that way you can keep an eye on me and stop me going off the rails? What about it?”

Claire paused and breathed deeply. Painfully, she said, “Okay, okay, Al. For you. And for Eva.” She scowled pointedly at Rob. “Tomorrow.”

“Oh, thank you, baby,” replied Alison, giving Claire’s lips a gentle kiss. There was a long pause – the only sound being the slurping from Harriet’s smoky blowjob, and the “pop” of Rob’s dick as Eva released it again from her mouth.

“Thank you, Alison,” said Eva. “Thank you, Claire. That’s really kind of you. Hey, can I eat your pussies – just to say thank you?”

“I think me and Al both need something to make us feel better,” sighed Claire in resignation.

“Well, as Alison often says,” responded Eva with a half-twinkle in her eye, “‘Pleasure is the way to bring people together.’”

And it was. Eva crawled over, knelt in front of the two girls, and started to eat Alison out while fingering Claire’s cunt. Rob got up to join Bradley, and the two of them DPed the ever-smoking Harriet on the sofa. Then all four girls made a cunt-eating daisy-chain – with Harriet at the top end giving Rob a smoky blowjob, and Alison at the bottom end being ass-fucked by Bradley. Then they rearranged themselves into a circle, Harriet sitting on Rob’s face while Claire sucked his cock, Alison eating Claire’s pussy from behind, Bradley licking out Alison’s now-gaping asshole while face-fucking Eva, and Harriet smoking while eating Eva’s cunt – blowing clouds of white smoke into her crotch so that her pussy looked as if it was on fire. Then they all turned round: Rob rammed his big black cock deep into Harriet’s smoky mouth as he slurped on Claire’s wet cunt, Claire slid her fist into Alison’s slimy asshole while chewing on her clit, Alison sucked Bradley’s balls while stroking his small stiff cock, and Bradley slurped ravenously on Eva’s juicy cunt as she in turn ate out Harriet.

And then the doorbell rang.

“Oh fuck!” swore Eva from between Harriet’s thighs. “Who the fuck is that?”

“Don’t worry, Evie,” said Rob, removing his face from Claire’s cunt, “it’ll be Angie from the Academy. She said she’d bring us the official papers for the funeral: Dick-Dick was sorting them out. Uh, could one of the white girls maybe answer the door – to avoid raising suspicion with the neighbours?”

“I’ll go,” said Alison, popping Bradley’s right testicle from her mouth, extricating Claire’s fist from her rectum with a loud squelch, and making her way into the corridor and to the front door.

It was indeed Angie, standing on the doorstep wearing a very short pair of white shorts and a halter-top which strained to contain her huge tits, her red hair in two pig-tails, bearing a briefcase of documents and – of course – blowing bubblegum. “Oh, m’ cunt, Alison – fancy meeting you here,” she said cheerfully. “Is Rob or Eva in?”

“Sure – uh, do you want me to take the papers from you, or do you want to pop in for a quick fuck?”

“Oh, are you all fucking?” remarked Angie, following Alison into the living room. “May I join you?”

“Please do, Angie,” said Rob, saliva dripping from his dick as he stood up to welcome his new guest.

And so Angie perched on the edge of the sofa, and Eva and Claire sat on either side of her, pulling down her top to suck her bulging freckled tits, while Harriet knelt, removing Angie’s shorts to lick her tight bald slit. Angie moaned, revelling in the pleasure of being licked by three girls while sloppily and noisily chewing her huge wad of gum.

Bradley clearly had a bit of a bubblegum fetish himself, for as Angie started to blow a bubble his cock stood immediately to attention. And as her bubble reached buttock-size, he stepped forward and stuck his stiff cock into it, popping it over her face and leaving a thin but messy coating of gum on his cock. “Fuck yeah!” he exclaimed. His hard cock was coated with pink gum, and Angie’s face looked like it had taken a massive pink facial: a thin film of gum covered her eyes, nose, cheeks and hair, and wispy strands dangled from her chin.

Angie tried to reach up to peel the gum off – but Eva signalled to Claire to join her in locking both of Angie’s hands behind her back. “Hey!” said the skinny redhead, “I wanna peel my gum off!”

“Well, you can’t, bubble-slut. We’re not gonna let you,” giggled Eva, her lips still wrapped around Angie’s huge right tit.

“But I wanna blow more bubbles,” moaned Angie through her faceful of gum. “I’ve got one bitch eating my cunt and two sucking my tits! When I’m horny I need to fucking blow bubbles,” she pleaded.

“So fucking blow bubbles, then,” Claire replied mischievously as she sucked on Angie’s other tit. “Nobody’s fucking stopping you!”

Angie did not wait: moaning in hedonistic ecstasy at the triple oral pleasuring she was receiving, she left the layer of gum on her face and worked her gum in her mouth again, blowing yet another huge bubble which grew larger than her head before Bradley popped it with his cock. And so things continued – Angie’s face and hair, and Bradley’s cock and balls, becoming gradually coated with layer upon layer of pink gum, sticky strands dangling obscenely off chin and cock alike. Harriet lit another cigarette, blowing smoke into Angie’s cunt as she licked it.

Alison stood watching in delight at the multi-fetish marvel playing out before her eyes – until she felt something stiff and warm probing between her ass-cheeks from behind. She felt Rob’s hot breath on her neck, and his cock gently sliding into her wet cunt. “Oh fuck,” she muttered, feeling the huge ebony dick fill her up, “I’d forgotten how amazing your cock feels…”

“Am I forgiven?” Rob whispered, his tongue gently flicking at her ear.

“Yes… No… Fuck, I don’t know,” Alison attempted to answer. “But… please… fuck me.”

“Come upstairs. These guys will be happy without us.”

And so it was. Upstairs, on Rob’s king-size bed, he slid his huge black dick into her pussy again. And he fucked her, like he had on the train, smoothly, softly, kissing her breasts and lips and neck – full of evident delight, respect, compassion and care. Alison didn’t quite understand what had come over her, but she revelled in the sensation of her smiling black stud tenderly pressing his warm body against hers, his arms enfolding her, his soft sweaty scent filling her nostrils. Under his gentle touch, she came again and again. But almost more than that, Alison felt something less specific, less tangible, something which seemed to overtake her emotions without her knowing how. Time disappeared. Rob’s body felt reassuring, safe – his touch firm, strong, respectful, selfless, self-giving. And when he eventually released his load, she had no desire for it in any of the classic “fucker” places – asshole, or face, or even on her beautiful puffy tits. She wanted it in her cunt – deep in her cunt. Instinctively, she felt it belonged there, that from there it might suffuse her, take her over, make her his, make them “one flesh”. She imagined briefly what in days long gone by might have happened to her if she had, unprotected, taken a man’s load deep inside her – and, for a very brief moment, it seemed like a wonderful thing.

CHAPTER TWELVE:
I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT I DO

“You can’t wear that!” exclaimed Alison.

“Why not? Isn’t it sluttish enough?” replied Claire. She was proudly showing off her tight black wet-look PVC one-piece dress, which barely covered the distance between her nipples and her ass. Her cunt lips peeped out cheekily from underneath.

“It’s too sluttish! This is an old-style religious service we’re going to: you’ve got to look modest and chaste and stuff – like they dressed before the Enlightenment.”

“Oh, but that’s so disgusting! Besides, how can you be ‘too sluttish’? There’s no such fucking thing as ‘too sluttish’!”

“Yeah, I know – but that’s how things are with these Old Believers. You need to cover up – long sleeves and long trousers and things. Here, try this,” said Alison, flinging some pieces of clothing out of her trunk.

“Where the fuck did you get these, Al?” Claire grimaced.

“Fancy dress party: ‘millenial’ themed…”

“These are so fucking awful,” declared Claire as she pulled on a pair of jeans and a blouse. “Look, the only tears in these jeans are at the knees: there aren’t any on my ass or my cunt. And this blouse is so fucking thick so you can’t even see my tits through it. How’s anyone gonna feel me up in this?”

“They’re not – that’s the point! In those days it was considered bad form to feel someone up without their consent.”

“Well, why would anyone withhold consent? Fucking Jesus!”

Alison ignored the question, but continued, “Here, and you have to wear these.”

“What the fuck is this?” asked Claire, holding up a piece of clothing the like of which she had never seen before.

“It’s called a ‘bra’. You wear it on your tits.”

“What, like this?” asked Claire, incredulously.

“No, no, it’s what they called ‘underwear’. You put it on under the blouse. And these –” Alison brandished an even stranger item of clothing, “are called ‘panties’. You wear them under your trousers.”

“Is the point of all this gear to stop anyone from even trying to fuck you? ‘Coz that what it looks like!”

“Yeah, maybe – but when in Rome… And they’re all going to be old-style believers there today, so let’s just try and behave, shall we?”

“Fucking God-freaks, you mean. Illegal, subversive, anti-social religious pervs. And I bet they’re all Undesirables: blacks and coloureds and…”

“Claire, calm down! We just go and sit and keep our mouths shut. Even if you can’t stand Rob, do it for Eva’s sake – okay?”

“Okay – but you gotta fuck me first, before we go in – otherwise I’m gonna go fucking crazy sitting in church for a whole hour with no jerking off allowed. Jesus…”

~

Conveniently, there was a bench on Tottenham Cunt Road where Alison could eat Claire’s pussy before the funeral started – even if doing so around jeans and panties made things a bit more complicated than they were used to. (“Jesus, Al, how did they ever fuck in the olden days?!”) And when Alison knocked twice on the green door, a smiling dark-skinned nun let them in and led them down a long plain corridor, to a small chapel with pews and kneelers arranged in a semi-circle facing a simple stone altar. “Hey, it’s like our fuck lab!” whispered Claire. “Is that where they fuck, on that table thing? That must be so fucking uncomfortable!”

“Sh!” signalled Alison. “Don’t use that word here!”

“What word? ‘Uncomfortable’? What’s wrong with saying…”

“‘Fuck’!” whispered Alison. “Don’t say ‘fuck’ here – it’s rude!”

“Oh yeah, sorry – I forgot… Don’t say ‘fuck’, yeah, okay…”

There were already a few people kneeling at the pews, praying or whispering quietly to each other. Unlike at Wankminster Abbey, no one was fucking. “No one’s even jerking off!” whispered Claire to Alison, amazed at the novel sight. “But look, I was right – they’re all coloureds and Asians and…”

“Shhhh!” Alison signalled to Claire to be quiet. In front of the altar, on a dais, was a simple wooden coffin. And seated in the front pew, backs to the door, were Eva and Rob, talking quietly with a dark-skinned priest whom Alison presumed to be Father Ambrose. Rob was dressed in a black suit and tie. Eva was wearing a long black dress, her hair straightened back into a simple ponytail, a black mantilla over her head. Alison and Claire sat down in a back pew.

“Jesus, Al, look at Eva!” whispered Claire. “She looks awful! No one’s gonna want to fuck something looking like that – oops, sorry, F-word. And who’s the Asian in the pyjamas?”

“I think he’s the priest – Father Ambrose. I think he might be Goan…”

“Well, they all look the same to me… Hey, is it true that if you go to confession you can get your throat fucked by the priest? That must be – oh fuck, sorry, there I go again – oops, oh fuck, I just can’t stop saying…”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, CLAIRE!” Alison whispered, but louder than she meant to. A few heads turned in the front pews. “Sorry…” Alison mouthed apologetically to the congregation. Eva and Rob noticed, turned, grinned and waved at their friends, as the chapel slowly filled with mourners.

Alison had never been to a non-fucking church service before – but she had at least been to church, and so knew to follow along with what everyone else was doing and copy their behaviour. Claire, on the other hand, was finding it very difficult. They were barely ten minutes into the service before she started whispering into Alison’s ear, “I am so fucking bored and so fucking horny. Hey, let’s sneak out and have a quick fuck – they won’t notice.”

“No, Claire, just sit down and shut up!” whispered Alison urgently.

“Surely they won’t mind if I just jerk off quietly here in the back pew. I won’t make any noise, I promise…” She slipped her hand between her thighs and started frustratedly rubbing her crotch through her denim jeans.

“You’re already making noise, Claire. Just shut up and sit still!”

“How can you stand it? Aren’t you horny too?” whispered Claire.

The truth is, Alison was. She was a fucker through and through, and was devoting much of her attention, as was her habit, to scouring the congregation for fuckable specimens. Truth be told, there weren’t many of them: most of the congregation looked, Alison thought, old and ugly: presumably all sterilised specimens of various types of Undesirables allowed, for exceptional reasons, to remain in the Union after the Expulsion – the last, sad, hidden representatives of their once-numerous communities, now decimated by exile or execution. But she amused herself by wondering what the few young, dark-skinned, handsome (or pretty) specimens of Undesirability present kept hidden under their well-buttoned clothes – remembering what Eva had said: “The few of us that are still here are only allowed to remain in order to satisfy white people’s penchant for fucking black ass…”

Father Ambrose was now reading out loud:

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

As Alison listened, she wondered briefly whether it was true. She felt weary and burdened, to be sure – from being ‘loved’ by Rob, from being attacked by Eva, from being assaulted by Chad, from watching the old man mown down in cold blood in the name of the Enlightenment, from all the jealousy and spite which seemed to permeate the whole world of state-sponsored fucking. Was there really someone who could lighten her burden? Tears welled up behind her eyes. Claire muttered next to her, “Fuck, I can’t jerk off through these fucking clothes. Is there a bathroom anywhere here?”

“Off that corridor, I think – where we came in.”

“See you later,” whispered Claire, sliding out of their pew and disappearing.

For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God…

“Oh Jesus, this is heavy!” thought Alison to herself. “‘Love… love… love’ – that’s all they fucking talk about, these God-freaks.” From her position close to the door, Alison could, much to her embarrassment, hear Claire moaning from the behind the door to the toilets. “Oh Jesus,” Alison thought, “if she wants to fucking jerk off, can’t she do it quietly? Last time I take her anywhere…”

Who will separate us from the love of God? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.

“‘Conquerors through love?’ What the fuck does that mean? Is that possible? No, no, no – Mommy and Daddy taught me that ‘love’ oppresses and imprisons people. It is Pleasure that conquers all things… But if that’s so, why aren’t I in that fucking bathroom with Claire, eating her cunt and letting her fist my ass? Why am I sitting here with all these ugly people listening to this bullshit? I mean, it can’t be true: I bet they don’t even believe it themselves. They’re all gonna be like Rob and Eva – sitting here listening to God-shit, then the moment they’re out the door they’ll be fucking the first ass which comes their way…”

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.

From the other side of the toilet door, Alison could hear Claire building up to her orgasm: “Oh yeah, oh fuck,” she was muttering, “yeah, rub that fucking clit, baby – I wanna fucking come!” But for a moment Alison ignored her, intrigued anew by the words she was hearing from Father Ambrose: “‘A bride adorned’! Not a bride oppressed or violated, but ‘adorned’! What the fuck…?”

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying: See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.

And then something strange happened: Alison did not know how or why, but she felt compelled to kneel. She was, for the first time in her life, not kneeling to suck a guy’s dick – but kneeling for something unutterably rich and strange. She felt compelled to worship, to adore something – or Someone – greater than herself, so much greater, in fact, that she could not even attempt to seduce Him. And yet He loved her. He offered her not Pleasure, but victory through His Love. With Him she would not need to keep eating every new cunt, or fucking every new dick that came her way, for He was adorning her as His bride. Suddenly, Alison thought, it was as if a veil had fallen from her eyes. All the ‘marriage’-talk, the ‘love’-talk, even the ‘fuck’-talk – these things were just signs, shadows, typoi, signposts to the eternal Love which now beckoned to her from Beyond.

And the one who was seated on the throne said: See, I am making all things new. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life. Those who conquer will inherit these things, and I will be their God and they will be my children.

Behind the toilet door, Claire was coming – loud and noisy and obscene: “OH YEAH, FUUUUUUUCK!” But Alison barely noticed, for all she could hear was the voice calling to her:

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

“But how?” demanded Alison in the silent but screeching turmoil of her heart. “Fucking how? I’m a fucker, goddammit! I’m a child of the Enlightenment, destined to fuck and be fucked! How can I come to You?!”

No one can serve two masters.
Either you will hate the one and love the other,
or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other.

And so Alison, still on her knees, wept desperately – for she knew she must choose. Claire tiptoed back into the chapel and slid into the pew next to Alison. She giggled as she held three fingers of her right hand up to Alison’s nose. Alison smelt cunt – and it was beautiful: pungent, full-bodied, sweet – and irresistible. In an instant Alison wanted nothing more than to eat hot cunt again, to taste its savour, to coat her face with it so that everything tasted and stank of cunt. She felt her own pussy tingling and juicing up, and her slender hand could not resist moving down to her crotch. Even as the old man’s coffin was being borne slowly down the aisle, and Eva was shaking with grief and weeping into her brother’s shoulder, and Father Ambrose was intoning, “May the chorus of angels lead you into paradise,” Alison was maniacally licking Claire’s fingers, sucking them deep into her mouth to savour her heavenly, hellish taste, as she rubbed desperately at her own twat through her clothes.

Claire chuckled wickedly.

“No one can serve two masters,” Alison whispered to herself. Her spirit cleft in two, she broke down in tears as she ran out of the chapel, down the corridor, and into the bathroom. She plunged into the first cubicle she could find, yanked her jeans down and had four fingers up her cunt even before her buttocks had touched the toilet seat. “OH GOD, OH FUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!” she howled, for it was but a second before she was coming, her lust, fear, yearning and humiliation boiling over into a shattering, painful orgasm which swept through her entire body, leaving her breathless and whimpering, as the tears continued to pour down her face, and her juices down her thighs and onto the toilet seat.

Claire did not follow, but sat silently in the chapel as the funeral party slowly filed out, a knowing and satisfied smile on her face.

~

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

“How long has it been since your last Confession?” replied Father Ambrose Deconceicao. He had a warm, gentle voice, with a slight Indian lilt to it.

“Oh, it depends how you look at it. I… I’ve been to Confession a couple of times very recently – but in a normal church – I mean, you know, Wankminster Abbey? I don’t know if that counts. I guess your way will be a bit different.”

“Yes, a bit different. But we can only ever do our best.”

“Well, I’m so confused, Father. I’ve always been brought up to believe in the Enlightenment, in Pleasure, in fu–… I mean, in, you know… I’m at the RAF, you know, the Royal Academy of…”

“And do you really not believe in it anymore?”

“Well, I don’t know, Father. A lot of things have happened recently to shake my faith in the Enlightenment, and in, you know, fucking and all that – sorry, am I allowed to say that word here? I don’t know what else to call it…”

“That’s all right, sister, you can use that word – do continue.” Father Ambrose smiled indulgently.

“Well, and I heard what you said today, about the love of God, and being conquerors, and being adorned like a bride, and about there being no more mourning and crying and pain, and – oh God, Father, I so want that. But then you said that no one can serve two masters at once, and surely that means I have no hope, because how on earth can I follow the way of Love whilst living in the world out there, which is all about Pleasure and fucking and – oh sorry…”

“You don’t need to keep apologising.” Father Ambrose smiled again. “Yes, it is hard living in the world while trying not to be of the world. And we will often fail.”

“Yes, but Fucker – I mean, Father – surely that’s not really honest? I mean, I know some members of your congregation, who talk a lot about ‘Love’ and ‘God’ and stuff – but as soon as they’re out the door, they’re fucking around as much as anyone else. Doesn’t all this God-talk just make us hypocrites?”

“That’s a good point, sister,” replied Father Ambrose as he fetched a small Bible from the pocket of his cassock. Let me read you something written by a man who wrestled with exactly that question:

I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do… For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out… What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?

“Do you know what that man’s answer was? He wrote:

Thanks be to God, who delivers me!

“Now – did that man seem content with the way he was? No – but that very fact is the cornerstone of leading an honest existence. It is of course what the world hates us for, calls us hypocrite for. In the eyes of the so-called Enlightened world we will always be hypocrites, because we do not live up to our own ideals. But in the eyes of God who loves us, that is what makes us worth giving His life for.”

“But all these rules, all these things your God won’t let us do – you know, no fucking around and everything. How can anyone be happy with that? Why can’t we be free?”

Father Ambrose smiled broadly. “But are you free, sister? I saw you running off into the toilets at the end of the service – and if you will forgive me, I could not avoid hearing what you were doing there. What that a free choice? Could you genuinely have chosen otherwise? Or are you enslaved to the Pleasure you so ardently seek?”

Alison sat in silence, trembling and silent – for she knew it was true. The priest continued: “Do not be afraid, sister. You may fail many times in Love – but you will never fail to be Loved.”

Alison paused, then took a deep breath, before asking, “Should I listen to a man who says he loves me?”

“Ah, that’s a difficult one. Some say ‘love’ a lot but mean it little. But

this is love:
not that we loved God, but that he loved us
and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.

“The true Lover gives Himself up for the one he Loves. What has your lover given up for you?”

Alison thought, and knew – but did not answer.

~

“Where the fuck did you go, Al?” Claire was sitting on the bench outside 38B Tottenham Cunt Road, quietly dildoing her pussy as she waited for Alison to reappear. There was a worried frown on her face as Alison gently shut the green door behind her: clearly, for all the pleasuring she had been giving herself, Claire remained disquieted.

“Oh, I was just having a little chat with Father Ambrose,” said Alison nervously, as she too sat down on the bench.

“What, the guy in the pyjamas?” said Claire. “What were you talking about?”

“Love,” said Alison simply. She looked at her feet.

“Oh Jesus Christ, Alison, won’t you ever give up on that bullshit? You heard that service today – it’s all shit from top to bottom: fresh, stinking shit straight from a horse’s butt into your face! And you’re just eating it up and saying ‘more, more!’ I know what you really liked best in that service – tasting my cunt-slime and then jerking off in the bathroom! Here, have some more!” said Claire, removing her dildo from her pussy and waving the glistening pungent phallus in Alison’s face.

“Oh Claire, no, no, you don’t understand… I love your cunt, I do, bestest slut. But I’m just trying to keep an open mind. Remember, you’re normally the one telling me to stay calm! Here…” She affectionately slid the dildo back into Claire’s pussy.

But Claire was not staying calm. “It’s all about Rob, isn’t it? I saw you yesterday after you came down from his bedroom. What did he say to you – apart from fuck your hot ass again? Is he still ‘in love’?” Claire pronounced the word with undisguised contempt. “Does he want you to marry him and go off to fucking Africa and have babies with him? Alison, can’t you see? One minute he’s fucking your ass, or fucking my throat, or fucking his little sister’s face – and the next minute he’s all ‘God is love’ and ‘No, you can’t say “fuck” here’ and ‘Will you marry me?’! This man is a total fucking hypocrite, and he is determined to control you!”

Tears were welling in Claire’s eyes. “Please Alison, listen to sense: it’s just like you were saying a few days ago. It’ll be fine for him: he’ll persuade you, with the help of that Fucker Ambrose, that you’re ‘in love’, but then he’ll fucking dump you – and tell you it’s fucking God’s will or something. Please, Alison, I beg of you – don’t be taken in…!” Claire’s voice began to crack. She slid off the bench and knelt on the pavement in front of Alison, hands clasped, looking up into her eyes in anguished imploration.

“Aw fuuuck, baby,” said Alison tenderly, stroking Claire’s long shimmering hair and kissing her face gently. “Don’t cry. Why cry for me? Nothing’s gonna hurt you.”

“I’m not worried for me, Alison, but I’m worried for you – because I care about you, Al, I do, I really… I really…” Claire hesitated, despair etched on her face, tears rolling down her cheeks – before blurting out, “GODDAMMIT, ALISON, I LOVE YOU!” and then dissolving into floods of tears.

Alison drew breath in shock – but having spoken the unspeakable, Claire could not stop: “I love you, Al. I love you so much, I don’t want to see you get hurt, I don’t want to lose you. I’m so sorry, I know it’s all wrong, and I know I’m a total hypocrite – but I fucking love you. Please don’t shut me out, I can’t live without you!” Her painful sobs rent the air and echoed across Tottenham Cunt Road.

Some passers-by stopped, shocked by the words they were hearing, and staring in horror at Claire, whose face was now pressed into her beloved’s lap as she continued to whine, “I love you… I love you…” The dildo slipped slowly out of Claire’s cunt and clunked gently onto the pavement.

“Are you all right, young lady?” enquired a gentleman in a business suit – not to the weeping Claire, but to Alison, who sat in bewilderment on the bench, looking down at the beautiful blonde now wailing at her feet.

“I’m okay, thank you,” Alison laughed nervously. “Please don’t worry – my friend sometimes gets a bit, uh, overwrought…” Inside, however, she was trembling in terror, neither daring to touch Claire, nor stroke her hair, nor kiss her better, nor even mutter a soothing “fuuuck”.

Claire kept her face buried in Alison’s lap as her sobs gradually subsided, and the scandalised crowd dispersed.

Eventually, slowly, Claire knelt up and looked around, red-eyed. Alone, she wiped the tears and snot off her own face. “I guess I’ve fucked up, huh?” she said.

Alison said nothing, but pushed Claire away, stood up, and walked briskly away up Tottenham Cunt Road without a backward glance.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
MAKING LOVE

Alison trudged despondently homeward-bound up Tottenham Cunt Road. She was numb, bewildered, livid. “FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!” she screamed. There was no reaction from any passers-by, for whom the word, in Enlightened Europe of the twenty-first century, was mere background noise. “WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, CLAIRE?” Alison shouted into the middle-distance. “WHAT RIGHT DO YOU HAVE TO FUCKING…” – she quietened her voice now, so as not to cause public offense – “… ‘love’ me? What the fuck does that mean anyway? Claire, who says that ‘“love” is one huge pile of stinking horseshit’ – what the fuck are you playing at now? How do I deal with two people who fucking ‘love’ me – WHEN I STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IT MEANS?” she screamed. “And, oh God, how can I ever tell Mommy and Daddy about this?!”

Indignant and traumatised, her presumptions shattered, her worldview in tatters, her best friendship apparently ruined, Alison marched across the park towards Fuckers’ Hall, kicking at flower beds and snarling at passers-by. It was late Sunday afternoon, and all the usual social and sexual activity, in which she normally delighted so, was taking place all around her. “Fucking cunts,” she cursed, glancing at a couple who were quietly ass-fucking on their picnic rug on the grass, “do they have to worry about ‘love’? No! They’re just fucking ass! And look –” she grumbled to herself, as she passed by a pretty young lady taking her girlfriend’s fist in her pussy, “do you think that bitch ‘loves’ her? No, she’s just fucking fisting her twat – ‘coz it’s fucking hot! So why’s everybody suddenly fucking ‘falling in love’? It’s one thing for that dickhead Rob to tell me he loves me… but now even Claire – sexy, well brought-up Claire, mega-fuckslut Claire – is ‘in love’ – in love with me?! Jesus Christ, FUCKING SHIT-BRAIN!!!”

In the distance, a group of teenagers were playing a circle-fucking game on the grass, as they chanted noisily:

‘Ickory, dickory, dock,
This bitch was sucking my cock.
The clock struck one,
So I fucked her cunn,
‘Ickory, dickory, dock.

Alison was in no mood to watch. She averted her head, and trudged on.

‘Ickory, dickory, dock,
This bitch was sucking my cock.
The clock struck two,
So I dumped my goo,
‘Ickory, dickory, dock.

“Kids…” Alison thought to herself, “Naïve, foolish, inexperienced kids. They think fucking will make them happy – but they don’t know what the real world is like. Wait till they have to deal with ‘love’…”

‘Ickory, dickory, dock,
This bitch was sucking my cock.
The clock struck three,
I needed a pee,
‘Ickory, dickory, dock.

“‘Ey!” Alison heard a voice calling from the direction of the circle game. She ignored it steadfastly: the last thing she wanted was to talk to anyone.

‘Ickory, dickory, dock,
This bitch was sucking my cock.
The clock struck four,
So I fucked the whore,
‘Ickory, dickory, dock.

“Alison! Alison Bates! Lick m’ pussy!” She heard the footsteps of someone running after her.

“Oh shit,” Alison thought to herself, as she turned to see who was calling. It was the ass-fucking silver-blonde she had met before, her bottom half naked, a trickle of lube leaking down her thigh, wearing a silver bikini top.

“Alison, remember me?” said the girl, with an enthusiastic grin on her face. “I’m Riley – remember? I met you last week ‘ere in the park. I wanna be a fucker, like you. I love the stuff you do: you’re so fuckin’ amazin’!”

Alison groaned. “Oh fuck, girl, will you fucking leave me alone?! I’m not in the mood, okay?”

Riley looked disappointed, but did not give up. “But… Can ya give me some advice? You’re at the RAF, aren’tcha? ‘Ow do I get in there? Can ya ‘elp me?”

Alison’s temper cracked. “Riley, let me tell you: being a fucker is shit! Everyone at the RAF is full of shit! Being a fucker makes people vindictive and dishonest! I was attacked by a fucker! My friend’s dad was killed by a fucker! Fuckers are manipulative, murderous liars! And all the gaping asshole in the world won’t protect you from all that shit! And, what’s more, since starting at the RAF, two people have declared ‘love’ to me! Do you know what that does to a girl? It fucks you up! It’s fucked me up! Now it’s fucking my friends up! You’re far safer, and you’ll be far happier, as a fucking shop assistant, or a fucking warehouse stacker, or sitting behind a fucking till in Titsco’s or Shitbury’s! Don’t make my mistake: it’s not fucking worth it! It’s… IT’S FUCKING SHIT!!!” Alison could stand it no longer: she broke down in tears and ran, howling, away across the park towards Fuckers’ Hall, leaving Riley, half-naked and bewildered, standing alone, lube still tricking down her thigh.

~

It was some hours before Claire returned to Fuckers’ Hall. Alison was sitting at her desk, desperately trying to concentrate on Twentieth-Century “Porn”: A History, vol. I – but found her mind instead continuously wandering in rage and self-pity. “Fucking bitch,” she repeated to herself self-righteously. She heard Claire’s footsteps in the corridor, heard her turn her key in her lock, and enter her own room. A minute later, she heard her leave her room, walk slowly to Alison’s door, and knock. Claire did not wait to be invited in, but quietly entered, shutting the door gently behind her. She was completely naked, and wordlessly sat down on Alison’s bed, spreading her legs wide to display her pussy.

“Fuck me, baby, please,” Claire whined.

“How the fuck can you say that to me now?” Alison replied coldly, deliberately avoiding looking at Claire’s crotch, but fixing her eyes with a steely glare.

Claire spread her cunt-lips open with two fingers. “I’m sorry, baby, sweet cunt, I’m so sorry – I didn’t know what I was saying. I was just desperate and scared.”

“And jealous?” riposted Alison – who was keeping all her clothes, and her jacket, and her shoes, firmly on. Claire’s pink fuck-flesh glistened temptingly: Alison couldn’t help but look.

“Yeah, of course I was jealous. I was scared, baby, I was scared you were going to leave me to go off with Rob and the God-freaks. And yeah, I don’t want to lose you, cunt-pie. If that makes me jealous, then I guess I’m jealous. But doesn’t that mean… I love you…?” Claire started to gently rub her cunt-lips, making them squish and squelch against her fingers.

Alison thought. “No,” she said firmly. ‘The true lover gives himself up for the one he loves.’ That’s what Father Ambrose said. If all you want is to hold onto me, because you can’t stand being without me – then that’s not real love. Maybe it calls itself ‘love’ – but that’s exactly the sort of ‘love’ the Enlightenment came to stamp out: love which is jealous, possessive, abusive, selfish.”

“Oh baby, really – am I being abusive and selfish?” scoffed Claire. “Just because I love it when you kiss me… when you fuck me?” Claire spread her cunt-lips wider, so Alison could see more of her hot pink juicy folds – inviting, beckoning, seducing her in. “I know you like my cunt. Is my cunt ‘abusive’? Is my cunt ‘selfish’? And is it so bad if my cunt is ‘possessive’? I know you like the taste, the smell, the feel of all that warm wet fuck-juice on your tongue, on your lips, on your face. Here, have a good sniff,” Claire said, holding up two glistening fingers towards Alison’s face.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” Alison exploded. “Can’t you fucking think about anything else for a change, you FUCKING CUNT-BRAIN?!”

“Oh, that’s the pot calling the kettle black!” Claire scoffed, removing her sticky fingers from Alison’s face. “Last time you called me ‘cunt-brain’ we were ogling two hot nurses’ pussies, and you were about to go off and get double-fucked in the ass! You’re no fucking nun, Miss Alison Assfuck Bates!”

“Okay – so neither of us is a fucking nun! But I don’t go around declaring ‘love’ to people when it’s nothing but a fake!”

“Yeah, but you do go around listening to bullshit stories about a fake ‘God’ who ‘loves’ you! Maybe my ‘love’ for you isn’t perfect and eternal like your God’s – but at least it actually fucking exists!”

Alison paused, aggrieved. Claire paused her diatribe too, shuffling forward to stroke Alison’s face and look into her eyes. More softly now, she said, “You make me happy, Al. You make me smile, you lift my spirits, you delight me. When I am with you, I feel like nothing can go wrong. And the thought of being without you scares me to death. If that’s not ‘love’, then fuck ‘love’! Goddammit, Al, I’m not an idealist like you. I don’t want to be the greatest fucker in the world – but nor am I interested in being a ‘conqueror through him who loved us’, or a ‘bride coming down from heaven’ or whatever the fuck that man was going on about. I just want to be happy, have fun, and fuck a few people along the way.” The aroma of pussy drifted up Alison’s nostrils from Claire’s glistening fingers, now stroking her hair.

“Hey, were you actually listening to the funeral service?” snorted Alison. “I thought you were in the bathroom jacking off!”

“I was!” Claire giggled. “But they had a PA system, with speakers in the fucking toilets! So I had to listen to all that shit whilst rubbing my cunt!”

Alison chuckled loudly, and looked again at her friend. Claire, she thought to herself, was still very beautiful, and very funny, and disarmingly honest – and so sexy. Alison took a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right, babe. Of course, it’s fine just to want to have fun and fuck. You’re probably wiser than me: you’ll certainly be happier in the long run. I’m sorry – it’s just that the ‘L-word’ touches a few raw nerves for me.”

“That’s okay, pussy-pie. I’m sorry if I scared you: it was just the only thing I could think of to say at the time which might make you stop and think. I was just scared of losing you…” Claire paused. “Now, come on, let’s fuck – it’ll make us both feel better.”

“Uh, okay, yeah, let’s. What shall we do? You want me to fist your cunt, or stick some vegetables up your ass, or piss on your tits, or what?”

“Um, no… could you…” Claire paused.

“What?”

“Could you just…” Claire paused again.

“Fucking what?”

“Maybe just start by holding me? Just give me a hug?”

“Uh… okay… if you like. But… isn’t that a bit boring for a total slut like you?”

Except that it wasn’t boring. For, as soon as Alison disrobed and slid her naked body on top of Claire’s, she noticed that something had changed. Before now, they had always fucked wild, they had talked dirty, they had called each other “slut” and “whore” and “bitch”, they had rammed fingers, fists and dildos deep into each other’s gaping orifices – and they had screamed obscenities at each other for the sheer hedonistic pleasure of it. This time, though – and at first Alison could barely work out why – they wanted nothing more than to hold each other close, quietly, nipples tickling, breasts squashing, softly nibbling each other’s lips and cheeks and necks, stroking each other’s hair, and running delicate fingers up and down each other’s young, smooth, warm bodies. Alison held Claire closer: she felt their mounds press together, felt their clits rub gently, felt their nectar smear, blend and lubricate their embrace. They were not fucking now – at least, not like “RAF fucking”, not the way Professor Cuntslicker taught them – rather, they were lingering, wallowing in each other’s presence, gently grinding clit against clit, making gentle tingles run up and down each other’s bodies. Alison gazed deep into Claire’s beautiful green eyes, and she felt nothing but delight. Claire’s body was soft, clement, self-giving. It was as if nothing need be said, because somehow, purged now of the harsh words they had exchanged, relieved of all the welling unspoken resentments and fears, they felt themselves transformed, felt themselves… one flesh. Claire wrapped her legs around Alison, pulling her yet closer and gently squeezing her buttocks with her feet. Together, they revelled in the sensation of their tenderly enfolded bodies, the emollient slip-slide of vulvas squidging, flaring, kissing, melding. They came again and again, their ecstasy understated, almost silent – but lodged deeper in their hearts than anything they had ever known.

“Oh God, Claire, this is… this is just like being in love!” Alison moaned into Claire’s soft lips.

“Is it really? I wasn’t sure… I didn’t dare say…” Claire kissed Alison tenderly on her face.

“I bet this is what people used to call ‘making love’…” ventured Alison.

“‘Making love’? What the fuck’s that?” Claire raised an eyebrow, as she opened her legs and let them drop to the bed.

“I read about it in The Anatomy of Fucking by Tatiana Titfukskaya,” said Alison, sitting up. “In the olden days, people used to think that fucking was an expression of love.”

“What? That’s freaky,” Claire grimaced. “I mean, that’s perverted, that is!”

“Well maybe, but – think about it: how did you feel just now? I mean, that wasn’t a textbook fuck, was it? No anal, no dildos, no dirty talk or anything – we weren’t fucking the normal way, were we? It was… different… I mean, Cunts would have hated it…”

“No shit, can you imagine?” Claire did another of her Cunts impressions, sticking out her chest to imitate the Professor’s huge tits: “‘Stop holding each other so fucking close, girls! I wanna see some cunt, I wanna see some tit! I wanna hear some fuck-talk! What about your audience? They’re gonna get so fucking bored!’”

Alison cackled. But then Claire paused, looked up at the ceiling, and thought hard. “You mean… you mean that’s why that was so amazing just now…? We were – what did you call it – ‘doing love’?”

“Making love,” corrected Alison, as she lay down on her side to affectionately stroke Claire’s hair. “Yeah, apparently in pre-Enlightenment times they mainly liked to fuck in private – it was considered bad form to fuck for an audience.”

“Fucking weird, if you ask me,” replied Claire. “I mean, selfish, don’t you think, to keep a good fuck to yourself?”

“I’ve seen my Mommy and Daddy fuck like that… like this… all close and cuddly, like no one else in the world matters. That must be ‘love’ – even though no one these days dares to admit it. Haven’t you seen it with your parents?”

Claire thought for while. “No… I don’t think my parents love each other. They just fuck.”

Claire and Alison stared into each other’s faces, and then, without a word, kissed deeply, their tongues sliding effortlessly into each other’s mouths, entangling, exploring, tasting, adoring…

Eventually their lips pulled gently apart, and once more they were gazing into each other’s bright eyes. “I love you,” they both said simultaneously. And they laughed with joy.

“So…” ventured Claire, tentatively, “do we tell people we’re in love? Is that what people do?”

“You must be fucking joking, Claire! What we’re doing is illegal – just like that Bible you confiscated from me. We’d get kicked out of the RAF – and probably disowned by our parents! No fucking way!”

“It’s gonna be hard keeping a secret, though.”

“You should’ve fucking thought about that before seducing me then, shouldn’t you?” Alison laughed. “No, this has got to be our secret… I mean, Andy and Anna must have done it for years, I wonder what it is was like for them…”

“We could tell your God-freaks, though, couldn’t we? Aren’t they all hot on love and stuff? Hey, maybe your guy in the pyjamas could marry us!”

“Claire, you are a total shit-brain! Those guys are fucking Catholics! They don’t let girls marry girls!”

“Why not?” asked Claire, puzzled. “I thought they liked people to marry for love or something. Isn’t that what Rob wanted you to do?”

“Yeah, but…” Suddenly a look of alarm passed over Alison’s face. “Oh fuck!” she cursed.

“What?”

“Oh shit – hey look, I’ve just realised something – I hope it’s not too late – I need to go back to the park and find this girl I met. Will you come with me? I owe her an apology.”

“An apology – for what?”

“I’ll explain later, if we don’t find her. Quick, let’s go. It’s getting late. I hope they’re still there…”

~

“Riley! Hey, Riley!” The sun was nearly setting by the time Alison and Claire found Riley and her friends again. They were winding up their circle games, singing another old favourite:

Cock-a-doodle-do!
My dame will fuck wiv you
While master fiddles ‘is fiddlin’-stick,
She’ll gape ‘er arse at you!

And there, lying at the centre of the circle, was Riley, her long silver-blonde hair splayed out over the grass, holding her buttocks high while the other girls in the group gathered around, taking turns to jerk the boys’ cocks off into her asshole. Alison recognised some of them – including buxom blonde Belle, Amber with the short black bob and red lips, and exuberant brunette Teresa who was squealing with glee as she stroked her friend Harry’s cock.

“Hey, Riley, eat my cunt – Riley!” called Alison again as she and Claire approached. Riley froze in alarm. “Riley, I’m really sorry I was such a shit to you earlier on. I was in a bad way. Can we talk? I want to help you.”

Some of the boys had clearly already shot their loads – for there was cum splattered across Riley’s buttocks and asshole and into her gape. “And what a gape!” thought Alison to herself: it was as she remembered – wide and perfectly circular, with a smooth quivering rim into which cum was slowly dribbling, making it glisten invitingly. Her reddish-brown rectal cauldron glowed gently with the reflected light of the late evening sun. “Oh fuck, that’s so beautiful!” said Alison aloud. Riley smiled gleefully.

“‘Ey, guys, sorry,” said Riley to her friends, “I gotta talk to this girl. Why don’tcha all just finish off wivout me?” Riley started to lower her buttocks toward the ground.

“No, no, Riley, don’t stop – you’re so amazing,” Alison remonstrated, before turning to her young friends and saying, “Keep jerking off, guys, fill her ass up! Don’t let us stop you. Riley, listen – I’m at Fuckers’ Hall: you know where that is?” Riley nodded. “Come and find me there – one of these weekends, maybe? I wanna talk to you, I really do, and I wanna help you. And I’m really sorry about how I talked to you earlier. Okay?” Riley grinned and gave Alison the thumbs-up. Alison and Claire waved, turned and slowly walked away, their arms wrapped around each other as, behind them, the boys continued to fire volley after volley of hot cum into Riley’s gaping rectum, as their girlfriends sang:

Cock a doodle do!
My dame will gape at you
While fucksluts fiddle your fiddlin’-sticks
And beat your meat for you!

“That was really kind of you, Alison,” said Claire. She paused, then added, “I love you, babe.”

“I love you too,” said Alison. “And that’s our little secret. Kiss me.” Their arms and tongues entangled lovingly, and they slid to the ground, rolling over and over in a passionate embrace on the warm grass. Alison ended up on top, gazing down at Claire, whose hair splayed out over the ground like a sunburst.

As they kissed, they heard Riley calling, from not more than fifty yards away, “Oh yeah, guys, fill up me gapin’ shit-‘ole wiv all your slimy cum – that’s so fuckin’ good!”

“She sounds just like you!” giggled Claire, as her tongue explored between Alison’s warm lips.

“Better…” admitted Alison ruefully.

“‘Ey, girls, are ya ready for dinner?” Riley was now calling to her female companions.

“Hey, you wanna eat some ass-cum?” Alison asked Claire.

“Nah. I’d rather stay here and be kissed by you.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:
BUTT-PLUGS AND FISTY-CUNTS

Dr Hildegard Fotzenficker had had a hard couple of weeks. “Fucking overagers, fucking Undesirables, fucking escapees – fuck the whole fucking lot of them!” she grumbled to herself, as she sat at her large oak desk in her office at the Princess Asshole Hospice. “To ruin that whole funeral party – and to force me to implement Emergency Measure Number Six – ungrateful fucking fool! He could have gone in the ecstasy of pleasure if he had been more co-operative. As it is, he died in pain, in a filthy smear of blood on the cold floor. Stupid wretch…”

To make matters worse, now the Hospice was facing an investigation by the CQC (Cunt Quality Commission). “Fucking investigation…” muttered Hildegard. “They’d do better to investigate how that fucking Undesirable got into the country in the first place… But they won’t, will they, because they’re all namby-pamby fucking woke PC do-gooders… Shit, what’s become of the Enlightenment?!”

~

Chad Halloway had not been having a good couple of weeks either – but he lacked Hildegard’s unassailable arrogance. Since that unfortunate day at the hospice, he had not been allowed back to the RAF – also pending investigation. He was feeling scared, humiliated, and – quite unusually for him – intermittently remorseful. Suspension from college had forced him to spend more time with himself than he had ever enjoyed doing. His habit was usually to buttress his fragile self-esteem by bullying others; but now, without that option open to him, he was finding his congenital anger turned inwards – and it was not a pleasant experience. “Why the fuck,” he said to himself, “do I always get things wrong? Why do I always fuck up? Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!” he shouted into the middle-distance of his North Kuntington bedsit. But he knew no one was listening.

All these dispiriting thoughts passed through Chad’s mind, as he sat facing the wrong way on the toilet seat, stroking his eight and a half inches. He had not had a fuck in a fortnight. Not that he couldn’t have gone out and picked someone up: picking up girls in London was never difficult, and – this being a highly Enlightened city – they were almost always happy to be discarded immediately afterwards. But this time, something was different – and Chad just didn’t know why. For as he sat, massaging his throbbing glans with the thumb and two fingers of one hand, palm wrapped around the thick shaft, whilst stroking his balls with the other hand, his mind was filled with images not merely of “generic cunt” (as he usually called it) – but of one person in particular. He closed his eyes, better to feel the boiling pleasure rising through his stiff shaft – and into that strange dark sparkly space behind his eyelids there swam, unbidden, images of a glistening ebony pussy, its lips gently parting to reveal the pink haven inside; a pair of luscious tits, their wide brown areolas pierced with shining silver barbells; that head of wild loose afro hair, which jiggled as its owner bounced up and down on his shaft; but, more than anything, that gorgeous face – dark but luminescent, delicate yet luscious, those full wipe lips smiling, pouting, parting, panting…

“Oh fuck,” groaned Chad, as his cock exploded. He watched each successive jet of semen squirt downwards, splash, and suspend itself on contact with cold water – thick, gloopy, off-white. By habit he silently counted “one, two, three, four… five… six…” – the physical gratification of each exquisite pulse of his shaft briefly effacing, but not banishing, the pain he felt in his heart. “How fucking pathetic you are, Chad Halloway…” he muttered, as his pleasure subsided. “If you were able to be just a bit less of a dickhead you might now be fucking her hot pussy instead of wanking on the bog…”

Chad heard an envelope drop through his letterbox. “Oh shit: another summons, another interrogation,” he groaned as, wiping his cock clean, he flushed away the whirlpool mixture of toilet-paper and semen. “What more do they expect me to say? I’ve said it all: I was behaving like a shit, I always behave like a shit… Just fucking expel me, if that’s what you want!” He thought for a moment, then he added despondently, “After all, no one will fucking miss me…”

But it was not another summons from the RAF. It was a short hand-written note:

Dear Mr Halloway,

I was very impressed with you when you visited us the other day. I would like to meet you. Please could you come for an audition on Tuesday 1^st November at 10.00 a.m.

Kind regards,

Dr Hildegard Fotzenficker
            Director
            Princess Asshole Hospice
            567B Oxfuck Street, Marble Arse, London

“Fuck!” exclaimed Chad.

~

Monday, 31^st October, 2050

Dear Mommy,

Claire says hello.

“‘Claire says hello’? Is that all you’re gonna fucking say?” complained Claire. She was dressed in a flowing see-through red-and-black lace dress with a cape, and wearing a set of false fangs in her mouth.

“Well, what the fuck do you expect me to say? ‘Claire, who is passionately in love with me, and wants to bear your grandchildren, craves your permission for my hand in marriage’? Do you want my dad to come down here and kill us both?!”

“Oh, okay, never mind, ‘says hello’ is probably safer,” admitted Claire, as she applied deep red lipstick to her lips. “Oh fuck, I keep getting lipstick on my fangs.”

Alison continued:

Claire says hello. We get on so well, she’s pretty much moved into my room with me now. It’s means we can fuck each other as much as we want, without having to go through the hassle of walking down the corridor to each other’s rooms!

“Ha ha! Fucking liar!” laughed Claire, reaching around to squeeze Alison’s tits affectionately.

“No, no. I never lie to my Mommy. It’s just… I don’t have to tell her everything all at once, do I? And besides, what would your mom and dad say if you told them you’d fallen in love?”

“Probably fucking kill me… But hey, it’s getting late – you’d better get your habit on, we gotta go!”

Anyway, I’ll pause now, as we’re running late. Sorry! Tonight is Hallowe’en, and Darren and Joe are organising a fancy-dress party. I’m going as a nun, and Claire is going as a vampire.

I’ll finish this tomorrow – cunty-promise!

Al

~

It was All Saints Day, and Hildegard Fotzenficker sat at her desk, dressed in her lab coat, trawling through Cunt Quality Commission Health and Safety Protocol Numbers 69B-81C (“Consent for Culling Undesirables [fuckless]”, version 3.a) – and swearing loudly to herself. “Fucking bureaucrats!” she cursed. “Do they have any idea what it’s like running an operation like this?! Why do I have to gain ‘consent’ to cull an Undesirable: they’re fucking Undesirable, aren’t they?!”

Happily, she was interrupted by a knock, and the office door opening. “He’s here, Doctor,” said Nurse Datchet – who was dressed today not as a nurse but as a central European farm girl, wearing a red-and-white lace-edged dirndl which squeezed her large tits together, her nipples just visible through the lace, and her hair in two long side braids which dangled down her chest.

“Bring him in, Dolores!” called Hildegard, with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Into the room, escorted by Dolores Datchet, walked a rather nervous Chad Halloway.

“Ah, Mister Halloway!” Hildegard put on her best smile. “I am very pleased to see you again. Eat my cunt.”

There were very few people in life Chad had ever been intimidated by – but even he was somewhat anxious about being summoned to the office of a woman who had recently killed the father of a fellow-student in cold blood. “Suck my cock, ma’am. Uh, let me say at the outset, Doctor, how very sorry I am for my behaviour here the other day.” There were, in point of fact, very few people Chad had ever apologised to in his life before – but, despite his best efforts at convincing himself otherwise, he knew he had behaved like a shit.

“Ach, don’t worry about that. A minor matter. No, Chad, I have asked you to come because I was very impressed with you the other day. Very impressed indeed.” Hildegard got up, walked around to Chad, and groped his crotch. “Eight inches?” she asked.

“Uh, well, eight and a half on a good day, ma’am,” replied Chad, regaining some of his customary swagger as his cock swelled. Meanwhile, Dolores walked over to Hildegard’s desk and sat on top of it, pulling her skirt up just enough to display her cunt, which was partly shaven, but topped by a neatly trimmed red-brown bush.

“Now, I gather,” continued Hildegard, “that you may be in the process of being expelled from the RAF – pending investigation? It appears that the Academy has some objection to students being gratuitously violent…?

“Uh, yes, ma’am,” replied Chad, chastened – but also somewhat distracted by the sight of Nurse Datchet’s pussy peeping out from underneath her dirndl. “But I can explain it all, I promise you, it wasn’t my fault, I –”

“I am not interested, Chad,” interrupted Hildegard. “Take your trousers off.”

“Ma’am?”

“You heard me. Now.”

Chad did as he was told. His cock, thanks in no small part to the nurse’s ongoing gynaecological tease, stood erect, thick and strong – eight and half inches of hot, beautiful, throbbing meat poking proudly from his tall, handsome, muscular body. Both Hildegard and Nurse Datchet beamed in admiration.

“We are always looking for good specimens of meat here,” said Hildegard, reaching forward to stroke Chad’s cock, feeling it twitch in her palm. “As you may have heard me say, only the best physical types are suitable to be… a Final Fucker.” She smiled encouragingly.

Despite his trepidation, Chad suddenly felt flattered, and valued – and it was a nice feeling. “You mean I… Well, that would be an honour, ma’am! But surely you would want me to finish my NDF first?”

“Ach, what are pieces of paper to a true fucker?” said Hildegard, as she walked back behind her desk and sat down. No, I just need to see that you have what it takes. Fucking is a vocation: it is not something you can learn from books. I would like to offer you an apprenticeship here – to be reviewed in, say, six months. You see, to be a good Hospice Fucker, apart from having the right physical attributes – and you clearly have those – you have to have the right attitude, firstly to fucking, and secondly… to death. We are dealing with very important life-and-death matters here at Princess Asshole.”

“Uh… ma’am?” Despite his excitement, Chad was finding Hildegard a bit hard to follow. His attention was, frankly, distracted by Nurse Datchet, who had now hawked a large gob of saliva onto her exposed clit and was slowly rubbing it in, whilst whispering to herself in a high-pitched squeaky voice: “Ooh, pwetty cunt; pway wiv pwetty cunty, nursey-nursey…”

“You see,” Hildegard continued, “while the RAF claims to train students in Pleasure, it has a limited understanding of the word. Here at Princess Asshole we deal with people at the end of their lives, when social norms matter little any more. And we find that different people have very different ideas of Pleasure – some of them involving pain, humiliation, shame. We have to cater to all these manifestations. Last week we arranged the Final Fuck of a woman who wanted to die with her head forced down a toilet bowl and five men pissing on her head. The week before, there was a man who wanted to have his cock sucked by a vampiress while two others drank his blood. Would you deny any of these people their final wishes?” Hildegard’s eyes glinted with perverse delight.

Chad was beginning to feel rather uncomfortable. He was not much interested in sucking blood or pissing on people’s heads, and was finding Hildegard’s enthusiasm for such matters a bit unnerving. But Nurse Datchet’s pussy was very tempting – especially as she was now slowly fucking it with two slender fingers, whilst continuing to giggle and squeak, “Cunty-cunty, pwetty cunty; wooky sticky fingahs in me cunty-cunty…” Chad’s cock was throbbing desperately, and a thin strand of pre-cum dangled from his glans; but he was trying to be on best behaviour, and dared not touch. Indeed, he forced himself to tear his gaze away from the nurse’s crotch, look Hildegard in the face, and answer her question with a firm “No, ma’am, of course not.”

Hildegard seemed to be getting into her stride, and her voice was rising in pitch. “And then there is the whole business of culling – or shall we say, killing? Have you ever killed a man, Chad? Have you ever tried to?”

Chad gulped. His heart began to beat rather fast and, continuing to avert his eyes from Nurse Datchet’s pussy, his cock started to droop. “Ma’am, I have never killed a man before, no – but of course, if I were to have the privilege of working in a hospice such as yours, I would rise to the challenge, I’m sure. I mean, the Enlightenment depends upon culling the old and unfuckable, doesn’t it? And, as you said the other day, no one ever objects… except…” Chad’s sentence faded away, as his eyes were again drawn magnetically to Nurse Datchet, who was now sliding three fingers in and out of her shining cunt and whimpering under her breath, “Oooooh, fwee fingahs in vere now, pwetty cunty, vat’s so good, so fucky good…”

“Ah yes,” said Hildegard. “And there’s the rub, isn’t it? Because we do ever so occasionally have an Undesirable who hasn’t accepted Enlightenment wisdom, and who insists upon clinging onto his own worthless life, even if he is old and ugly. Would you be willing to cull someone who wasn’t being entirely… co-operative?”

“What, you mean, like happened that day?” said Chad, tearing his eyes away from Dolores Datchet’s crotch.

“Ach, do not jump to conclusions, Chad,” replied Hildegard, wagging her finger in admonition. “We too are ‘under investigation’, you know.” Nurse Datchet had moved on again: four digits were now squelching in and out of her glistening cunt, and she was just beginning to curl her thumb into the palm of her hand so it too could follow suit. “Cunty-cunty, fisty-cunty,” she warbled to herself, “shaww I stick my pwetty fisty in my squidgy cunty…?” Chad had always loved watching a pretty girl fist herself, and didn’t want to miss that exquisite moment when the nurse’s whole hand would disappear for the first time between her stretched-out fuck-lips. Consequently, he was finding it very hard – nay, impossible – to concentrate on his interviewer’s words.

Hildegard recognised this, and raised her voice. “But… hypothetically,” she insisted, “would you, if ordered, kill a black, or a half-breed, or an antediluvian religious believer, or any other deviant Undesirable subhuman freak?” Her voice continued to rise in pitch as she stood up behind her desk and pointed directly at Chad. “Would you, if ordered, point a gun at him and BLOW HIS FUCKING BRAINS OUT?!!!” Her eyes shone with demented ecstasy.

There was a long silence. Even cocksure arrogant Chad was thinking he had made a terrible mistake in coming here today, and he was feeling very scared and confused. He looked from Hildegard’s lunatic grin, to Nurse Datchet’s hand, now buried wrist-deep in her cunt, and back again. The substance of the doctor’s words was completely escaping him, though her face continued to tremble with sadistic imagination. Dolores Datchet pulled her hand slowly out of her pussy, so that Chad could watch her glistening pussy-lips stretch wide, leaving her pink fuck-tunnel gaping and her hand fragrant and glowing. “Heehee, squelchy pinky cunty all gapey wiv me fisty,” she giggled, smiling at him seductively and licking her red lips. “You wanna fucky pwetty cunty, wittle boy?”

Chad, despite his arrogance and his bullying temperament, was not utterly without morals, and he hesitated, his heart pounding with horror at Hildegard’s fervid, deranged monologue. But the sight of Nurse Datchet’s hot gaping cunt, added to her filthy infantile babbling, was too much for him. He wasn’t sure which question he was answering – Hildegard’s “blow his fucking brains out?” or Dolores’ “fucky pretty cunty?” – but he replied, slowly: “It would be my pleasure, ma’am.”

“So glad to hear that, Chad,” said Hildegard firmly. “The job is yours.”

In an instant, Nurse Datchet closed her legs and pulled down her skirt. She pouted her lips at Chad. “Poor wittle boy wanna fuck my pwetty cunty? Maybe he can tomowwow, hee hee…” She got up, and swiftly left the room, leaving Chad standing alone, frustrated and bewildered, with a raging, dribbling erection, while Hildegard smirked inscrutably.

“Get your trousers on, please, Chad,” she said.

~

Tuesday, 1^st November, 2050

Dearest Mommy,

Well, the party last night was totally fucking! Harriet was dressed as a 1920s flapper, and was smoking her cigarettes with a really long holder, which looked sooo sexy! Eva came as some kind of voodoo priestess or something – you know, wearing a see-through grass skirt and draped with beads and shells and stuff. She had these mini-skulls dangling from her nipple piercings, which looked absolutely amazing!

Claire gave several fanged blowjobs. Bradley got so freaked out, ‘coz after he’d come all over her face she was giving him some post-cum head and then bit on a fake blood pellet hidden in her mouth, so it looked like she’d bitten his cock! He’d already jumped back and screamed before realising it was fake. But Claire looked so fucking amazing with his cum all over her face and “blood” dripping from her mouth: after that all the boys were wanting “vampire” blowjobs!

I guess you must have heard in the news about the old man that got shot at the Princess Asshole Hospice. I was there – and it was Eva’s dad. Now, I know what you’re thinking, that he was illegal and overage and all that – and I agree, of course. But Eva’s still really upset about it. So I wondered if you’d be okay to cheer her up by giving her one of Daddy’s Auto Plus Plugs – you know, the new model you were testing out…? She’s been telling me she wants to improve her gape, so I thought this would be the best way. Any chance you could persuade Daddy to send me one? This is for a really special cause. Pretty please with cum on top…?

Chad seems to have disappeared completely ever since that afternoon at the Hospice. Nobody’s quite sure why. Well, I think the lecturers know more than they’re letting on, and all sorts of rumours are flying around – but I really don’t know the truth of it.

Take a good assfuck from Daddy for me. Loads of fucks and kisses,

Al

~

Chad Halloway pulled his trousers back on and stood waiting in front of Hildegard, wondering, in the turmoil of his mind, what to say next. His erection was still raging and unsatisfied, and pre-cum continued to leak from his cock-head, turning the inside of his trousers into a viscous mess. Images of Dolores’ shining fist-gaped cunt filled his mind, miring him deep in unsatisfied lust. Never before had a girl teased him so much, and then just walked away.

Hildegard’s voice yanked him back to reality. “Did you like Nurse Datchet’s little show, Chad?” she asked softly, reading his mind again. “Such a shame she hasn’t yet let you fuck that pussy of hers, isn’t it?” There was the outline of a smirk on her face.

Chad didn’t know what to say. It seemed as if Hildegard understood him better than he did himself. He felt sure he was being manipulated – but he didn’t know how to fight it. So he nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”

“I think you have great potential, young man,” said the doctor, patting him on the shoulder. “And I think you are wasted on the RAF. Cuntslicker will never appreciate your true merits: she is too much of an idealist, does not understand the complexities of fucking ‘at the chalk-face’, so to speak. Here, if you work hard, we can make you a great Final Fucker. And maybe you could fuck Dolores too. Would you like that…?”

Again, Chad wasn’t sure exactly what question he was answering. But he said, “Yes Ma’am, thank you so much.”

“Excellent. Please come in tomorrow morning then, Chad, and we can begin your training. Lick my pussy.”

“Suck my cock, ma’am,” said Chad. Bewildered and perturbed, yet flattered, he paused, waiting for Hildegard to say something else – before realising that his interview was over. And so he nodded obsequiously and let himself out of the office, just as Dolores Datchet, now in her nurse’s uniform again, returned and shut the door in his face.

Hildegard and Dolores sat in the office, silently smirking at each other as they waited for Chad’s desultory footsteps in the corridor to fade away, before bursting out in raucous laughter.

“Ha ha! You were wonderful, my dear, wonderful!” clapped Hildegard with glee. “What a cruel tease! All that ‘pwetty fucky fisty cunty’ was sheer genius! And where ever did you get that voice from? He just couldn’t resist, could he?”

“And what bullshit tale were you just spinning, Hildy? ‘Here, if you work hard, we can make you great’?!”

“Ach, never mind, Dolores. He will find out the truth soon enough. But by then it will be too late, and we will have another dick-brained male in our grasp, to join our other three numbskull thugs. Job well done, my dear.”

“Do you think he has any idea what we really do here?”

“None at all. The bigger the cock, the smaller the brain. But soon he will be in too deep to escape. Now, come here and fist my cunt, there’s a good girl…”

~

Chad descended the stairs of the Princess Asshole Hospice, let himself out through the front double doors, walked a few yards, and turned at the first opportunity into a narrow alleyway. Mindlessly, he unzipped his fly, took out his damp slimy cock, fapped it back into an erection, steadied himself with one hand against a wall, and jerked off, painting seven or eight generous squirts of warm cum down the brickwork. “Oh fuck!” he groaned, images of Nurse Datchet’s hot, juicy, gaping, pink fuck-hole filling his mind, battling – and obscuring – those thoughts of Eva which had so recently dominated him.

“Oh fuck, what a pathetic wanker I have become… And what have I got myself into now?” he wondered. “But at least I’ve got a fucking job…”

“Nice dick, love,” croaked a passing bag lady.

Chad shook his cock as clean as best he could, watching as his cum continued to dribble down the wall, drowning an unsuspecting spider. “Oh, what the fuck…” he shrugged, as he zipped up and continued his weary way home…

~

“What is it?” asked Eva curiously. They were sitting in the RAF foyer, waiting for lectures to start.

“Open it, it’s for you!”

“For me?!” Eva ripped off the blowjob-themed wrapping paper and removed the luminescent purple butt-plug from its box, allowing it to pulsate and hum warmly in her hand. “Oh fucking!” she exclaimed. “Is it one of your dad’s models? It’s so beautiful!”

Alison grinned. “Try it! It’s specially designed to adapt to your asshole, and to gradually train your gape.”

“Wait, I’ll need some lube,” said Eva, searching in her handbag.

“No, you won’t!” Alison sang out.

“I fucking will, Al. I’m not like you!”

“Not with this mother you won’t. It’s self-lubing!”

“Fucking!” exclaimed Eva in amazement, as she lifted her skirt, knelt on a bench, stuck her ass out towards Alison, and handed her the plug. Alison took just a moment to admire Eva’s tight black starfish while sniffing its early-morning fragrance, before gently placing the head of the plug against it and giving it a gentle nudge. The whole butt-plug – apart from its T-bar – disappeared into Eva’s ass in one swift movement, as if it had a mind of its own. “Oh fuck, that’s amazing!” Eva yelped. “It knows exactly what to do!”

“Now, just wear it for a few days,” Alison said, “and soon you’ll be gaping like me!”

“Oh fuck!” squealed Eva again, as she felt the butt-plug begin its job of gently exploring her rectum from the inside – pulsating, vibrating, softly stroking her inner walls. “I’m gonna be jerking off so hard to this! Hey, didn’t I promise you that if you taught me to gape, I’d teach you to deepthroat? What about it?”

“Oh Jesus, how are you gonna do that?”

“I got some ideas. When do we start?”

~

Friday, 4^th November, 2050

Dear Mommy,

Thank you sooo much for the butt-plug for Eva. It arrived this morning, and she is thrilled – she’s been wearing it all day, squirming her ass around and squealing “Oh fuck!” like, every five minutes. Too soon to say how her gape is developing – but she really likes it, so another “Bates butt” in the bag!

This has been the fuckingest week of the course so far! Our afternoon sessions have been on twentieth century “porn”. We have this amazing lecturer: her name is Simony Silver, and she was what they used to call a “pornstar” in the ‘20s: have you heard of her? It’s amazing hearing her tales about being a professional fucker before the Enlightenment: it makes me really grateful I was born now, and not then!

Anyway, Simony has started us off watching flicks from what she calls the “Golden Age” of porn, which she says was the 1970s and early ‘80s. Jesus, some of those guys had tiny dicks, or couldn’t keep them hard – and the girls all had hairy cunts! But they didn’t have GM then, and they barely had any surgical enhancements either – so no fucking wonder! It’s amazing they managed to fuck each other at all…

Anyway, Simony’s been showing us her favourite scenes. There’s one from the ‘70s – something about Bach or Mozart or something – with a girl making three guys cum simultaneously with just her mouth and hands. That’s pretty impressive – I mean, these days guys are always stroking themselves off onto your face, aren’t they? So Harriet’s been practising it with Darren and Joe – first time I’ve ever seen her voluntarily put down her cigarettes.

Watching all this ancient stuff is really inspiring for youngsters like us! Those twentieth-century fuckers really had the odds stacked against them in so ways: diseases, social disapproval, legal prohibitions, no GM of course– and yet they kept at it! They must have been such idealists, so full of high moral principles, and such a grand sense of social vision, to go against the grain like that…

Anyway, today, Simony says, we’re starting what she calls the “Second Wave” – which I think means the mid-‘80s onwards. I get the impression the pornstars got better looking then – and I think some of them actually started shaving their cunts. I can’t wait!

Loads of Pleasure from your filthy motherfucking slut daughter,

Al

P.S. Oh yeah, I meant Beethoven…

~

“Psst… Alison! Claire!” Eva caught up with the two girls in the entrance hall just after lunch. “I’ve got something to show you,” she said. “Come out to the park with me.”

“Can’t you show us here?” asked Claire.

“Not safe,” Eva replied mysteriously. “These walls have ears.”

The three girls walked out into the open air, and turned towards Regents Park. Autumn was beginning to draw in, and the weather was becoming cooler, so the girls found a park bench on which they could huddle against each other in their jackets. Eva squealed “Oh fuck!” again, her bottom squirming in pleasure at the Bates plug therein – before taking an envelope out of her pocket and handing it to Alison. “My brother forwarded it to me,” she explained. On the envelope, in large curly pink handwriting, it read:

Robert Daniels, Esq.

followed by an address. Claire leaned over Alison’s shoulder, as Alison read aloud:

Dear Rob,

How good of you to look us up! I do hope we can get together sometime: you have been such an inspiration to us. I am so grateful that it was me that ended up sucking your cock that day in Cunts’ office – or I would not have heard your wise words, which gave a name to the feelings and thoughts that Andy and I had been having for so long but not dared voice.

There was a soft beep from between Eva’s buttocks. “Oh fuck,” she groaned. “That’s my plug. It means I need a poop,” she said, reaching under her skirt to pull out her purple Auto Plus Plug. It had grown fatter over the weekend, and pulsated slowly in her hand.

“What, you need a butt-plug to tell you when to shit?” asked Claire.

“Well, when I’m wearing it, it feels like I need a dump all the time – because it’s always stroking the inside of my ass. So it has a ‘poop-sensor’ to tell you when to have a shit. I should’ve gone straight after lunch. It’s okay – it always gives me a few minutes’ warning. Here, you want a taste?”

“Hey, how come Evie gets one of these monsters and I don’t?” asked Claire, giving the plug a slurp before handing it back.

“Well, you never said you wanted to learn to gape – but Evie did!” replied Alison self-righteously.

“Hey, Claire, you could join me in teaching Al to deepthroat!” suggested Eva mischievously, as she slid the plug back into her asshole.

“Hey, now there’s a thought,” Claire grinned.

“Oh fuck…” groaned Alison, as she resumed reading:

We are very happy together. It is of course quite a shock living outside the Union, where society is so different, and where the cultural norms and presumptions of the Enlightenment just do not apply. We have to keep reminding ourselves that we can’t just fuck anywhere and everywhere we want! But we are grateful for the Love which has brought us here, and which binds us together. And it is such a relief not having to live the lie we had to before…

“What the fuck?!” interrupted Eva, suddenly standing up and scowling into the distance.

“What?” said the other two in bewilderment.

“Look!” said Eva, pointing at a copper beech tree in the distance. “Watching us!”

“Who?” said Alison and Claire in unison.

“It… it… well, I could be wrong… but it looked like Chad…” said Eva, knitting her brow.

“Ha ha!” laughed Claire. “He’s missing your throat, baby – thought he could sneak up on you in the park and fuck your face while we’re looking the other way.”

“Well, I didn’t see anyone,” said Alison. “Shall I continue?

We got married last week! And – guess what? – we’ve been able to have our sterilisation reversed. So now I am pregnant, and we are expecting a baby in some nine months’ time! How fortunate we are.

“Fucking hell!” exclaimed Claire in shock. “Oh Jesus motherfucking Christ, how the fuck?!”

“What do you mean, ‘how the fuck’?” giggled Alison. “How the fuck do you think?”

“Yeah, okay, I know – I’ve read about it in history books.”

“Have you?” asked Alison, raising one eyebrow and smirking. “When was the last time you read a history book?”

“Oh fuck off, Al. Okay, maybe you just told me about it. But either way, to think that someone I know has got pregnant by being fucked, and that she’s gonna get all fat and ugly, and then the baby’s gonna come out of her cunt! Oh my fucking God…”

“Hey, shut up, Claire, let me continue,” said Alison, as she read:

Rob, I am so sorry to hear about your loss – and for the terrible way it happened. There is such a dark underbelly to the so-called Enlightenment: here in the Outside World it is much more chaotic, and insecure, and poverty-stricken – yet there is a wholeness and an honesty which makes up for all that.

“Just hang on a minute! I’ve been thinking…” interrupted Claire again.

“Well, that’s news!” joked Alison.

“Ha ha, Miss Schopenwhore. No, seriously – Anna says she’s had her sterilisation reversed? So does that mean every time she fucks a guy she’s gonna get a new baby?”

“No, cunt-brain!” replied Alison in exasperation. “First of all, she’s not gonna fuck other guys now, is she? And secondly –”

“Whaddaya mean, she’s not gonna fuck other guys?” interrupted Claire. “Why not?”

“Well, because she’s married to Andy now!”

“Yeah, well, my parents are married to each other, but they fuck anyone who comes their way. Don’t your parents?”

“Yeah, sure – but Unenlightened folks do it differently. For them, marriage is meant to be exclusive.”

“What!” shouted Claire, horrified. “No fucking way! Eva – surely your parents didn’t stop fucking around when they got married?”

“Uh, yeah, they did, kind of…” said Eva.

“But surely…” – Claire’s mind was working overtime, trying to work out an exit-clause – “at least your mom could fuck other girls, right?”

Eva laughed as she shook her head. Claire gaped at her in horror.

“Oops, uh… Eva… why don’t you read the next bit?” said Alison tentatively.

“Why?” asked Eva.

“Just do it,” replied Alison, handing her the letter. Eva took it and read:

Rob – I am also sorry that you do not yet have the blessing of being with the one you love. Be patient. Maybe things will change.

“What the fuck’s she talking about?” interrupted Claire again. “‘The one you love’ – who the fuck is that, Evie?”

“Well, I guess she means Alison…” ventured Eva.

“Alison?! Alison doesn’t fucking belong to him! How dare he?”

“Hey, calm down, Claire,” said Eva. “That’s just her interpretation. Besides, it’s no secret he loves her – and he sacrificed a lot out of love for her. And what’s it to you anyway?”

“What’s it to me? What’s it to me?” Claire blustered. “Don’t you think I care about Alison? Don’t you think I have the right to… to… I mean, I also…” Alison dug her elbow into Claire’s side to shut her up.

Claire was not finished – but tempered her language so that Eva wouldn’t suspect the true reasons for her disquietude. “Eva – do you mean that that’s… that’s normal for people in the Outside World? I mean, I know about the poverty and disease and all – and people like, live in trees and eat bugs and stuff… But do they really just fall in love, and get married, and have kids, and never fuck anyone else again – and they’re actually happy with that? I mean, your parents – were they really happy living that kind of life? And your brother now…?

“Why do you ask, Claire? You thinking of self-exiling too?”

“Fuck, no!” replied Claire in horror. “I just wondered…” She looked into the middle-distance, as if imagining something quite unfathomable. “I just wondered what’s it’s really like…”

Eva rolled her eyes. “Well, just to reassure you, my parents don’t live in a tree – or eat bugs! Now listen: I’m nearly done…

Please do keep in touch, Rob. With appreciation, and much love,

– Eva pronounced the last word loudly, as if making a very important point –

Anna and Andy

“There’s that ‘L-word’ again!” said Claire.

Alison smiled. “Hey, we’ll be late for Porn!” she said, checking her watch. “I don’t wanna miss it: we’re doing Traci Lords today. Hurry!”

“Yeah, and I need a crap!” said Eva. She got up, peering again suspiciously in the direction of the copper beech, before they all began walking briskly back towards the RAF.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
PROPER POSH TOTTY

“OH FUCK, I CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS!!!” screamed Alison in frustration. She was standing naked in the bathroom, scowling angrily at a flexible suction-cup dildo which waggled mockingly at her from her wall-length mirror. Her mouth was drooling – but her pussy was not. There was nothing, Alison thought, nothing at all pleasant about trying to deepthroat a dildo.

“What is it, pretty cunt?” called Claire from the bedroom.

“THIS FUCKING DILDO! I CAN’T FUCKING TAKE IT!!” replied Alison.

“I’ve never known you to be unable to take a dildo, baby,” said Claire, as she appeared naked at the bathroom door, wiping sleep from her eyes. “What’s the – oh!” Claire paused as she took in the sight of the dildo, protruding from the mirror some five feet off the ground. “Are you…?” She smiled knowingly, and giggled.

“DON’T FUCKING LAUGH AT ME!” bellowed Alison at her lover, pouting and clutching at her own throat. “I CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS!”

“Oh baby, baby, I’m sorry, it’s just – why didn’t you tell me you wanted to learn to deepthroat? I can help you, my love, you don’t have to do this alone! Where did you get this thing anyway?”

“Eva gave it to me. She said it might help if I just did a bit every day. She said I need to relax – but I can’t fucking relax if I feel like I’m gonna puke all the time!”

“Fuuuck, sweet cunt, there there, you should have told me. Here, I can help you relax – let’s do this together, my love.” She wrapped her arms around Alison’s naked body, as their breasts squashed against each other and their tongues gently entangled. “My love,” Claire smiled.

“Oh, say that again, baby: it makes my heart flutter,” muttered Alison into Claire’s hair.

“I’m not sure we want you all a-flutter if you want to learn to deepthroat,” giggled Claire. But she said it again anyway: “My Love.” And, as she slid slowly downwards, “Here, turn toward the wall, lean forward a bit, and let me relax you first…”

It was not long before Alison was moaning in soft pleasure, as she felt Claire’s clement tongue probing between her buttocks, gently tickling her little pucker into a modest but blossoming gape. “That’s so good, Claire,” she whimpered, as her lover’s hand slid between her thighs, curling a finger upwards into her sweet depths. “Yeah, finger my pussy, baby, while you lick that asshole, that’s so fucking good…”

As warmth and pleasure from her nether regions suffused her body, Alison looked again at the latex member waggling at her from the wall mirror, and in her re-awakened lust it began – just began – to look tempting. She licked at it tentatively, then wrapped her lips around the glans. Claire’s oral and digital ministrations were gentle – perfectly calibrated, in fact, to help Alison to relax into her horniness, rather than making her desperate to come. Alison moaned. She wanted something in her mouth, and she began to suck the dildo deeper and deeper, basking in the double pleasure of three of Claire’s fingers up her pussy, and her lover’s wet tongue slurping just round the rim of her rectum.

“Aargh!” Alison gagged. It wasn’t working. “Fuck this fucking throat of mine! How I do not gag, Claire, when something’s fucking choking me?”

“Okay, babe, let’s take it one step at a time. Here, let me take that thing off the wall.” The dildo squelched noisily as Claire prised it off. She slid it gently up her own pussy, twirling it around a couple of times so that when she pulled it out again it glistened with a thick layer of cunt-juice. “Always nicer when it’s tasty!” she giggled, before holding it gently up to Alison’s mouth. “Now, baby, I want you to sing for me.”

“You’re joking, right?” Alison pulled a face.

“No, seriously. Open your mouth wide, breathe slowly through your nose, stick your tongue out like you’re at the doctor’s, and hum from the back from your throat, ‘Aaaaaaaah…’” That’ll help keep your throat relaxed, and stop you retching on your own saliva. Go on, try it.”

Alison did as instructed, humming a half-speed contralto version of the “Bates Butt” jingle whilst Claire gently held the dildo, easing it ever so slowly into Alison’s mouth. Every time Alison started to get tense or nervous, Claire moved the fake cock slightly backwards, giving Alison a chance to regain control of her breathing. “Oh good, pretty fuck-slut, that so good,” Claire encouraged. “Relax, relax, it’s okay, you’re my bestest cunty-baby.”

After several false starts, Alison managed to get to the point where she could stand the feeling of the dildo at the back of her throat. She continued to hum, switching to a slowed-down version of “The Prettiest Whore”, still gargling her spit to keep herself relaxed, letting all the dribbles flow unimpeded down her chin.

“Oh yeah, baby, that’s good. Guys will like that,” Claire continued her encouragement – until they were interrupted by a familiar voice calling through the bathroom door: “Hey, is anybody there?”

“Hey, Brad, just the cock we needed!” Claire called out.

“I just wondered if you wanted to join me in jerking off to one of those 1980s porn flicks – you know, prep for Monday?”

“Later, sure thing, Brad – but come here first: Alison’s learning to deepthroat!”

“You’re kidding!” said Brad, poking his head around the door and taking in the sight of his two lovely lady friends in the bathroom, Alison’s lips wrapped around the dildo, Claire kissing her face and neck soothingly, her hand gently stroking her vulva.

“Well, here’s your chance, Dinky Dick!! giggled Claire. “Wanna be Alison’s first ever real live deepthroat cock?”

They moved into the bedroom. Alison knelt, eyes closed, and opened her mouth wide to Bradley’s rather small cock. Still humming and moaning, gently encouraged by Claire’s whispered words of love and pleasure, she felt Bradley’s member gently touch bottom. She hummed yet more, concentrating on inhaling slowly through her nose, feeling her saliva gurgle and gargle against Bradley’s cock-head, the excess continuing to dribble slowly out of her lips and down onto her tits. Bradley was, as ever, as wonderfully sensitive at fucking throat as he was at pussy or ass. Whenever Alison started to gag, he would gently, slowly, pull back to allow her to regain her composure and to relax her throat again. And then he would wait until Alison signalled ready, her tongue outstretched as she recommenced her humming, softly reciprocating with just a touch more of his length. Soon Alison was finding her flow, enjoying the satisfaction of each new quarter-inch, realising that the flesh of Bradley’s abdomen seemed just a tiny bit closer each couple of minutes – until she felt the tip of her nose touch his stomach, and her tongue stroking the slack skin of his scrotum.

“By George, she’s got it!” squealed Claire – prompting a fit of giggles in Alison – which made her retch and spit Bradley’s dick out – a long gloopy string of saliva following in its wake.

“Don’t make me fucking laugh!” scolded Alison, scowling, before slowly recommencing her long slow gradual descent towards Bradley’s abdomen again.

Claire was grinning from ear to ear, and she murmured loving words of encouragement: “Oh, that’s beautiful… My baby’s learning to be a deepthroat whore! Isn’t that amazing? How does it feel being the first cock to touch Alison’s tonsils, Brad?”

Brad responded with contented noises rather than vocabulary. Soon Alison could feel his cock expand and twitch, his glans became harder than ever against the back of her humming, gurgling mouth, and her tongue felt the veins in the underside of his shaft throb stronger than ever. She looked up into his eyes questioningly, seeking confirmation. He nodded in ecstasy.

“Can you take it, Al?” he asked solicitously.

Alison did not dare to try to respond with either words or gesture, but kept caressing Bradley’s glans with her throat, opening her mouth wider to receive the promised load. And when at last Bradley’s cock bucked and twitched and released its precious cream, there seemed nothing more natural than to let the salty load flow into her throat, and down, deep down…

There was silence from Brad and Claire, both awestruck by what they had witnessed. A dribble of semen and spit seeped out of Alison’s lips as Bradley slowly withdrew his cock. Tears of joy and admiration poured from Claire’s eyes. Bradley remained characteristically silent, even as he grinned in quiet commendation of Alison’s new-found skill. But Claire found her tongue, in more ways than one, and kissed Alison deep, sharing the dregs of Bradley’s jizz as she crooned, “Oh my beautiful clever girl! My sexy fucking deepthroat whore…”

Silently, calmly, Bradley smiled and wiped off his cock. Leaving the two lovers wallowing in the pleasure of his cum and each other’s bodies, he let himself out.

~

BOOM! The sky was exploding, for it was Bonfire Night in London.

Remember, remember the fifth of November!
Gunpower, treason and COCK!

exclaimed Claire.

“Plot,” corrected Alison.

“What?” said Claire, as they wandered together across Regents Park, enjoying the traditional early-winter festival, lit by exuberant displays of fireworks in the greying sky. The park and the streets were full of all the usual festivities: bonfires, sausages and marshmallows toasted in the fire, toffee apples on sticks, and great sticky slabs of parkin cake sold on every corner. It was a chilly late afternoon, and the sun was setting, so there was somewhat less fucking in the park than usual. Claire and Alison were sharing some toasted marshmallows, feeding them to each other mouth-to-mouth, letting them smear lusciously over each other’s lips, and then licking each other’s faces clean with long tongues.

“Pwo’,” repeated Alison through a mouthful of marshmallow, “not ‘cock’.”

“‘Plot’? What the fuck’s that mean?” said Claire. “Gunpowder, treason and plot?” She pronged a marshmallow on her middle finger and stuck it up in an obscene gesture, before starting to suck and nibble it off lasciviously.

“It’s all to do with Guy Fucks,” explained Alison knowledgeably. “There, look – ‘penny for the Guy’!” said Alison, pointing out a stuffed effigy being wheelbarrowed across the park toward a bonfire. The Guy was dressed as a tramp, but with a huge dildo sticking out of its crotch. A gaggle of squealing teenage girls was taking it in turns to impale their pussies on the Guy’s “cock” whilst repeating, “Gunpower, treason and COCK! Gunpower, treason and COCK!”

“See, I told you it was ‘cock’!” riposted Claire self-righteously.

“No, no, that’s not how it goes! It’s because in the olden days, there was this king, see…”

But Alison never finished her history lesson, for she was interrupted by a shout from the direction of the teenagers: “‘Ey, Alison!”

Alison knew at once who it was. “Alison, I was on me way to see ya! Is ‘at okay?” Riley peeled off from her group of friends – Alison briefly recognised Amber, Teresa and Belle – and came dancing up to Alison and Claire, a toffee apple on a stick clutched in her hand.

“Riley! Good to see you! But hey, we were just enjoying the party. Wanna sit down with us somewhere here?”

The three girls found a bench to sit on. Actually, Claire and Alison did – but Riley continued dancing excitedly on her toes, saying, “Watch this! watch this, Alison! Look wha’ I’ bin practisin’!” She bent over, flipped her skirt up to display her naked bottom, spread her buttocks, and slowly squeezed her warm steaming toffee apple into her gaping ass, grinning from ear to ear as she turned to watch Alison’s reaction. The fruit disappeared into the depths of her rectum, her sphincter closed around the stick, and gloopy golden-brown caramel dribbled off the rim of her asshole to smear the inside of her buttocks.

“Oh fuck, Riley – that’s beautiful!” exclaimed Claire. “Let me eat some of that!”

“D’ya fink I’m good enough for the RAF?” asked Riley, her eyes dancing with enthusiasm as, still gripping the stick on which the apple was impaled, she bore down, letting the fruit slowly gape her asshole-rim apple-wide again, before it plopped out with a soft low-pitched fart and another copious dribble of caramel.

“Of course you are: you’re amazing” said Alison, as Riley reached between her buttocks, scraped up a handful of toffee, and held it out for Claire to slurp up. “Why don’t you apply?”

“Why don’ I apply?” replied Riley, taking a bite of her apple. “You shittin’ me? ‘Coz it’s too fuckin’ expensive! It costs five fousand euros just to audition! No way can I afford that!”

“Can’t your parents help? What do they do?”

“Don’ ‘ave no dad – ‘e pissed off years ago, before I was born. Me mum spent the last of ‘is animoly money GM’ing me arsehole. She works at the glory’ole station – ya know, on Maryleboner? The pay’s shit – she barely makes enough to put food on the table. Sometimes at weekends I work there too, ‘coz I’m good at deepfroatin’. But ‘ow can people like us livin’ on a fuckin’ council estate, ya know, improve our lot in life if we can’ even afford to audition? It’s like becomin’ a proper posh fucker like you is only for rich people!”

“Well, that just wrong!” replied Alison indignantly. “Becoming a fucker shouldn’t depend upon how much money you have!”

“Well I know that, and you know that,” said Riley. “But can ya do anyfink abou’ it? Is there a way round?”

They paused.

“I have an idea,” said Claire, nodding with satisfaction as she looked pensively into the distance.

“Oho! That’s new!” said Alison mockingly.

“Wha’ is i’?” asked Riley curiously.

But instead of answering, Claire suddenly stood up, shouting “Jesus fucking Christ, what the motherfuck…!” and pointing into the distance. “Look!”

“What?!” said Alison standing up. Both she and Riley peered in the direction in which Claire was pointing.

“Chad!” snarled Claire.

“What, again?!” replied Alison. “Are you sure?”

“‘Oo’s Chad?” asked Riley.

“It was him, I’m sure of it!” said Claire, ignoring Riley’s question. “He was watching us. He scarpered as soon as I saw him. Dickhead!”

“What’s he up to?” wondered Alison out loud. She shrugged her shoulders. “Well anyway, we’re together: he can’t do us any harm.” She and Claire both sat down again on the bench – and this time Riley joined them.

“So…” said Riley, after they had settled down again, “what was your idea, Claire?”

“Well…” replied Claire. “Stick the rest of that toffee apple in my cunt, and I’ll tell you my plan…”

~

“Doctor Dick?”

“Claire – how can I help you?” replied Dick-Dick, turning and waiting, as Claire caught up with him on Monday morning in the corridors of the RAF.

“Well, I was wondering…” Claire bit her lower lip seductively, “what the conditions are for auditioning for a place at the RAF?”

“Do you know someone who is interested?”

“Yes – and she’s very good: she’s got this amazing asshole, you know, huge gapes and all, a bit like Alison.”

“Excellent!” said Dr Dick, with a glint in his eye. “Does she know how to apply? You can give her one of our prospectuses.”

“And she can deepthroat as well – she’s amazing!” Claire gently caressed her pert breasts through her see-through top.

“Wonderful. Well, get her to apply, and then if she’s short-listed she’ll be called for audition.”

“I’ve seen her take, like, twenty cum-loads in her ass and then fart them out all over the faces of a bunch of hot girls,” continued Claire, reaching under her skirt to rub her pussy. “She’s so fucking hot…” Claire moaned slightly.

“Uh, great, Claire,” stammered Dick-Dick. He was not quite sure why Claire was providing him with all this detail – though, despite his professionalism, he was finding it a bit hard not to let his instinct get in the way. His cock began to rise in his trousers.

“And,” – Claire was pleased to see her words having the desired effect – “she can take even the biggest, longest cock all the way down her throat… You know what I mean by a really really looong cock, Doctor Dick?” She reached forward, and began to run her fingers up and down the bulging outline of her professor’s shaft.

Dr Dick’s heart was pounding, and he stammered again: “Long c- cock? That’s great, Claire. I’m sure she’ll do really well if she aud–”

But Claire was not wasting any more time. She was on her knees now, unzipping Dick-Dick’s fly with deft fingers and swallowing his member deep into her throat with skill and urgency. Her lecturer groaned as he felt his glans nudge against the slimy throbbing back of her throat, but did his best to maintain a veneer of professionalism, continuing, “All your friend needs to do is fill in the form and return it with the application fee, and… and I will be delighted to audition her myself, personally – oh fuck…”

Claire was pleased to see that she was having the desired effect, but was not about to throw away her advantage too soon. She slid her throat slowly back up her professor’s cock, her tongue flicking and slurping at the underside of his shaft as her lips gently nibbled his stiff rod. A long slimy rope of spit dangled from her lips as she asked, with faux innocence, “Oh, Doctor Dick! Is there any way she can avoid paying the audition fee? She doesn’t have much money, this friend of mine – her mom’s a two-bit whore, you see – I mean, a really respectable honest woman, but poor.” Claire worked her saliva into Dick-Dick’s cock-head with her hand, before plunging back down again to swallow his cock all the way in.

“Oh fuck!” swore Dick-Dick, as he felt his semen begin to rise and his cock harden even more. “That’s not really allowed, Claire! I can’t do that – that would be to show favouritism, which isn’t… oh fuck… isn’t fair…”

Claire withdrew her mouth from Dr Dick’s cock, leaving it bobbing desperately in front of her face. “Oh, that’s a shame, Doctor Dick. Can’t you… uh… stretch the rules a bit?” She looked up into her professor’s face, fluttering her eyelids and licking her lips, whilst taking care not to actually touch the long throbbing cock which waggled desperately in front of her eyes. “Alison tells me you sometimes have been known to… stretch the rules…?” She looked up into Dr Dick’s eyes, now with steely and unforgiving clarity. She knew what she meant, and Dick-Dick knew too. “I promise I won’t tell anyone if you ‘stretch the rules’ again…” She delicately licked the tip of his throbbing glans, teasing it to within a hair’s breadth of coming, but pausing just before the edge, leaving her professor in the agony of a not-quite orgasm.

Claire looked into her professor’s eyes, knowing she had him in her power. He looked at her, desperate to squirt his load – and knew she was right.

“I’m sure something can be arranged, Claire,” he panted.

“Oh good!” grinned Claire, before plunging her throat down again, taking Dr Dick’s full length all the way in, until her tongue licked his balls. She then began to give him a full-length full-depth mouth fuck, as she did her best to talk him over the edge: “Oh ‘eah, ‘Ofessor ‘Ick, I ‘et my fwiend will suck your ‘ock so fucking ‘ood, aww the way ‘own her fucking fwoa’, and then she’ww let you wam your fucking ‘ock ‘eep into her asshowwe. And then you ‘an stick your ass-fwawoured ‘ock ba’ into her fuckin’ mouf and squir’ aww your fucking ‘um down her fwoa’ – does ‘at soun’ ‘ood?” Dr Dick had lost control, and his cock was bucking and jerking, as he released his salty cum-load. This time, it was Claire’s turn to “do an Alison”: she held the pulsating cock tight between her lips, letting the cum flow unimpeded down her gullet, until her professor’s balls were spent.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck…” panted Dr Dick, in time with the spasms in his cock.

Claire grinned triumphantly. “I’ll bring Riley to see you then, Doctor Dick, shall I?” she asked, as she slowly slid the long cock out of her throat, gently sucking out the last few drops from his glans. The professor nodded and groaned in incoherent ecstasy.

“Tomorrow?” prompted Claire. “Lunchtime?”

Dick-Dick nodded again, panting. “Tomorrow… lunch-… fuck… -time…”

Claire grinned.

~

“Will I be all righ’?” asked Riley. “I’m so fuckin’ nervous!” She was dressed in her school uniform – white blouse, plaid skirt and tie. “This is the best I’ve got to wear. Don’ ‘ave no fancy clothes like you. And do I ‘ave to talk all posh for this Doctor Dick – ya know, ‘‘ow d’ya do’ and all ‘at sort o’ fing?”

“Just be your normal self, Riley. You’ll be great,” Alison reassured her. “I’m sure Doctor Dick will be very happy with you in school uniform – besides, it won’t stay on long, will it? And I don’t think he’ll care how you speak – just so long as it’s filthy!” she laughed.

“Wai’, wai’, I been practisin’ talkin’ all posh-like. Me mum’s bin teachin’ me. She says for the fuckin’ Royal Academy of fuckin’… uh… Fuckin’, I better not sound too common, righ’? You know me dad was all posh – came from ‘Enley-on-Thames or somefink: didn’t stop ‘im fuckin’ scarperin’ as soon as I come along though, did it? Now listen ta this…” Riley stood up straight as a choirgirl, before declaiming, with an exaggeratedly upper-class English accent, “Good ahfternoon, Miss Bates. Would you maynd awfully licking my pussy?”

Alison doubled up with laughter. “Wha’? Wha’?” said Riley “Wasn’ ‘at posh enough for ya? Should I say ‘cunt’ instead o’ ‘pussy’?”

“No, Riley, you’ll be perfect, girl,” said Alison reassuringly. If you ask Dick-Dick to lick your pussy, he won’t mind what accent you use!”

Alison led Riley up the front steps of the RAF into the entrance hall, where Claire was waiting for them. “Oh fuuuuuuuck!!!” exclaimed Riley with utter glee, as she caught sight of the huge cock-in-cunt poster on the back wall. “‘We Train the Fuckers of the Future’! Oh fuck – how amazin’ – I’m at the RAF! I’m at the fuckin’ RAF!” Riley giggled as she danced up and down with excitement.

Riley could not contain herself, as she took in all the sights and sounds of the RAF foyer, staircase and corridors. “Oh look, Alison, there’s a couple o’ girls fistin’ each other’s arses – I love doin’ that, d’you? Oh and look, that guy’s pissin’ in that girl’s mouth – never been much into pissin’, wha’ about you? Oh yeah, ‘Bukkake Lecture Theatre’ – fuckin’! D’you like bukka’e? I fuckin’ love it! There’s this girl at my school – oh yeah, Amber, you remember ‘er, she’s really good at bukka’e, she, like, takes it all on her face, and then she, like, slurps it all down, and then she blows bubbles, and then, get this, best of all…”

But Riley’s narrative was cut short, as they had reached their destination. Claire knocked. “Hello, Doctor Dick!” she smiled as they entered his office. “This is Riley, here for her audition.”

“Ah yes, come in, Riley. Suck my cock,” said Dr Dick as he hastily shut a vintage magazine he was leafing through, before stuffing his erection into his trousers, wiping some pre-cum off his fingers with his shirt sleeve.

“Lick my pussy, Doctor Dick,” replied Riley, putting on her best manners and, despite Alison’s reassurances, the poshest accent she could muster. “I must say, I am hawfully delighted to meet you.” Claire gaped in astonishment, and Alison grinned.

“It is such an honour, Sir, to be hable to be heah today,” continued Riley. “How kaynd of you to let me come!” she added, clasping her hands in front of her skirt, in what she evidently thought was an educated, upper middle-class mien. 

“We’ll wait outside, shall we, Dick-Dick?” said Claire, giggling. “Good luck, Riley!”

Alison and Claire sat on a sofa in the corridor just outside Dick-Dick’s office. “Do you think she’ll be all right?” asked Alison apprehensively.

“Oh definitely,” replied Claire. “She’s like you – a ‘dirty filthy motherfucking assfucking whore’. She’ll be perfect here. What more could Dick-Dick be after?”

They paused, listening for the muffled conversation behind Dick-Dick’s office door. There was the faint sound of Riley’s voice saying, “Would you layk me to suck your cock, Doctor Dick? I am terribly good at that,” in her best voice – at which Claire and Alison snorted noisily.

“Hey, it’s your birthday on Saturday!” said Claire, changing the subject. “What would you like?”

“Surprise me!” replied Alison.

“Dangerous thing to say to a fuck-whore like me!” grinned Claire.

“Just – if you get me a cake, let me eat some before you stuff it up your cunt,” joked Alison.

“Aw! Don’t you like eating my cunt?”

“I love your cunt, baby. But sometimes it’s nice ‘on the side’!”

They laughed again – but stopped as they heard a short burst of quacking noises emanating from behind Dr Dick’s office door. “Oho! The deepthroating begins!” said Claire.

“No, no, I’m not fucking jealous,” lied Alison. “She can throat-fuck, and she’s got the perfect gape – it’s not fair!”

The pace appeared to be picking up between Riley and Dick-Dick. The gagging, gurgling sounds from behind the office door now formed a loud and continuous soundtrack which echoed through the door and down the corridor – punctuated by the occasional “Oh yeah, fuck my fuckin’ face, Doctor Dick!” or “Ram that motherfuckin’ cock deep in my froa’, Doctor!” or “Come on, make me fuckin’ puke, Professor!”

“Oops, her accent’s reverting to type,” said Alison. “And she won’t puke, will she? That could go badly wrong…”

“Nah. If she’s worked in the gloryhole place, she’ll know how to handle a cock in her throat. She’ll make him think he’s gagging her – but it’s all for show: guys like that, makes them feel powerful…”

There was another change of tone from behind Dr Dick’s door, as Claire and Alison heard Riley shouting, “In me cunt?! Nah, come on, Doctor Dick, cunt is for pussies! Ram that dick in me fuckin’ arse – go on, poke that long fuckin’ cock of yours deep inside me shit-hole, see wha’ you can find there!”

“Oh, she’s very common, isn’t she?” grimaced Alison.

Claire laughed. “I don’t think Dick-Dick will mind. You know how he loves ‘arse’!”

Riley’s stream of verbal filth was getting louder and more and more obscene: “You like explorin’ me filthy fuckin’ arse, Doctor Dick? What can you find in me shitter? Somefink to take ‘ome for the wife? Go on, poke that cock even deeper, professor – maybe there’s somefink there for your mum as well! You gonna fuckin’ spray-clean it wiv all your fuckin’ cum? You wanna see your cum swillin’ around in me gapin’ arse after you’ve fucked it?”

Claire and Alison listened, transfixed, mouths agape. “Oh, she’s so filthy!” giggled Alison, as they heard Dick-Dick’s moans indicate his impending orgasm.

“Coming from you, that’s fine praise!” grinned Claire.

Riley was not letting up, and Dick-Dick was clearly not holding back, as Riley bellowed, “Oh yeah, that’s it, Doctor Dickhead, squirt your fuckin’ cum in me arse! That’s so fuckin’ good! You wanna watch me eat your fuckin’ cum from me brown ‘ole? You wanna watch me fuckin’ gargle your cream ou’ o’ me arse? You wanna watch me fuckin’ drink it down after it’s been swillin’ around in me dirty fuckin’ shit-hole? Yeah FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!”

A bell rang, indicating the end of lunch break, but temporarily blocking the sound of the latter part of Dr Dick’s orgasm. Then, as the bell ceased, Alison and Claire heard a series of slurping sounds from within the office, followed by a long noisy gargle, and then a loud burp. “Oh yeah, Doctor Dickhead,” came Riley’s voice, “that’s fuckin’ tasty cum, that is. And it’s even better out o’ me arsehole!”

“Oh my fucking God!” exclaimed Claire. “She’s amazing!”

“She’s a natural,” agreed Alison. “Never mind getting in, she should be awarded a scholarship!”

A couple of minutes later, Riley and Dick-Dick appeared at the door. Both were clothed again – though a long dribble of cum snaked its way down Riley’s right leg. “It’s awfully kaynd of you to see me today, Doctor Dick,” smiled Riley, regaining her mock-posh deportment as she gave a genteel curtsey. “Thenk you sooo much for your taym.” She gave a little cum-scented burp and licked a stray drop of semen off her lower lip.

“It’s been a pleasure, young lady,” said Dr Dick. He looked flushed, breathless, and ecstatic. “You have great talent: I’m so glad you could come.”

“Oh, I think you also did come too, Professor, did not you?” said Riley, arching one eyebrow.

Alison and Claire guffawed again, and Claire put her arm around Riley’s shoulders. “Come on, you amazing chav slut – let’s take you home…”

“Chav?” replied Riley in mock outrage. “Ay nay, Lord love you, I am not nay chav, Miss Claire, I am gaying to study at the Royal Ackedemy of Fucking. That makes me proper posh totty, dayn’t you think?” She giggled, stuck out her bottom, and emitted a long noisy squelchy fart. “Au revwah, Professor Dickhead, I do declare I em so cunting pleased to have met you!” Her exuberant laughter tinkled like a carillon through the corridors of the Royal Academy.

Dr Dick looked absolutely smitten.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
A JOLLY GOOD FUCKER

Fucky Birthday to you,
Fucky Birthday to you,
Fucky Birthday, dear Alison,
Fucky Birthday to you!

“Surprise!” There was a chorus of cheers, and Alison felt her blindfold being untied. She looked around and gasped at the sight of Claire’s room, decorated with bunting and banners displaying messages like “Happy 19^th – to a True Whore!” and “Many Fucky Returns!” Little pink paper cocks, tits and asses, dangling from ribbons, festooned the room, which was dominated by a huge poster of a gaping asshole, on which it said “Open Your Birthday Presents – Wide!” Claire, Eva, Bradley, Harriet, Angie, Joe and Darren were all there, dressed in their party best and cheering:

For she’s a jolly good fucker,
For she’s a jolly good fucker,
For she’s a jolly good fucker,
And so say all of us!

“Aw, guys, you are so fucking wonderful!” gasped Alison, tears of joy leaking down her face. “Thank you!”

“Cake or presents first?” asked Claire.

“Oh shit, I don’t know!” Alison hesitated. “Whatever – presents!” There was another cheer from her assembled friends.

Alison had never enjoyed such a lovely variety of gifts. Joe and Darren had bought her a set of vibrating ben wa balls. Harriet had bought her a disk of her favourite smoking fetish movies. Angie gave her a huge tub of Dubble Bubble gum and a training manual entitled How to Be a Bubblegum Fetish Whore. Eva had bought her a set of deepthroat-training dildos, in a series of sizes from three up to twelve inches – “so you can practise your technique”! And Bradley had bought her a compilation set of Porn Classics From the 1980s (“Oh look, my favourites! Traci Lords, Ginger Lynn, Bunny Bleu – fucking!”)

Claire, of course, had provided the cake. And what a cake! Taking pride of place on a table just under the window, it was shaped like an ass – clearly not just any ass, but loving sculpted to look just like Alison’s in full gape mode. Two luscious buttocks, iced with flesh-pink buttercream, gleamed on a large cake-stand. In the cleft between them lurked a gaping hole – in which gently swirled a cupful of double cream. “Oh fuck!” screeched Alison. “You filled my asshole with cum!”

“Just the way you like it, babe!” replied Claire, winking cheekily.

But there was one more parcel left. Claire presented it to Alison last of all, saying, “This is from your Mommy and Daddy: they asked me to give it you.”

“Oh Claire, how sweet! This is the first time I’ve been away from home for my birthday. I didn’t even know they’d remember!”

“Of course they remembered, Al. And I think they got you something special!”

The parcel certainly looked special. The wrapping paper was cock-themed: big cocks, small cocks, white cocks, brown cocks – including some cumming cocks. And when Alison carefully peeled it open, she gasped in amazement.

“It’s an auto!” she squealed. “It’s a fucking auto-dildo!”

“What?!” said the others in astonishment.

“What, like Professor Cunts’?” asked Harriet, as she exhaled a series of little puffs of smoke. “Fucking!”

Everyone watched as Alison opened the box. The dildo was – quite surprisingly for a dildo – flaccid, but as Alison lifted it out of its box to hold it, it gently shifted and pulsated, as if slowly waking up. It emitted a soft hum – almost a moan – as Alison held it up by the insertable bulb end and gently licked the glans; the fake cock began to slowly stiffen in response, gleaming proudly. “Oh, it’s so beautiful!” whimpered Alison. “Aren’t my Mommy and Daddy wonderful?! Listen to what they wrote:

Dearest Cunty-Pie, our very own fuckslut daughter Alison,

“Aw, ivn’t vat fweet!” said Angie, as she worked her bubblegum in her mouth.

“My parents are wonderful!” Alison nodded enthusiastically, before continuing:

We are so proud of you. We are sure you will become the greatest fucking whore the world has ever known. You deserve this dildo more than anything else. We hope you fuck thousands of hot cunts and assholes with it, and make them all come!

Lots of fucks and kisses,

Mommy and Daddy

“Try it on! Try it on!” shouted Eva.

Alison did. And as she inserted the bulb end into her cunt, she felt transformed – like nothing else on earth she had ever felt in her life. For this dildo was not just a toy to strap on and pretend with. This was not even a strapless dildo which she would have to grip onto for dear life with her kegels. No, she felt the dildo automatically mould itself to her, attach itself gently around her clit, explore and fill and extend into her cunt to find her G-spot – so that it felt like it was part of her body. “Oh fuck!” Alison squealed with joy. “This is fucking amazing!”

Alison gently touched the tip of the glans, and she felt a jolt of pleasure course through to her clit. The dildo jerked upwards, stiffening as it expressed outwardly the pleasure it had transmitted to Alison’s body. “Oh my fucking God! Is this what it feels like to have a cock?!”

Alison wrapped her fist gently around the head of the dildo – and she felt a warmth spread through her cunt, almost as if her clit was being enveloped by her palm. She spat into her hand and began to slowly stroke it up and down the shaft of the fake cock. It stiffened further, straightened and swelled, lengthening to a good eight inches, whilst transmitting the most exquisite pleasure to Alison’s crotch. “Oh motherfucking God, this is amazing!” she cried. “I gotta fuck someone with this! I gotta fuck someone!”

“Me! Me!” squealed Claire, lying on the bed, hitching up her skirt and using her fingers to spread her shaven cunt so Alison could gaze past her pussy-lips into her squelchy pink folds. Alison grabbed Claire’s legs and pulled her body towards her, sliding the dildo deep into her fuck-hole in one long glide. As she did, she felt the toy transmit the most wondrous feeling to her – something she had never felt before – the feeling of being enveloped, encased by hot female fuck-flesh. Somehow (“the marvels of Enlightenment technology!”), Alison could feel Claire’s inner walls through the dildo – warm and soft and slippery. And as she slowly fucked in and out, she understood for the first time ever what males of the species have always known: that there is nothing better than fucking cunt. “OH FUCK!!!” she screamed. “THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD! What it’s like for you, Claire?”

“Fucking amazing!” enthused Claire. “Like a real dick – all pulsating and throbbing and – oh Jesus, are you gonna come already?”

Alison wasn’t quite sure – because this orgasm which was building in her was like nothing she had ever experienced before. She knew that she must be feeling the pleasure in her clit, but if she hadn’t known better, she would have thought that this fake cock was part of her, and that she was feeling everything it felt – so realistic was the way it was transmitting sensations to her body. She felt fluid rising deep inside her – a bit like she was going to pee, or squirt – but different. It was a boiling, thick, rich sensation, growing as if through a column of stiff flesh till it was about to explode. She felt her dildo stiffen further, full of ejaculate, like a dam ready to burst, and she felt that excruciating, wonderful, heavenly sensation, which she had never felt before, of a cock – her own cock! – on the edge of orgasm.

“FUUUCK!!!” she screamed, as she felt herself come like she had never come before. She knew – because she had studied such things – that the sensations must be in her clit, in her G-spot, in her pussy. But she felt like it was her own cock jerking, her own cum exploding, her own balls emptying their precious fluid deep into Claire’s hot cunt, which she felt squeeze and caress her girlcock with its soft moist flesh. Of course, the auto-dildo came ready-loaded, and now its cum poured out in spurt after spurt into Claire’s hot fuck-tunnel – and Claire too came, screaming and thrashing as she felt it splash against her cervix.

Briefly, both Alison and Claire forgot that they had a crowd of awestruck spectators, quietly stroking themselves off as they watched the hot dickgirl-fuck unfolding in front of their eyes. And for a fleeting moment, Alison wished she had a real cock, so she could fill Claire up with her own sperm, make her her lover, make her her wife, make her a mother… It was as if nothing else mattered any more.

They lay in each other’s arms, feeling the warm dildo-cum swash around in Claire’s cunt, as the dildo gradually softened. And as their orgasm subsided, they looked into each other’s eyes, but did not say out loud, “I love you.”

Claire broke the clinch first. “Hey, let’s have some cake!” she squealed, leaping up, auto-cum running down her leg, to rummage in a drawer and produce: “Candles!”

Alison removed her auto-dildo, licking it clean and squeezing out the last few drops of cum, and lovingly placed it, now flaccid again, back in its box, Claire arranged nineteen candles around the cake on the cake-board – each one shaped like an erect penis, but each different from its neighbours. There were cocks of all shapes and sizes and colours – and Alison admired them joyfully as Harriet got out her lighter to light all nineteen: some pink, some brown, some black; some circumcised and some uncut; some small, some huge; some really fat, others thinner.

“That one looks like mine!” said Darren pointing at a seven-inch cock-candle with a slight bend at the end.

“Mine’s that one,” replied Joe, pointing at a slightly shorter, fatter one.

“And that’s mine, I guess…” said Bradley, indicating the smallest.

“Yeah – small but mean!” giggled Claire, as she gave Bradley an affectionate grope. He smiled back at her, and she gave him a cheeky grin.

But Alison’s eyes were drawn to the largest cock-candle of all: huge, black – and beautiful. She felt her own pussy tingle in response. It took a split second for her to realise what caught her eye about it: it looked just like… Alison stopped herself. “No, I mustn’t think about him,” Alison thought. Eva caught her eye – and she understood. Claire also noticed, and frowned.

There was a knock at the door – and Riley’s sparkling eyes and long silver-blond tresses poked around the edge of the doorway. “Riley!” exclaimed Claire. “Come in!”

“Guys,” Alison called out, “this is Riley. She’s a friend of mine, and she’s applying to the RAF: she’s a great fucker.”

“Eat m’ cunt, guys!” grinned Riley, eliciting a jumble of “cock” and “cunt” from the assembled partygoers. “Fucky birfday, Al!” she exclaimed, bouncing up to Alison and kissing her on the lips. “Guess what? I’m in!” Riley jiggled up and down with excitement, her eyes proclaiming her joy to the whole room. “Look!” she squealed, holding up a letter, which she proceeded to read:

Dear Miss Throstlethwaite,

It was an unfortunate surname for Riley, thought Alison, as the girl could barely pronounce it herself. “That’s me – Riley Frosslefwai’,” explained Riley to Alison’s friends, before continuing to read, in her best accent:

Thank you for attending your audition with Dr R. Dick on Tuesday 8^th November. We are pleased to be able to extend to you a conditional offer of a place on our National Diploma in Fucking course, commencing in September 2051. This offer is conditional upon your achieving a “pass” in your BFUC in June 2051.

Having reviewed your application for financial assistance, we are pleased to say that if you achieve an “A” grade in your BFUC, the Royal Academy of Fucking will be able to offer you a 90% reduction in fees.

We look forward to hearing from you as soon as possible as to whether you will be accepting this offer.

Yours fuckfully,

Professor E. J. Cuntslicker, PGCF, FD, FRSF

“This calls for a double celebration!” exclaimed Claire, as she gave Riley a sloppy congratulatory kiss on the lips. “Time for cake!”

Alison’s birthday anal gâteau elicited praise from all around – especially from Riley: “Oh fuck, I’ve never seen anyfink so posh-like. What a beau’iful arsehole!”

“And as it’s Alison’s birthday, she’s got to take the first slurp of cum!” Claire announced with glee. And so Alison bent down carefully and buried her head between the two pink buttocks, sticking out her tongue to slurp from the cake’s gaping asshole. Her face emerged caked with pink buttercream, double cream dripping from her tongue and chin. She licked her lips sensually at Claire.

“Oh yeah!” exclaimed Claire lustfully. “Who’s gonna fuck the pretty cake-face?”

Bradley stepped up to the mark, offering his cock for Alison to suck. “And,” Claire added, “guess what, guys? Al’s learnt to deepthroat!”

There were gasps of admiration from all around. “What, already?” squealed Eva. “Let me see, let me see!”

“Aw fuck, Claire, you shouldn’t have said anything!” remonstrated Alison, as little globs of pink and white cream dripped off her face onto her tits. But she knelt dutifully, opened her mouth wide and started to hum “Fucky Birthday” in her throat, as Bradley gently, solicitously, slid his cock into her face.

There was rapt silence all around as everyone watched Alison start to deepthroat Bradley’s cock. It was not a wild, violent throatfuck such as Alison had seen Claire and Eva perform – but, though Alison was definitely a novice, this blowjob nevertheless was the work of a pair of true artists. Bradley, ever sensitive, withdrew slightly whenever he sensed that Alison was losing control, and Alison paced herself carefully, also pulling back when necessary to regain control of her breathing, or to resume her humming. Saliva drooled slowly out of her mouth and down her chin, mixing with the cake icing to make long pink streaks which, if she tipped her head back, dribbled down her neck and onto her tits. If she tipped forward, the saliva flowed gently down the underside of Bradley’s cock, making glistening pale pink strings of spit which dangled and swung from his shaft. And when Bradley withdrew his cock and calmly jerked a modest cum-load into Alison’s open mouth, there were cheers all round.

“The cat that got the cream!” crooned Eva as she knelt down, clamping her lips onto Alison’s so she could share Bradley’s ejaculate. “That’s amazing, Al!” she grinned, licking a stray drop of cum from her friend’s chin. “When did you learn to do that?”

“Oh, I’ve been practising…” said Alison vaguely. “And Claire’s been helping me… But what about you, Evie? How the ol’ ‘Bates butt’ doing?”

Eva said nothing, but, smirking slightly, stood up and pulled her skirt down to reveal her rump. The purple T-bar glistened and hummed between her dark brown buttocks. She pulled gently, and the Bates plug popped softly out. It had grown significantly since Alison had last seen it – which she knew meant that it had been doing good work for the past week. Eva grinned, then pulled her buttocks apart so that everyone could gaze in-between.

There was a collective “oh fuck!” from the boys. Claire gasped. And Alison squealed with delight: “Oh holy motherfucking God, that’s so fucking amazing! Look at that gape: it’s like mine!”

“Hardly!” remonstrated Eva “But it’s making progress, isn’t it?” she grinned. “Wait, wait, let me try something…” She paused, concentrated hard, and then began to slowly wink her asshole open and shut – not very much, to be sure, but enough to make Claire gasp again.

“Okay, guys, this is it: time for an asshole competition!” said Claire. “Girls, line up in a row with your butts in the air. The boys will be the judges.”

Actually, not all the girls followed Claire’s instructions. Harriet and Angie were too busy in the corner sharing fetish tips – in particular, how to blow smoke-filled bubblegum bubbles. However, when Alison, Eva and Riley crouched down and lined up their posteriors facing skyward, nothing could stop the boys getting their cocks out. At the ends of the row, Alison’s and Riley’s rectums gaped and pulsated ostentatiously liked the true GM specimens they were. But in the centre, Eva’s ebony buttocks gleamed and jiggled seductively, and between them her asshole, though amateur in comparison, winked cheekily, exposing occasional little glimpses of russet-brown rectal flesh within.

“I don’t think,” said Darren, “that we can possibly form any sensible judgement without closer inspection – do you, chaps?” He and Joe did not wait for permission, but stepped forward and began taking turns sinking their dicks into the three gleaming assholes in turn. “Hmmmm…” pondered Darren thoughtfully, as he probed Riley’s rectum first, “lovely and spacious – but a bit common, don’t you think, Joe?”

Let me try,” said Joe, as Darren moved on to carefully squeeze his cock into Eva’s tighter asshole. “Yes, I’m inclined to agree, Darren,” said Joe. “A bit white trash. How’s the newbie?”

“Wonderfully tight – just a bit inexperienced,” replied Darren as he gently pulled out, leaving Eva giggling as she displayed a modest, unassuming gape to the world.

“Enter by the narrow door, my son!” quipped Joe. He took Darren’s place between Eva’s buttocks and slowly lowered his dick into her tight brown hole. “Ah, nothing like diversity, is there?” he enthused. “I feel quite woke!”

But Darren already had his dick in Alison’s rectum. “Ah now, young Joe,” he replied, as his cock slid in and out of Alison shining shimmering orifice, “there is something about birthday girls. Maybe it’s their added maturity, but there’s nothing like a nineteen-year-old genetically-modified shit-pit to get you going. Here, join me: I think there’s room for two in here…”

Whilst Joe and Darren continued their anal explorations, Bradley walked quietly round behind the still-standing Claire, putting his arms around her, and beginning to rub his flaccid cock against her damp pussy. “Lemme eat some cake while you fuck me, Brad,” Claire moaned, leaning forward and burying her face in one of the pink-iced buttocks, while Brad slowly slid his gradually hardening cock into her wet slot from behind. “Oh yeah, ‘uck me, Bwad,” she gurgled, her mouth full of cake, icing and whipped cream, as she felt Brad’s cock harden and fill her up.

It was not long before the whole party had found perfect fulfilment in a no-holds-barred multi-fetish orgy. Angie formed the bubblegum pole of the orgy, blowing bubbles and letting the boys use their cocks to pop them all over her face. Harriet formed the smoking section, giving smoky deepthroat blowjobs to the boys, and blowing smoke into the girls’ cunts so they looked as if they were on fire. Riley played her anal chav role to the fullest, gaping her anus extravagantly whilst reciting an endless stream of arrant verbal filth. And Alison let all the girls take it in turns to get fucked by her auto-dildo. But it was Claire who was the superstar of the day, smearing birthday cake, pink icing and double cream into her face, nipples and pussy before letting the others eat it off. Bradley was clearly particularly taken with Claire’s display, fucking her cake-filled cunt vigorously whilst Riley and Eva sucked her tits clean. And Alison made sure to use her auto-dildo to acquaint herself with Eva’s newly-discovered gape, exclaiming all the time, “Oh Jesus, boys, is this really what it’s like fucking ass? You are so lucky!”

But it was as Alison was fucking Eva, and Bradley’s cock was exploring the squelchy depths of Claire’s cake-clogged pussy, and Harriet was using Riley’s gape for some smoke-ring target practice, and Darren and Joe were giving Angie an upside-down hand-standing DP, that their glorious communal ecstasy was suddenly interrupted by an ear-splitting crash. The large window which looked out towards the park shattered and collapsed inwards, glass spraying everywhere. “What the fuck?” screamed Claire, wiping icing from her face so as to be able to see better what had happened. There was general panic, with much screaming and swearing, as they all retreated towards the door. It was a few seconds before the dust settled and Darren noticed what had caused the damage: a large stone – clearly thrown through the window – now lying on the floor in the middle of the room, with a piece of paper wrapped around it.

Darren walked slowly forward and picked up the stone, unwrapping the paper and looking at it.

To Miss Eva Daniels,

he read.

“What on earth?” said Eva, reaching out for the note. She unfolded it and slowly read out:

Eva, I’m so sorry. I need to speak to you. Please can you meet me on the bench opposite the bandstand in the park, today at about 4 p.m. I am so sorry for being so horrible to you. But this is an emergency. I am in trouble. I’m desperate. Please please help me.

Eva gasped, as she read the signature:

Chad

“Dickhead…” muttered Alison. “What the fuck does he want?”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
AND THEY FELT NO SHAME

The sun was setting on Alison’s birthday, as she, Eva and Claire sat on a bench in the park facing the empty bandstand – waiting. It was getting a little chilly on this autumn evening, so most of the outdoor fucking activity of the day was winding up – apart from one solitary couple about fifty yards away on another bench. They were both dressed in tight black leather, but the man’s cock jutted though his fly, and he was doggy-fucking his partner through an unzipped flap in the rear of her trousers.

“Thanks for coming with me, guys,” said Eva, as she sat, nervously looking around and up and down the path.

“Well, we’d never leave you alone with that dickhead,” said Claire, not making any attempt to disguise the contempt in her voice. “Who the fuck does he think he is, summoning you out here to meet him?”

“I don’t know, Claire: he sounds like he’s in trouble,” said Eva, her brow furrowed as she studied the crumpled note over and over.

“Well, serve him fucking right!” replied Claire. “After the way he treated you – and Alison. If he’s left the RAF and is working at that Hospice place, then he’s got what he wanted, hasn’t he? Well, what he fucking deserves, anyway… What’s he got to complain about to you?”

In the distance, Alison could just see the man in black now kneeling behind his partner, his face pressed up against her bare buttocks. “But it’s dirty, mistress!” his voice echoed across the grass.

“Then fucking clean it, slave!” shouted the woman, slapping the man’s bottom with a riding crop while pulling his head forward so that his face was buried in the cleft of her ass.

The girls giggled – but were cut short by a sharp whisper from a rhododendron bush behind them. “Eva!” it said.

Eva froze, fear etched on her face. Alison and Claire looked around.

“Eva!” came the voice again. Eva trembled and grabbed Alison’s hand, shifting toward the edge of the bench as if to get up. “Eva, I’m sorry, I need your help!” came the voice from the bush. Eva hesitated.

“Chad?” said Eva.

“Please don’t run away,” came Chad’s voice. Now Alison recognised him – but it wasn’t the voice which Alison remembered: arrogant, cocksure and cruel. Yes, it still sounded like Chad, but it sounded nervous, fearful, and sad – Chad cut down to size, Chad defeated.

Alison turned to look at the rhododendron. “Chad, what the fuck are you doing hiding in that bush? Come out if you’ve got something to say!”

“Don’t turn around, Alison, please. Then they’ll know I’m here: they’re probably watching. Just keep looking ahead as normal. Please listen, I need to talk to Eva.”

“Well, it doesn’t sound like Eva wants to talk to you. And who the fuck are ‘they’?

Chad ignored Alison’s question, but addressed Eva instead. “Eva… please listen to me. You’re the only person I can talk to. You’re my only… friend.” Chad pronounced the last word with such a level of despair that even Alison and Claire were beginning to feel worried.

“I was never your friend, Chad,” replied Eva angrily. “I was just your slut. And you treated me like shit. Now fuck off.” She got up again to leave.

“Eva, please don’t go, please, I beg of you, don’t go – I’m sorry, I know I’m a dickhead. I know I treated you like shit. And I’m… oh God, I’m so sorry…” The voice from the rhododendron was sounding desperate now. “Please help me. I need your help. I don’t think I can live with myself any longer. Please…” Chad’s voice broke, and all that could be heard now were soft, low sobs. This was Chad as Alison had never heard him before: broken, desperate, desolate.

Eva took a deep breath, before resuming her seat and saying, “What do you want, Chad?”

“I can’t explain it all now. If they see me talking to you, they’ll cull me. And if I spend too long here, they’ll miss me, and they’ll know I’ve been talking to someone. Is there anywhere we can meet in secret? Then I can explain everything. Please?”

Eva paused in thought, before saying, “Chad?”

“Yes?”

“Can you come tomorrow morning, Sunday?”

“Yeah… Not sure when I’ll be able to sneak away, but I’ll try. Where?”

“38B Tottenham Cunt Road. Knock twice on the green door. I’ll meet you there. I’ll be there from first thing in the morning. Come as soon as you can. But don’t let anyone see you.”

“I’ll be there. Thank you, Eva. Thank you!” There was a rustle in the bush, and then silence.

“Chad?” said Eva again. But he had gone.

It was getting dark – but from fifty yards away the leather-clad woman, now sat on her bench with her legs splayed and a large black dildo in her cunt, could be heard shouting, “Now, slave, fucking piss in my mouth while I jerk myself off!”

“Yes, mistress,” said the man, as he stood up, aiming his cock at her face. “As you say, mistress.”

The chilly November evening closed in. And the sun set.

~

“Who exactly is this young man, Eva?” asked Father Ambrose. It was the day after the encounter with Chad in the park, and Claire, Alison and Eva were in the chapel at number 38B, watching as the dark-skinned priest trimmed the altar candles after mass. Alison and Eva had both made some effort to dress modestly: Alison had even put on a pair of panties under her skirt. But Claire looked very out of place in a crotchless whole-body red fishnet outfit, which she was trying in vain to conceal under a transparent latex coat. She shuffled from foot to foot as she made a conscious effort not to look sexy – which was very difficult for her.

“He was a student at the RAF,” said Eva. But rumour has it that he was kicked out – uh, for attacking Alison here, actually – and is now working for the Princess Asshole Hospice.”

Father Ambrose grimaced. “Oh, I see. That place has a bit of a reputation, you know.” He moved across to a small Lady Altar, and began clearing away spent devotional lights.

“For what?” asked Claire, rather loudly. Aware how out of place she felt, she was making little attempt to disguise her dislike for Father Ambrose, his chapel, and all things religious.

“It is where all Undesirable illegals apprehended in the London area get sent. Your father was culled there, was he not, Eva?”

“Yes.” A shadow passed over Eva’s face.

“And this boy works there? And yet he wants your help? To do what?”

“I don’t know. But he sounded desperate. And the only safe place I could think of to meet him was here.”

Father Ambrose took a deep breath. “Of course you can meet him here, Eva. If he is in trouble – as he appears to be, then we must be here to help. Why don’t you and your friends wait here in the chapel, until he shows up?”

“Thank you, Father,” replied Eva. “Thank you.”

Father Ambrose smiled kindly and nodded. “I have some paperwork to do in my office. But I’ll come and join you as soon as he arrives,” he added reassuringly, as he left the chapel.

There was an awkward silence, as all three girls sat on separate front pews, partly facing each other, partly facing the altar. A small red lamp flickered above the tabernacle, an understated reminder of a Presence – which even Alison felt she could not entirely ignore. She shifted awkwardly, almost as if she felt watched. She closed her eyes, and the feeling became more clement. “Perhaps,” she thought, “not ‘watched’ so much as ‘watched over’… Fuck, this is heavy…”

Her introspection was interrupted by Claire. “This is so fucking boring, this place,” she complained, as she diddled her pussy-lips absent-mindedly. “Don’t they even have a screen so you can watch fuck-flicks?”

“Not in this kind of church, Claire,” replied Eva, smiling. “But if you’re feeling horny, why don’t you and Alison go outside and have a quick fuck?”

“Can we do it in the bathroom, like last time?” suggested Claire, helpfully.

“You know, Claire, best not,” Eva giggled. “It was kinda obvious that time!”

“Really?” replied Claire. “Okay, outside then. You wanna come, Alison? I brought a Mars bar: you could fuck me with it and then eat it out of my cunt!”

“Oh, that’s sweet, Claire,” replied Alison. “But why don’t you just go and jerk off on your own this time? I’d like to sit here a while.”

Claire looked disgruntled, but left, muttering under her breath. “What is it about this church? No one wants to fuck! Fucking weird, if you ask me…”

Eva and Alison sat, looking silently into the middle distance for a while, until Alison asked, “Is this where you came to church when you were a kid?”

“Yeah. My parents were married here. And they used to bring me and my brother here when I was tiny – though I don’t remember it from then. After my parents were exiled, Rob and I actually lived in the presbytery here. Father Ambrose agreed to take us in – until Rob was old enough to have a place of his own and look after me by himself.”

“That must have been hard.”

“Well, mentally maybe, but not physically. We lacked for nothing, and Ambrose is a kind man. The main challenge has been trying to join all of this up” – Eva gesticulated at the chapel, the altar, the tabernacle with its gently flickering light – “with the world of fucking outside. In here is a sanctuary of peaceful, self-sacrificial Love. Surrounding it is a whole world of hedonistic Pleasure. It’s inevitable the Pleasure, the fucking, will win. It’s just louder…”

“Yes, but beyond all that is another World!” replied Alison. “Love comes from Beyond. Remember what you told me, Eva: God is Love!”

Eva looked at Alison quizzically. “No ‘vert’ like a convert, eh, Al? You don’t really believe that now, do you?”

Alison paused, deflated. “I don’t know… But I wish it was true,” she sighed. “I wish there were somewhere I could escape to, where my self-worth didn’t depend upon how well I fuck, how many dicks I can fit in my ass, how much cum I can eat…”

“Well, there is the Outside World, remember? My parents lived there for years. My brother and my mother are there now.”

At the mention of Rob, a flash of unexpectedly happy reminiscence came over Alison. “How’s Rob doing? You know, I never understood him before – but sitting here, thinking about the things Father Ambrose said to me, about sacrifice, and giving things up for the people you love… well, shit, I guess I feel a bit bad for him – I…”

Eva waited. Alison swallowed, and finished her sentence: “… I feel sorry for him, and grateful. He did a really kind thing for me.”

There were tears in Eva’s eyes. “That’s a nice thing to say, Al,” she said. And now there were tears in Alison’s eyes as well.

Down the corridor, they heard a pair of rapid but quiet knocks at the front door. Eva stood up, alarm sweeping across her face as she wiped her tears away and steeled herself. They heard the front door being opened and shut, and shortly thereafter the chapel door opened, and in came Father Ambrose, with Chad.

Eva and Chad looked at each other, Eva’s face hardened but trembling. Chad looked, Alison thought, as she had never seen him before: dejected, humiliated, broken. His eyes were bloodshot, and his skin was pale.

“I’m so sorry, Eva,” he said.

Eva paused. “What do you want of me now?” she asked, in a tone which – whilst unmistakeably accusing – masked, Alison thought, a deep vulnerability.

“I know what you must think of me, Eva,” said Chad, eyes downcast. “I treated you like shit. I’ve treated everyone like shit. I thought I was better than everyone else – but actually I’m a total dickhead. And I’ve got nobody to blame but myself.”

“Come, Chad, let’s sit down together and talk this through,” said Father Ambrose. The four of them sat apart from each other in the front pews, as the priest asked, “What’s happened to you, Chad, to cause all this distress? I understand you are working at Hildegard’s hospice – is that right? That’s a prestigious place: very few people are chosen to work there…”

“Which is why I accepted the job,” said Chad, his lower lip trembling as he spoke. “I thought I was the best: the best fucker, with the biggest dick – oh sorry,” Chad interrupted himself awkwardly.

“Don’t worry, Chad,” reassured the priest.  I’ve heard plenty of language before – just tell me, in your own words.”

“Okay, well yeah, anyway, they flattered me, told me I would be headed for the top if I became one of their fuckers – promised me loads of money, and loads of sex; and there’s this nurse there, see – Nurse Datchet – and she… Well, I fell for it, hook, line and sinker.”

“And are you not headed for the top? Did you not get ‘loads of sex’?” asked Father Ambrose.

“Oh yeah, sure,” scoffed Chad, his voice laced with bitterness. “But the price is, I’ve become a murderer.”

Alison gasped. Eva grimaced ruefully. Father Ambrose looked unsurprised. “You are asked to cull a lot of people, then?” he asked.

“I knew I would have to do that, Father. But I thought culling was always voluntary under Enlightenment law – you know, suicide drafts and things like that. Now I know that behind closed doors, we just kill people. And that Hospice is where it happens. Hundreds, thousands of people, duped, coerced, imprisoned – and murdered. I have to do it too: innocent people – not just unwilling overagers, but young adults and children too – Undesirables, Objectors, illegals – parents with their families even. They don’t get a trial, they just get sent to us – like your father was, Eva – and we just mow them down. They scream, they cry, they whimper, they beg – but we just mow them down. By the end of each day my brain echoes with their voices pleading for mercy, I feel them scrabbling at my feet, I stink of blood – oh, the blood, the blood!” Chad howled, as he stood. “I have become a monster, Father – not just an arrogant fool, but a monster. Oh God, what do I do?!” Chad broke down, collapsing to his knees on the tiled floor, hard sobs pouring agonisingly from his breast.

Eva looked at Chad, an expression of forlorn pity on her face such as Alison had never seen before, one hand involuntarily reaching out toward him. Chad looked up at her. “Eva, you always knew I was bad. I don’t know how you put up with me, the way I treated you – and that was just the tip of the iceberg. I must be bad through and through. You did well to escape from me when you did. I am so, so sorry…” Chad’s voice cracked, and he wept again, not even bothering to cover his face. It was as if there was no shame left for him to hide.

“Chad…” said Father Ambrose slowly, “I have two things to say. First – there is no such thing as ‘bad through and through’. Your identity does not subsist in what you have done. It lies in the One who made you, and who gave you His image and likeness. Your actions have sullied the likeness, but it cannot efface His image. You are good through and through. But you need to stop doing these terrible things.”

“But how, Father? How can the Hospice be stopped?”

“The Hospice stopped? It cannot be. I know that place, and I know the woman who runs it. None of this is new. The government turns a blind eye – because it is convenient. So it is pointless going to any authorities for help.”

“So what do I do? How can I escape? Because if I can’t, I…”

“I can help you escape, Chad. To the Outside World.”

“What?” gasped Chad. Eva covered her mouth in shock.

“It is the only place you will be safe. If you stay in the Union, they will track you down eventually. And then you too will be sent to hospice.”

“But… but….” Chad fumbled for words, trembling.

“I know it is hard. But it is your only hope. I have helped others this way before – including members of Eva’s family. So, sit down, and let me explain what I can do for you…”

~

It was late afternoon, and the last rays of sunlight piercing the small rose window high above the altar were beginning to fade. Alison and Claire had gone home, and Father Ambrose had returned to his study. Eva and Chad sat a few feet apart from each other on a front pew in the chapel.

“Eva, I don’t deserve your kindness.”

“I know. But that’s okay. That’s one thing I learnt here, Chad – but have too often forgotten: we don’t get what we deserve. We get what we are granted. And the one thing you and I have in common is that we are damaged goods – no, hear me out, Chad – we are both full of shit, and anger, and hatred, and lust for vengeance: me as much as you, otherwise I’d never have become your slut, never played all your cruel games, never hurt so many people like I have. But here I learnt that sometimes we receive mercy. We receive Love. That is something we can never earn.”

“Love?” replied Chad, incredulously. “Is there such a thing? I’ve never met it. All my life it’s just been pleasure, pleasure, Pleasure. And as soon as the pleasure stops, then comes the pain. As long as I can remember, life has been about avoiding the pain at all costs.”

“I am the same, Chad. And look where it has got us. Now we are both alone, abandoned, wounded.” Eva paused, looking up at the light dying through the rosette window. “Maybe we can help each other, hey?” She slid carefully along the pew towards Chad, put one hand on his shoulder, and smiled.

“Eva, I don’t know what to say. Everything I say is wrong, is cruel.”

“Then say nothing.” Eva put her arms gently around Chad and held him, long and tight. And Chad wept, loud hard sobs which echoed around the chapel as if he was howling out all the pain and humiliation he had ever felt in his life – as if all the cruelty he had ever perpetrated was piercing his very soul. And Eva wept too, knowing that their sins, for worse or for better, were shared.

~

The sun had set, and Father Ambrose heard a knock at his office door. “Father Ambrose! Father Ambrose!” A dark-skinned nun poked her head around the door.

“What is it, Sister Rina?” said the priest.

The nun’s dark bewimpled face crumpled in confusion. “I don’t know what to say, Father. Those two young people you left in the chapel – they’re, they’re… Oh, Lord have mercy, Father, I hardly know what to say! They’re… ‘fucking’!”

Father Ambrose raised his eyebrows, and smiled. He thought for a while, before saying, “Good.”

“Good?! But Father, surely – surely that’s sinful, isn’t it? And in a chapel too, before the tabernacle – surely that’s sacrilege!”

Father Ambrose thought. “Yes, Sister. It is sinful. And sacrilegious.”

“But what are you going to do?!”

“Nothing, Sister. No, no, let me explain. Those two young people are damaged and confused. They have never known, but are just beginning to realise, what freedom there is in the One who is Love Himself.”

“Yes, but Father, surely – this cannot be allowed!”

“Allowed? No… But tolerated? Perhaps yes… Come, let us have a little look together, Sister…”

Father Ambrose and Sister Rina tiptoed down the corridor to the door of the chapel and peeked inside. It was now almost completely dark. The candlestands and altar cloth had been removed from the altar and placed neatly on the retable. The only light came from the flickering red tabernacle lamp, which was just enough to softly illuminate two lithe young bodies quietly making love on the altar. Chad was lying on his back, his huge cock erect, as Eva squatted over him, slowly sliding her pussy up and down his shaft, her large breasts dangling and swinging in his face, her piercings glinting red with reflected light. They were gazing into each other’s faces with tearful delight.

Sister Rina gasped in shock, turning away as she clasped her hand over her mouth. Father Ambrose watched for just a few seconds, then turned and shut the chapel door quietly. “You see, Sister – the Enlightenment tore Eva away from her loving parents, taught her to abandon commitment and self-sacrifice at the altar of Pleasure. Young people have grown used to seeing each other’s bodies merely as a means to staunch the pain of their loveless existence. Yet now – look at them – they are discovering for the first time the joy of self-giving. They are realising that all that ‘fucking’ they’ve been doing all their lives is just the shadow, pointing to the true Love who beckons from Beyond. And if that realisation strikes them on the altar of the One who gives all and who loves all – well then, perhaps, He is smiling this evening…”

Father Ambrose paused. “Come, Sister, we will be late for vespers…”

And on the altar, under the flickering red light of the Blessed Sacrament, a new mysterion was being consecrated. For, as Chad released his seed deep into Eva, they both recognised something they had never recognised before – something utterly new, but old as Creation itself:

“This is now bone of my bones
and flesh of my flesh.”

And they felt no shame.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
ASS PORRIDGE AND FREEZING TITS

“Okay, m’ cunt, guys, are we all ready?” It was dawn, and outside the window a drear misty late-November morning was beginning to break, as Alison and her friends gathered in her room at Fuckers’ Hall.

“Check!” they all chorused.

“Okay, let’s go through it. Riley, are you and your friends clear about what’s happening?”

“Yeah, I’m meetin’ ‘em at Oxfuck Circus at eight. From there, we’ll be able to see Chad comin’. Chad will turn norf towards All Cunts Langham Place, then weave ‘is way frough the backstreets. If the minders are followin’, Teresa, Amber and Belle will intercept ‘em ‘ere,” – Riley pointed at a map she was holding – “but if that fails, I’ll do me arse fing ‘ere, so Chad can escape this way and arrive at Tott’m Cunt Road ‘ere. Can’t fail.”

“Great,” said Alison. “Claire and Brad?”

“We’ll be stationed on Tottenham Cunt Road, opposite the church,” replied Brad, “keeping our eyes skinned for trouble. If anything untoward happens, we’ll cross and knock four times on the green door.”

“Good. Eva?”

“I’ll go with you straight to number 38B to wait for Chad. The service is scheduled for ten. Rob will be waiting with the hearse.”

“Right. Any questions, anyone? No? Okay, let’s fuck ass!”

~

Half an hour later, Teresa, Amber, Belle and Riley were standing at the corner of Oxfuck Circus, dressed in their school uniforms: white blouses, short plaid skirts and matching ties – shivering in the damp mist. It was quiet and deserted, except for the occasional street cleaner in the distance, clearing up the debris from the street revelries of the night before: discarded anal beads, cock-rings, empty lube bottles. Riley had a pair of binoculars, and was peering through them along Oxfuck Street in the direction of Marble Arse.

“Why can’t he just fuckin’ phone us when he leaves?” grumbled Teresa, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet to keep herself warm.

“‘Coz apparently they confiscate your phone if you work as a fucker at the ‘Ospice. To stop ya escapin’.”

“Is it such a terrible place?” asked Amber, as she touched up her bright red lipstick. “Must be fun suckin’ all those dicks before watchin’ ‘em croak,” she giggled. “Imagine!”

“I fink the problem is, they don’t all want ta ‘croak’,” replied Riley. “Apparently, Chad’s ‘ad ta bump off a lot of people against their will, ya know? Doin’ ‘is ‘ead in, ‘e says.”

“I guess it would,” Belle chipped in, adjusting her very large tits under her blouse. “So why are we wearin’ these on a Sunday mornin’?” she said, indicating their skirts and ties.

“‘Coz we might need to fuck these three guys, Chad’s minders: if they notice ‘im leavin’, they might follow. We’ve got to delay ‘em. And guys get turned on by school uniforms.”

“Fuckin’!” squealed Teresa.

“Yeah, but watch out. These guys are mean. They kill people for a livin’. They killed Eva’s dad. So be careful. Stick to fuckin’. We’re ‘ere to delay ‘em, so they lose Chad – that’s all. And fuck, look, I can see ‘im comin’,” Riley said, peering through her binoculars.

“Is ‘e being followed?” asked Amber.

“Can’t tell yet – too misty… Oh yeah, oh fuck, yeah, ‘e is. Three big blokes followin’ fifty yards behind. That’s them. Right, fucktion stations, girls – let’s go!”

~

Five minutes later, Teresa, Amber and Belle were standing in front of All Pussies Margaret Street, a large Victorian Gothic church. The air stank slightly of rubbish from the bins awaiting collection on the pavement. Chad walked past briskly, studiously ignoring the girls. A few seconds later, three large, hunky, handsome men emerged from the mist, clad in identical black lycra, their jaws set in brainless determination as they followed their prey.

Belle was the first to move forward, unbuttoning her blouse as she stood in their path. “Hi guys,” she crooned, licking her lips, shaking her soft blonde bob seductively, and turning sideways on so that the full glory of her large breasts was on display. “You wanna ‘ave some fun?”

The three fuckers stopped, instantly mesmerised by the sight. One of them guffawed stupidly, “Nice tits, love. But you couldn’t handle all three of us! Move over.”

“Oh, but I have some friends ‘ere,” said Belle, as Amber and Teresa emerged from the shadows. “And we’re really good at suckin’ cock, aren’t we, girls?”

“Yeah, fuckin’ brilliant,” agreed Amber. “I can take ten inches all the way down me fuckin’ froat – and I like cum over all my face. Wanna try me, guys?”

“And I like DPs,” Teresa chipped in. “Come on guys, wanna fuck all me ‘oles at once?”

“We can give ya all a good time!” said the sexy threesome, turning around, hitching up their skirts, and showing the three men a gorgeous view of three hot schoolgirl rumps in a row, their pretty shaven cunts peeping out from below, glistening, fragrant, irresistible.

One of the men, tall and hunky with short blond hair, had his cock out already – at least eight inches long and stiff as a rod. “Suck it, then, bitch!” he ordered Amber. “But make it fucking quick – we’ve got a job to do, we have!” Amber turned round and fell immediately to her knees, wrapping her shiny red lips around the huge cock and swallowing it down to the balls in one go. “Oh fuck!” groaned the man, “she’s good, guys – you gotta try this!”

“Hang on, Baz,” said another of the men, “we’re supposed to following Chad. We can’t let him go.”

“Oh, come on, Gaz,” remonstrated Baz at his brown-haired companion, as Amber gagged noisily on his cock, releasing a flow of slimy spit which dribbled down her chin, soaking her white blouse. “What’s Chad gonna do? We’ve been following him every time he has time off: all he does is wander around and then come back to the Hospice. Hey, I said suck it, bitch!” Baz started to fuck Amber’s face hard and fast, pumping his cock mercilessly in and out of her throat and eliciting a rhythmic succession of obscene quacking noises from deep inside her gullet.

“I’m with Baz,” said the third man – as gorgeous and muscular as his companions, but with thick black hair. He too got his cock out, spanked Belle on her plump bottom, and slid his cock – slightly shorter than Baz’s, but thicker at the base – into her pussy from behind. “Oh fuck!” he too exclaimed, as he began to vigorously fuck her cunt, slapping her ass cheeks all the while so that the sound echoed between the buildings. “This slut’s amazing, Gaz. Come on, fuck her face: we can do a spitroast!”

“No, I’m going after Chad,” said Gaz. “Come on, guys, what’ll Hildy say if she finds out we’ve lost him?”

“Well, she’s not gonna fucking find out, is she?” said Baz, as he furiously fucked Amber’s face. His cock was rapidly becoming bright red from her lipstick, and her saliva glowed pink as it dangled from her chin and splashed onto her wet blouse.

“Come on, Gaz!” interrupted Teresa, spreading her ass-cheeks. “Put that cock of yours in me. Where d’ya wanna put it? What about my arse? D’ya like fuckin’ arse, Gaz?”

Gaz gazed longingly at Teresa’s young smooth buttocks, the scrumptiously damp cunt they framed, and her gently winking asshole. But then he mustered what must have been a superhuman feat of self-control, swore under his breath, turned on his heels, and ran off into the mist after Chad.

“Aw, thanks!” squealed Teresa in mock-umbrage, before turning back to the others. “Hey, Amber, can I share that cock?”

~

“Evie, you seem preoccupied,” said Alison. The morning was still misty, and they were walking briskly across the park in the direction of Tottenham Cunt Road.

Eva made no answer.

“Eva!”

“Hmmm? What? Oh sorry, Al – yeah, I guess I’m just thinking about today. I just… I hope it works.”

“Are you okay about Chad now? I mean, he was a serious turd to you. What’s made you change your mind about him – again?”

Eva sighed, and smiled. “Alison, maybe it’s not about changing my mind about him; maybe it’s about changing my mind about me…”

“Uh oh, the Undesirable philosopher has returned! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eva laughed. “Well, I first went with Chad because I thought I wasn’t worth any more than the way he was treating me. Then I left him because you taught me I was worth more. Now I am helping him to realise that he is worth more than he thinks. That is the lesson I should have learnt from my parents – and which Ambrose tried to teach me. It’s hard to remember that in the world we live in.”

“Will you miss him?”

Eva walked a few more steps in silence before answering, “No.”

“How come?”

“Well, Alison, what do you think?”

“What do you mean, ‘What do you think’? Will you miss him when he’s gone – when he’s left for the Outside World?”

“No, Alison, I won’t. Because I’m going with him.”

Alison screeched to a halt, her heart suddenly pounding harder than she had ever felt it. “What the fuck? You’re going with him? You’re leaving the Union? Oh my God, Eva, no! No! NO!”

Eva stopped and looked back at her horrified friend. “Why ‘no’?”

“Well,” Alison fumbled in desperation, “well, because your future is here. The future is here, in the Enlightened world. How can you go and live with all those savages, when here you could become the greatest fucker this country has ever known?!” She paused to mutter, “Shit, I sound just like my dad, don’t I?” before continuing: “But – but remember, Evie, your ambition is to suck cocks under boardroom tables in the City! What a great future you have ahead of you!”

“Alison, I know how it must seem like that to you, a privileged white girl, born with a silver dildo in your mouth – into the ‘Bates butts’ dynasty, no less. But you’ve seen how people like me get treated here. And, in our own strange way, Chad and I care about each other – because we are both casualties of this world.”

Tears filled Alison’s eyes. “But, baby, no, please no. I’ll miss you; I’ll miss you so much. Don’t leave me here. Please.” Alison stepped forward and held Eva tight. She felt their breasts squash together, felt Eva’s nipple piercings pressing into her through their clothing, felt Eva’s wild afro hair brushing against her face, smelt the soft dawn scent of her just-washed body.

“You’ve got so many other people here, Alison,” replied Eva. “What about Claire? and Brad? and your parents? I have no family or friends here anymore. If I leave, I’ll be with my mother, and my brother. And – I know you find this hard to believe – Chad is the only person outside my family ever to really love me. I know he’s a dickhead sometimes; but he loves me.”

“I love you, Eva.” said Alison, as she pulled the black girl even tighter towards her, kissing her softly on her lips and face. “I’ll always love you. You have taught me so much.”

Alison and Eva stood in the damp chilly mist and hugged each other tight. For a long time.

And then Eva said, “Hey, we’ll be late. Come on…”

And they continued on their way – slightly slower this time, hand in hand, tears streaming down both their faces.

~

Gaz ran swiftly, determined to catch up with Chad. “It’s all right for you two dickheads,” he muttered to himself, “you’re not on fucking probation. If Hildy finds out I’ve lost Chad, she’ll…”

Gaz came to a junction, and stopped in indecision. “Fuck, which way did he go?” he muttered, peering in vain into the mist.

“Can I ‘elp ya?” came a voice. It belonged to yet another schoolgirl in uniform, who emerged from behind a skip. She had long silver-blond hair, and had unbuttoned her blouse so that her tie dangled seductively between her pert exposed tits.

“Yeah, did you see a man coming this way? Hunky guy, big cock?”

“Yeah, I did,” replied the girl in sultry tone of voice, “and it looks like ‘e’s ‘ere right now…”  She moved forward, reaching out to stroke Gaz’s face with long soft fingers. “I like good-lookin’ ‘unks like you,” said the girl, “‘specially if they’ve got biiiig dicks. Ya got a big dick, boy? Wanna fuck my arse?” She pirouetted round, her short plaid skirt flaring to expose her buttocks, which she then pulled apart to display an asshole the likes of which Gaz had never seen before. It gaped and glistened; it quivered and pulsated; it opened and closed rhythmically, as if it were panting, begging, desperate to be filled. Gaz stared, enraptured and entranced. All thoughts of Chad, and his job, evaporated. Suddenly, this asshole was his whole world – and his cock wanted it.

“What’cha waitin’ for, ‘unky stud? Fink ya can fill up me arse wiv ya big cock?”

Gaz released his throbbing member from his black lycra trousers and began to stroke it. The asshole continued to pulsate and quiver in front of him. Compared to his colleague fucker-executioners in the Princess Asshole Hospice, Gaz considered himself a touch more cultured than the usual – indeed, a bit of a connoisseur. Half Italian – his full name was Garibaldi Eccles – he felt that he had inherited an artiste’s eye for beauty from his Italian pole-dancer mother, and an Englishman’s appreciation of class from his father (he even had got an ‘A’ in his Anal ‘A’-level). And Gaz felt he had never seen anything more beautiful or classy than this asshole. Before being fucked, it needed to be properly worshipped. Gaz knelt down and, still stroking his cock, began to kiss between the girl’s pair of soft white buttocks. He inhaled the rich, pungent scent of early-morning teenage ass, tasted the beads of natural GM lube which glistened around the rim of the perfectly round, smooth rectal cauldron. He snaked his tongue inwards and began to circle it around, revelling in the divine sensory overload which greeted his tongue. “Yeah, boy, eat that fuckin’ shithole,” Riley encouraged him. “You like the taste, stud? It ‘at a yummy breakfast? You like tastin’ me ass-porridge, ‘unky boy? What about stirrin’ it around, stud? What about stickin’ your fuckin’ white pudding in there?”

Gaz needed no further prompting. He stood up, took aim, and slid into Riley’s ass. His GM cock was huge – a good nine inches long and thick as the girl’s wrist – but it flowed effortlessly into her gape, his swollen balls slapping against her perineum. “Oh yeah, big boy, that’s good!” squealed the girl. “You fuck that fuckin’ shit-cunt with your big fuckin’ dick! Lemme feel ya all the fuckin’ way in. Fuck me arse so fuckin’ ‘ard it comes out me fuckin’ froat, boy!”

Gaz was powerless to do anything else. He had fucked a lot of ass in his not-very-long life – but this was something out of this world: an asshole which sucked, caressed, and slobbered over his cock. “Oh yeah, babe,” he moaned, “your asshole’s so amazing, it’s like it’s giving me a fucking blowjob!”

“Hey, you want a real blowjob then, ‘unky boy?” shouted Riley. “Let me taste that shithole-flavoured dick, let me suck all the cum out of ya. Go on, fuck my face like you’re fuckin’ my arse!”

Gaz pulled out, leaving Riley’s asshole momentarily gaping to the sky, before she spun round and knelt down in front of him. His gleaming pungent cock plunged into her throat, and she began to quack and gurgle under the assault of his stiff member. Soon, geysers of throat-slime were erupting from her face and slithering down her chin and onto her tits. And it was not long before Gaz groaned, pulled his cock out and began to jerk it over Riley’s slimy face.

Cum poured out of Gaz’s cock in great spurts, plastering Riley’s face so that her features were all but obscured in a slimy glaze of semen and spit. “Oh yeah, fuck yeah!” Riley squealed, eyes ablaze. “Ruin me fuckin’ face wiv all ya fuckin’ cum, big boy. Make me look like a fuckin’ slut, wiv all ya cock-snot all over me fuckin’ face.” Gaz gazed down at his handiwork, and marvelled. Yes, he was a connoisseur, and this bitch was one of the filthiest, most beautiful fucksluts he had ever met – and, ironically, still more beautiful now that her beauty had been completely ruined by her cum-glazing. Riley blew little raspberries with the cum which coated her lips, then grinned – threads of gloop adorning her lips and teeth.

Gaz was in ecstasy – but was suddenly brought back to reality by the voices of his two companions as they pelted, breathless, round the corner and into view: “MAKE YOURSELF SCARCE, GAZ – HILDY’S ON HER WAY!”

“OH SHIT!” Gaz swore loudly.

“Where the fuck do we hide?” they all panicked.

“‘ERE, IN THE SKIP!” shouted Riley, pointing behind her. The three men grimaced. But then they heard the sound of a sports car screeching round the corner just a block away, and terror filled their faces. In desperation, they leapt into the dumpster, burying themselves deep into the piles of stinking rubbish bags, rotten food, soiled nappies, and sanitary waste.

“Cover us up!” they shouted desperately to Riley – who obliging piled yet more refuse on top of them so that they disappeared entirely from view. Riley giggled uncontrollably as she heard the three hospice fuckers retching and gagging from their foul-smelling refuge. “Quiet! She’ll ‘ear ya!” she whispered – as a silver Maserati screeched round the corner and halted in front of her.

There was a woman in the driving seat – tall, blond, with a square jaw, full red lips, and large tits, dressed in combat fatigues. “Where are they?!” she screamed at Riley.

“Where are ‘oo?” replied Riley nonchalantly, feigning innocence, as she slowly wiped Gaz’s cum off her face and began to lick it off her fingers.

“Three men! Three stupid, bone-headed dunderheads with big cocks and no brains! Following another numbskull fucking dickhead!”

“Didn’t see the firs’ one – but I saw three men runnin’ very fast that way.” Riley pointed in the opposite direction to the way Chad had gone.

Hildegard nodded, snarled, and screeched off round the corner, just as Teresa, Amber and Belle appeared out of the mist – semen dribbling down Belle’s leg, and Teresa and Amber sporting grinning cummy faces.

“Mission accomplished, girls!” Riley called out. And, turning to the skip, she muttered in an undertone, “Watch it, guys, she migh’ be back. I’d stay in there a bit longer if I was you. Maybe dig yourselves in a bit deeper…”

There was the sound of vomiting from deep inside the skip. Riley giggled mischievously.

~

“Everything’s ready,” said Father Ambrose to Eva and Alison, after they arrived at number 38B. “Your friends Claire and Bradley are keeping watch on the road outside. And I’m expecting your brother any moment now, Eva – ah, here he is!” There were two loud knocks on the front door, which echoed down the corridor into the chapel. “Rina will let him in.”

As Rob Daniels entered the chapel, dutifully genuflecting towards the tabernacle, Alison could not help but feel her heart leap. Somehow, his quiet, respectful attitude drew her admiration. And he looked very handsome, dressed in a black suit, frockcoat and top hat. She smiled, and as he grinned back at her with those twinkling eyes, she felt her heart flutter. This was not the first time her heart had fluttered like this: it was a flutter of profound yearning, yearning for something greater, more important, more lasting than a mere damn good fuck. Rob’s eyes caught hers again – and behind the twinkle she felt that she discerned something mutual, something special – a common feeling, a shared hope perhaps…

Rob looked deep into Alison’s eyes and paused, before turning away to embrace his sister, and then to survey the chapel. “Ah, there’s the coffin!” he exclaimed. “Is it big enough?”

“I got the biggest I could find,” said Ambrose. “Better safe than sorry! Have you got the vehicle?”

“Out the front, all ready,” Rob grinned.

~

From their vantage point across the road, Claire and Bradley had seen Rob pull up in a long black hearse, get out, and enter number 38B. “This is so fucking boring,” moaned Claire. “And cold,” she added, shivering slightly in the morning mist.

Bradley said nothing, but smiled, stood behind Claire, and wrapped his arms around her.

“Oh, that’s good, Brad,” crooned Claire. “I’d love a fuck. Think we could go inside where it’s warmer? Don’t feel like freezing my tits off here.”

“We’re supposed to be standing guard, remember,” said Brad. “But if you want to go inside to jerk off, I’m sure I can hold the fort.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot… No, that wouldn’t be fair. Besides, they don’t like me rubbing off in there: apparently I’m too noisy – disturb their praying or whatever the fuck they do… But hey, can you reach under my coat and frig me off? That’ll warm me up!

“Sure thing,” said Bradley with his usual good humour. He reached downwards and under the hem of Claire’s transparent latex coat, finding her pussy with practised ease, and began to gently rub her clit. It was still early in the morning, and there were few pedestrians on Tottenham Cunt Road. The occasional passer-by muttered a cursory “cock,” or “pussy” as they went about their business. Bradley silently mused at how touching it was that even in a city as large as London, streets could become friendly places when deserted in the early morning.

“Stick a finger in there, Brad,” moaned Claire, as she turned her head and extended her tongue towards his face. Bradley reciprocated, letting their tongues tangle and entwine in their shared oral space, as he slid the middle finger of his right hand deftly downwards, curling it into Claire’s pussy and tickling upwards along the inside of her slippery walls towards her sensitive spot.

“Oh fuck, that’s good, Brad,” panted Claire. “You really know how to warm me up, don’t you?”

Bradley replied, as always, with action rather than text, using his right thumb to continue to rub Claire’s clit, whilst two fingers slid smoothly in and out of her cunt. At the same time, his left hand reached up under her coat from behind, found the cleft between her buttocks, and began to gently tickle her tight starfish. “You remember the first time I did this to you?” Brad smiled.

“I do,” replied Claire. “That night Chad and Eva were treating you like shit, but me and Al convinced you you were the best fucker in – oh fuck, that’s good, Brad, stick your fingers in me, front and back, go on!”

“You sure?” asked Bradley solicitously.

“Slowly – but yeah…” groaned Claire, as Bradley’s right hand reached under Claire’s perineum to smear cunt-juice on her tight rosebud. Then, as his right hand returned to her pussy – three fingers in now – his left middle finger gently pushed into her tight lubricated asshole from behind.

“Oh fuuuuuuck!” squealed Claire, as she felt herself speared from both ends – her asshole tightly clenching Bradley’s gently exploring left middle digit, while his right thumb stroked her clit and three fingers massaged her G-spot. “You’re gonna make me come, Brad, you’re gonna make me fucking come,” squealed Claire. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, OH FUCK!” Her cries echoed through the slowly clearing mist, up and down Tottenham Cunt Road, as both pussy and asshole clenched rhythmically around Bradley’s fingers.

“Can I suck your cock now?” Claire panted, as she came down from her orgasm, licking the fingers of both of Bradley’s hands clean. But Bradley had no opportunity to reply, for he suddenly caught sight of Chad exiting a side-street and running, as fast as he could, towards number 38B. Without hesitation, Bradley ran across the road, knocked twice, and the door swung open.

Chad stopped on the doorstep. “Quick, in,” said Bradley.

“Uh…” Chad paused, panting, looking as if he wanted to say something.

“Quick!” said Bradley, “You don’t want to be seen.”

“Brad…” said Chad, tentatively, breathlessly.

Bradley looked up quizzically into Chad’s face.

“Thanks, Brad. I… I really appreciate what you’re doing for me.”

“That’s okay,” said Bradley.

“And… and I’m really sorry for how I’ve treated you.”

Bradley nodded. “Forget it,” he said. “But now, in – quick!”

The door shut, and Bradley was left on the pavement, smiling in quiet contented thought.

Claire yelled from across the road: “Hey, can I suck your cock already?”

~

“Welcome, Chad,” said Father Ambrose. They were standing in the chapel, with Alison and Rob. “Are you ready for this?”

“Yes, Father,” said Chad, his face grave but determined. “You heard my confession last weekend. I can’t continue to live the kind of life I have here.”

Father Ambrose nodded. “God bless you, Chad.”

“Thank you, Father,” said Chad. He walked over to the dais where the coffin sat, lifted the lid, and climbed in.

Ambrose turned to Eva. “Eva, is there something you want to tell me?” he smiled.

“How do you know, Father?” said Eva.

Ambrose laughed knowingly. “Remember, I knew your grandparents, and your parents, and I know your brother – and I know that even the might of the Enlightenment cannot snuff out the flame of Love.” The tabernacle lamp continued to flicker gently above the altar. “Go on then, in you get: I got the largest one I could find – for just such a possibility!”

Eva grinned from ear to ear, and started to climb into the coffin alongside Chad – who sat up in surprise. “What’re you doing?” he asked.

“Coming with you,” smiled Eva.

“What? Oh no, no no, you mustn’t do that, Eva!” he replied incredulously.

“Why not?” asked the black girl.

“Because… because I’ll be all right,” said Chad. “And what about you? Your whole future’s here. You’re going to be a great fucker, remember? You’re gonna suck all those City cocks. Just because I fucked it up doesn’t mean you have to throw your life away. I’ve hurt you enough, Eva – I don’t need to hurt you more!”

“Chad,” said Eva. “I’m really touched that you said that. It shows that Father Ambrose is right: ‘This is love: not that we loved God, but that He loved us.’ I’m coming with you.” She kissed Chad gently on the forehead and lay down beside him. Father Ambrose and Rob lifted up the lid, placed it over the coffin, and clipped it shut. Rob smiled, tapping the lid affectionately.

Alison stood and watched, her eyes stinging, as the congregation began to file slowly into the chapel.

CHAPTER NINETEEN:
MAKE LOVE TO ME

Outside number 38B Tottenham Cunt Road, any parishioner arriving for the advertised Requiem mass that Sunday morning might have noticed a young couple standing guard on the opposite side of the road. Actually, only one of them was standing; the other was kneeling on the pavement in front of him, sucking his cock.

Bradley gazed down at Claire, her head bobbing slowly back and forth, tongue twisting and slobbering, lips alternately squeezing and releasing, her saliva forming a continuous dangling dribble which swung backwards and forwards from his shaft. He smiled. And then he said something which he had never said before to anyone in his life: “You pleasure me, Claire… You pleasure me.”

Claire paused and looked up, a large spit bubble poised, stretched between her lips and Bradley’s glans. She opened her lips in a wide grin – and the bubble popped. “You pleasure me too, Brad,” she replied – and blushed, before doing something utterly unheard of: she willingly interrupted a blowjob. Claire slowly stood up, a long dribble briefly connecting her mouth with Bradley’s cock, before it stretched too far and snapped. And then she kissed him. But this was not a fuckers’ kiss, full of filthy lust and thrashing tongues; this was tender, sensitive. This was a lovers’ kiss.

Bradley felt it too, as their lips gently caressed each other’s ears, cheeks, necks. And when their lips met, something passed silently between them. Bradley did not dare say it: that would have been too much for a well brought-up, conscientious, Enlightenment lad like him. And Claire, though already more of a rebel, did not voice it, out of tender concern for him. But they both knew something had changed. And as they wrapped their arms around each other and hugged, almost as if holding on for dear life, it was clear to both of them – without having said it – that after today, around them nothing would be quite the same.

~

Inside 38B Tottenham Cunt Road, Father Ambrose was chanting the introit:

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord,
and let perpetual light shine upon them.

The priest censed and asperged the casket, as the chapel gradually filled with mourners, old and young, mainly Asian or black – the normal collection of old-style believer Undesirables. They bowed to the coffin and knelt dutifully at their pews. Sister Rina genuflected, kneeling reverently in the front row, surrounded by the other sisters of her order. She turned to Alison with a wry half-grin. Alison sat in a back pew, shaking alternately with sorrow and with mirth. “This is crazy,” she muttered to herself, “absolutely fucking bonkers!”

Dark am I, yet lovely, daughters of Jerusalem,
dark like the tents of Kedar,
like the tent curtains of Solomon.
Do not stare at me because I am dark…

Father Ambrose was reading from his Bible – but it wasn’t the usual funeral texts. Judging by the cheeky half-smile on his face, he seemed to be enjoying his subterfuge.

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth –
for your love is more delightful than wine…
No wonder the young women love you!

The occupants of the coffin seemed to be taking the priest’s scripture readings literally. From beneath the casket lid could be heard the soft sound of smooching and slurping.

“Oh fuck,” whispered Alison to herself. “Here we go again.” But Father Ambrose, a gentle smile fixed on his face, continued unperturbed:

You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride,
with one glance of your eyes.
How much more pleasing is the fragrance of your perfume than any spice!

“Yeah, I fucking bet it is,” giggled Alison under her breath. The muffled amatory soundtrack from within the coffin was getting more insistent: moans and sighs, punctuated with the occasional whispered “oh yeah” or “oh fuck…” Sister Rina and the rest of the congregation maintained their poker faces with studied concentration. Father Ambrose continued to smile inscrutably as he read:

Your lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb, my bride;
milk and honey are under your tongue.
You are a garden fountain,
a well of flowing water streaming down from Lebanon.

“I know what else is under your tongue,” thought Alison, guffawing internally whilst trying in vain to keep a straight face, as Ambrose read on:

Your breasts are like clusters of fruit.
I will take hold of the fruit.
May your breasts be like clusters of grapes on the vine,
and your mouth like the best wine.

“Shit, are you fucking joking?!” muttered Alison. From within the casket could be hear the muffled sound of sucking and squealing, punctuated by mumbled phrases such as: “oh yeah, suck my tits…” or “lick those fucking nipples, baby”. The casket was beginning to rock and jiggle – and yet the congregation kept straight faces.

I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride;
I have gathered my myrrh with my spice.
I have eaten my honeycomb and my honey;
I have drunk my wine and my milk.

“Oh yeah, fuck me baby,” came Eva’s muffled squealing voice from within. “Yeah, fill me up with that big dick…” The thumps and bumps from the coffin were getting louder and louder, as the casket rocked more violently on its dais.

You are altogether beautiful, my darling;
there is no flaw in you.
Come with me from Lebanon, my bride,
 come with me!

Eva and Chad seemed to be doing just that. The sounds of orgasmic ecstasy were unmistakeable now: “Oh motherfucking Jesus, you’re gonna make me come, Chad, oh FUUUUU–” came Eva’s voice from beneath the oak panelling, cut off – presumably – by Chad’s hand gently placed over her mouth to silence her. The congregation remained kneeling in prayer.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.

“Pssst!” Alison heard a whisper in her ear, and felt a hand gently touch her shoulder. She turned, to see Rob signalling to her to follow him. Briefly, Alison felt like resisting. But his eyes twinkled, and his grin was broad; Alison melted, and followed.

Rob led Alison up one stairway, along a corridor, and then up a metal spiral staircase which opened onto a small open-air roof-garden at the top of the building, facing the rear balcony of one of the surrounding office blocks. “Hey, fucking!” exclaimed Alison. “This is nice!” They stood side by side leaning against the low cast stone balustrade.

“I remember sneaking out of mass as a kid to come up here and chuck pebbles at the block opposite,” grinned Rob. “And after my parents were expelled and Eva and I were living here, we would amuse ourselves by jumping across onto the opposite balcony while holding hands. It terrifies me now to think about it. If either of us had fallen…” He pointed towards the ground. Looking down, Alison could see a set of cast-iron railings which formed the boundary between number 38B and the building opposite; a long row of lethal black metal spikes stuck upwards towards them. “And then,” continued Rob, “as I got older, the balcony opposite was a great place to sneak off for a quick fuck when Ambrose wasn’t looking…”

“He’s pretty fucking, for an old-style priest,” said Alison approvingly. “Love the funeral!”

Rob laughed. “I’m seen him conduct those mock-funerals before. It’s his favourite way of smuggling Undesirables out of the country. That way, when I drive the hearse onto the ferry this evening, I’ll have all the correct paperwork, and we won’t get stopped.”

Alison felt a sudden pang of regret. “Must you leave today?” she asked. It was all happening too fast for her liking. The shock of realising that Eva was leaving had made her forget that her time with Rob might be so short.

“‘Fraid so. Too dangerous for Chad to wait around any longer. And my mum can’t wait to see Eva again, for the first time in – oh God – so long…”

Alison paused, hoping Rob would say more. Partly because she didn’t know what to say in response, and partly because she was just enjoying hearing him talk.

“Shall we sit down?” said Rob, indicating a bench. Alison nodded.

They sat in silence, side by side. The weak winter sun was higher in the sky now, and was just peeping over the rooftops. From inside the building, the distant mumble of Father Ambrose’s liturgy continued.

Alison spoke first, cautiously. “I… I need to say…” She paused.

Rob waited.

“I mean, I should have said a long time ago, Rob: thank you. Thank you for being so kind to me. I didn’t know at the time, much less care, how… how loving you were being to me, when you took the hit for what happened between me and Eva.”

“Well, you’d done nothing wrong,” replied Rob.

“Okay, maybe – but you didn’t deserve exile, of all things.”

Rob sighed. “There are many things we don’t deserve in life, Alison. Especially for people my colour in a country like this. We’re used to taking all sorts of blows for each other. That’s love.”

“Love…” Alison tried to think – but instead spoke: “Yes, but to take a blow for your sister is one thing – but for me…?” Alison wanted to continue, to ask why – but she already knew the answer to that question – and Rob knew that she knew.

Alison paused. Rob waited.

“I’m sorry, Rob, that I was so awful to you – you know, that night –”

“In your room at Fuckers’ Hall?”

Alison nodded, pursing her lips and looking downward towards her feet. “You didn’t deserve how I spoke to you.”

“But you spoke the truth,” said Rob. “I behaved very unwisely.”

“But truthfully…” ventured Alison.

“Oh yes.”

Rob waited. He wanted to say more, but did not dare.

“Alison?” he said eventually.

“Yes,” said Alison. It sounded very final, the way she said it, even though she didn’t mean it to.

“What do you mean, ‘yes’?” replied Rob, a mixture of hope and alarm passing swiftly through him.

“I meant – just, ‘yes?’ What did you want to say?”

“Oh…” Rob paused. Alison waited.

“That night, Alison, I asked you a question. And you gave me your answer, I…”

Alison waited, trembling.

“I hardly dare say – but I feel the same way about you now as I did then. If you also still feel the same way you did in September, well… I’ll understand.”

Alison’s mind was full – too full to make any sense of it. Of course she didn’t feel the same way now as then! He knew that, and she knew that – she had just said it. But she knew that Rob, though in so few words, was saying more to her now than ever before. And she had not the words to respond.

She reached out and touched his hand. It was a modest gesture – possibly the most modest, understated physical gesture she had ever made in her life. And yet, it meant more than any other way she had ever touched a man before.

“If I stay here, will I ever see you again, Rob?”

“No, Alison. I am leaving the Union forever. I have to.”

Alison listened. That word, “forever”, echoed in her brain more painfully than she could ever have expected it to.

“In which case, Rob, I…”

“Yes, Alison?” said Rob, his face displaying the strange mixture of hope and pain which was coursing through his heart.

Rob waited. Alison paused.

“Rob, I…”

But Alison never got to finish her sentence, for at that moment there was the sound of a fast car screeching to a halt outside the front of the building, followed by a loud pounding on the front door of number 38B, which echoed through the building and up to the roof-garden. Rob leapt up.

“OPEN UP!!!” A woman’s voice, stentorian and arrogant, echoed through the building from the cat-flap. “YOU ARE HARBOURING A FUGITIVE! I INSIST YOU OPEN THIS DOOR TO ME NOW!!”

“Oh my God!” Alison gasped. “It’s her: she’s found us! Quick, downstairs!” The two of them leapt up, and clattered down the spiral staircase towards the chapel.

~

Claire and Bradley, still embracing on the pavement outside, had heard Hildegard Fotzenficker’s Maserati screech around the corner of Tottenham Cunt Road, and had watched in horror as she slammed her brakes on in front of number 38B and leapt out, her face incandescent with rage.

“Oh fuck,” Claire trembled. “What do we do now?” Bradley’s small but stiff cock was still poking out of his fly as they broke their amorous clinch to stare, aghast, as Hildegard began pounding on the green door across the road with a large truncheon and screaming through the cat-flap.

“Wait,” said Bradley with calm determination, as he took out his phone and began to swiftly dial a number, his cock still dangling out of his trousers. “Hi, Angie – it’s Brad. Yeah, the worst has happened: she’s found us. Time for emergency measures.”

Claire and Bradley watched as the green door was opened from within by a studiedly calm and smiling Sister Rina. Hildegard pushed her roughly aside with her truncheon, and barged in.

~

“WHERE IS HE?” bellowed Hildegard, as she strode into the chapel just ahead of Alison and Rob, brandishing her night-stick. “WHERE’S THAT FILTHY TREACHEROUS FUCKER?”

Alison gripped Rob’s hand, and watched as Father Ambrose, an expression of gentle benevolence fixed on his face, looked slowly up from his Bible, adjusted his glasses, turned to face Hildegard, held his finger up to his lips, and said firmly: “Sh…!” He continued to read from his Bible:

Love is as strong as death,
its jealousy unyielding as the grave.
It burns like blazing fire,
like a mighty flame.
Many waters cannot quench love;
rivers cannot sweep it away.

“BULL-FUCKING-SHIT!!!” screamed Hildegard at the priest. How dare you recite that filth at me, you dirty black freak?!”

There was a gasp from the congregation, and some of them stood up, turning their dark angry faces towards the interloper. But Hildegard stood her ground, arrogant, overbearing, full of the zeal of her own superiority, and repeated: “WHERE IS HE?”

Father Ambrose paused, clearly weighing up in his mind whether or not to lie, but was saved from that decision by a soft muffled sound coming from beneath the lid of the coffin. A squelch. Just a quiet squelch. If Hildegard had not been a fucker of such formidable talent and experience, she might not have noticed – but she had heard many such squelches before, and she recognised the sound of a large semi-flaccid cock being slowly withdrawn from a juicy cummy cunt. Suddenly she knew.

“HE’S HERE!” she screamed. “HE’S IN THE FUCKING COFFIN! OPEN IT UP AT ONCE! NOW!!!”

Father Ambrose knew he had lost. Despondently but calmly, he unclasped the lid of the casket. Hildegard reached forward and, with her considerable strength, flung the lid off the coffin and across the room, smashing a statue of the Madonna and Child which stood on the Lady Altar in the corner, and scattering devotional candles over the floor. Out of the coffin climbed a naked, flushed, dishevelled pair of lovers. What cum was not dribbling down Eva’s thigh was dripping off the end of Chad’s large but softening cock. Chad had his arms wrapped tightly around his dark-skinned beloved, as if determined to protect her from the monster who had interrupted their communion. But whilst Chad looked scared, Eva stared at Hildegard furiously, her dark face glowering with hatred.

But it was not Eva that Hildegard was after. Gesturing peremptorily to Chad, she said, “With me, boy. We’re going back to hospice – where you belong.”

Chad held on to Eva even tighter. “No,” he replied. “I’ve finished with your dirty business, Hildegard. Eva and I are leaving the Union together.”

“‘NO’? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN, ‘NO’?!” Hildegard roared. “I OWN YOU, BOY – BECAUSE YOU ARE A WORTHLESS DICK-BRAINED IDIOT, TOO STUPID EVEN TO MAKE IT AS A FUCKER IN CUNTSLICKER’S ROYAL FUCKING ACADEMY. WHO ARE YOU TRYING TO FOOL WITH THAT ACT? YOU ARE A PATHETIC LOSER! GET BACK TO HOSPICE, WHERE YOU BELONG – THEN I’LL SEE WHETHER YOU’RE EVEN WORTH KEEPING ALIVE!”

“Did someone mention my name?” came a commanding voice from the chapel door. Hildegard turned and gasped. Eva put her hand over her mouth in shock. Chad muttered “Oh my God!” as he saw who it was. For standing at the door – Claire, Bradley, Alison and Rob hovering behind her, was none other than Professor Emma Jane Cuntslicker.

Professor Cuntslicker did not look pleased. Whilst she had a short crop-top on which just about covered her tits, her lower half was naked, and her auto-dildo was still in, flaccid but huge, and dripping what looked like a combination of cunt-juice and auto-cum. She had clearly been interrupted mid-fuck, and had come out in a hurry.

“Emma Jane…” said Hildegard, rapidly concealing her shock with a faux-saccharine voice and an exaggerated smile which didn’t quite reach up to her eyes. “It’s been such a long time.” It was hard to tell whether there was genuinely some residual affection between the two women, or whether Hildegard was just hedging her bets – until Cunts spoke, with such controlled rage that everyone in the chapel trembled.

“Hildy,” said Cunts coldly. “What are you doing with my students?”

“Your students, Emma Jane? I fear I must correct you. This young man works for me. I was led to believe that you had expelled him from your august institution.”

“We have been considering it, Hildy. But he has not yet been rusticated. As such, he remains mine, and I insist you leave him alone.”

“Emma Jane!” Hildegard was trying to maintain her pretence at cordiality. “You and I go back a long way: do you remember when we helped to co-write the Fuckers Party manifesto? We, together, drafted what has become our nation’s policy on Undesirables, on inter-marriage, on sterilisation, and on end-of-life! I have spent my life pursuing those ideals – and I will not stand by while they are flouted by Undesirables and traitors! Do you realise what these two ‘students’ of yours are in the process of doing: escaping the Union illegally in secret, so as to contract a racially-mixed marriage on the spurious excuse of ‘love’?! Will you stand by and allow such delusional outrage to take place under your very nose?”

Cunts looked from Eva and Chad, to Hildegard, and back again. “Is this true?” she asked Chad and Eva gravely.

They nodded. Chad looked shameful, but Eva’s jaw jutted in defiance. Cunts stared, stony-faced, from the naked couple, to Hildegard, to Father Ambrose, to Rob and Alison, and then back again. For a long time she said nothing, her face hard and inscrutable. But then she nodded gravely.

“Hildy,” said Professor Cuntslicker. “I am on your side, as you know. The future of this country lies with the Enlightenment: it lies in Pleasure, not in ‘love’.” Hildegard nodded in satisfaction – but Cunts had not finished: “But, Hildy – if the Enlightenment is not embraced freely, then it is bound to fail: it cannot be forced, or by definition it ceases to be about Pleasure. And that is where you and I differ. If Chad and Eva, in their youthful foolishness, choose to squander their potential as fuckers to follow this illusion of so-called ‘love’ – well, then, deluded though they may be, we cannot stand in their way. Hildy, we must let them go.”

Hildegard looked in horror at Cunts. “You traitor!” she hissed. “You don’t get it, do you? These youngsters have they have been led astray by these… people” – she gestured contemptuously to the assembled congregation – “these filthy religious freaks, these coloured Undesirables. They should all have been culled years ago – or at least expelled! And yet we continue to let them into the Union to practise their dark arts. They will never embrace the Enlightenment freely, because they are subhuman scum – of whom our land needs to be purified! You can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs, Emma Jane!”

Professor Cuntslicker said nothing, but walked calmly across the chapel, her auto-cock still waggling and dripping in front of her, and stood in front of Chad and Eva, arms folded defiantly across her huge tits. “No,” she said calmly.

Hildegard’s eyes blazed with fury. “You leave me no choice,” she snarled. She retrieved her phone from her pocket, dialled a number, and spoke into it: “Boys, number 38B Tottenham Cunt Road, now. Bring weapons: Number Six.”

At the mention of “Number Six”, a wave of terror ran through the watching congregation. Eva gave a strangulated gasp and whispered to Chad, “Follow me, quick!” She grabbed his hand and ducked out of the chapel door.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” screamed Hildegard, as she set off in pursuit. Her way was blocked briefly by Father Ambrose and Bradley, and then Rob. Hildegard bludgeoned each of them out of the way with her nightstick, leaving them sprawled on the floor in pain – but the delay gave Eva and Chad a few seconds to run, not towards the front door, but along the corridor and up the stairs, their attacker in hot pursuit. Rob, clutching his bleeding face, pulled himself off the floor and tore after them, shouting, “THE BALCONY, EVIE! RUN!!!”

Alison followed, catching sight of Rob’s heels as she scrambled up the spiral staircase behind him and Hildegard, onto the balcony. As she emerged into the daylight, Alison saw Eva and Chad leap, hands linked, their naked bodies silhouetted against the weak winter sun – across the gap and onto the office balcony opposite.

“NO YOU FUCKING DON’T!” screamed Hildegard. She took a running jump and leapt after them – but misjudged. Her right toe caught the edge of the balustrade and she tipped over into the gap between the buildings. Screaming, her arms flailing wildly, she managed to catch a precarious hold with her left hand on the edge of the balustrade, her body swinging some forty feet above the sharp metal fence below, her right arm still doggedly gripping her truncheon. Rob ran forward and reached out, grabbing her left arm to rescue her.

“You!” whispered Hildegard, as she looked into Rob’s bloody face.

“Give me your other arm,” said Rob, “and I can pull you up.” On the balcony opposite, Eva and Chad stood naked, watching in horror.

“Let go of her, Rob,” said Eva, her voice tight and hoarse with vengeful rage.

“No,” said Rob. “Give me your other arm, Hildegard!”

“Let her go!” shouted Eva again. “It’s what she deserves!”

But Rob never made that choice. For Hildegard, wild hatred blazing in her eyes, swung her nightstick so as to catch onto the edge of the balcony with the side-bar, screaming: “DON’T YOU TOUCH ME, YOU FILTHY N–” But she never finished her sentence, for she missed her target, instead striking Rob hard on his elbow. In shock, Rob lost his grip, and Hildegard fell. Her scream lasted just a couple of seconds before, from the ground below, could be heard a sickening scrunch – and then silence.

Eva punched the sky in triumph. Alison doubled over and vomited. Rob clasped his head in his hands. And Father Ambrose, limping up the spiral staircase onto the roof garden, made the sign of the cross, collapsed to his knees, and began to pray.

~

The winter sun was beginning to set as Rob and Alison sat on the bench on Tottenham Cunt Road, just outside number 38B. The black eye Rob had received from Hildegard’s truncheon had been carefully bandaged up by Sister Rina – giving him a slightly piratical appearance. Bradley and Claire were in the parked hearse, fucking. Through the tinted windows, Alison could discern their happy faces gazing and giggling at each other, their naked bodies entwined, rolling, Bradley’s cock buried contentedly in Claire’s cunt.

“Just as well I lent them the keys,” said Rob.

Alison giggled. “Yeah, it’s a bit cold out here – and we’ve got the only bench. Even Claire, God bless her, has managed to work out that fucking in the chapel in front of all the nuns would be considered a touch gauche!”

Rob laughed, then paused. “They look happy,” he said.

“Yeah. I think Claire would be happy, even if I wasn’t around…”

Rob raised his eyebrows. “Are you jealous?” he probed gently.

Alison thought. “No… I would be, were it not for that fact that…”

She paused, before abruptly changing the subject: “Rob… you’re a good man, you know,” she said thoughtfully.

Rob cocked his head, puzzled.

“I mean,” Alison continued, “you could have just let Hildegard die, like Eva wanted you to.”

“I did let her die, Alison,” Rob sighed.

“Yes, but not deliberately. And if she had let you save her, well, what then? She was evil through and through.”

Rob frowned, doubtfully. “Have you ever heard this verse: He has not dealt with us according to our sins, nor punished us according to our iniquities. For as the heavens are high above the earth, so great is His mercy.”

“Fuck…” said Alison, looking downwards at her feet.

Rob laughed out loud. “Spoken like a true RAF fucker, my dear Alison!” And Alison laughed with him.

In the hearse, Bradley withdrew his cock from Claire’s pussy and knelt above her. His cock was purple and throbbing, poised in the excruciating ecstasy of the precipice, clearly just on the edge of orgasm. He was not touching it, and nor was Claire – but Alison could see through the windows that she was talking to him, coaxing him over the edge with just her words. Bradley gazed into Claire’s eyes – then gasped and arched his back in ecstasy as, hands-free, his cock twitched, then exploded, jets of semen flying through the air and spattering onto her delicate face and long blond hair. Despite the sound of the traffic, and muffled by the hearse windows, Alison could just hear a delighted “fuck yeah!” from Claire, as Bradley moaned in pleasure.

“Yeah, they belong together, don’t they?” smiled Alison.

“They’re wonderful,” Rob agreed. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of light brown hair from Alison’s face, so as to better admire her soft features. Alison lifted her hand, caught Rob’s fingers, and brought them gently to her cheek.

“If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea…” whispered Alison.

Rob completed the verse: “… even there, your right hand will hold me fast.”

They looked into each other’s eyes, and nodded. And then Rob said: “Now… we need to go.”

“Now?” asked Alison.

“Now,” replied Rob. “All the paperwork is ready for Chad and Eva, and they are ready to get back into the coffin. If we leave now, we can catch the last ferry from Fuckstone.”

“In which case, Rob, I…”

“Yes, Alison?” said Rob.

Rob waited. Alison paused.

“Rob, please make love to me,” said Alison, with just a touch of sheepishness in her voice.

Rob smiled. Actually, Rob grinned, broadly, ear to ear, delight gleaming – despite his one-eyed appearance – from his dark, happy, face. “Well,” he answered, “there’s nowhere here for me to do that…”

“Well then, how about we get a cabin on the boat? Nice and private. Just you and me.”

Rob grinned again – his lovely, wide, heart-stopping, twinkly – though monocular – grin.

And Alison laughed with relief and joy. “See how you have led me astray – a private cabin to make love in?! Cunts would be horrified…”

EPILOGUE
(nine months later)

5^th August, 2051

Dear Al,

It was so good to hear from you – I’ve missed you so much! I keep thinking about all those days we spent licking each other’s pussies, and just fucking around. Those were good times, hey?

Having said that, Brad is a great fucker. After graduating we found a flat together near Elephant and Arsehole. We are having such a fucking time together! We’re not allowed to call it love, of course – but that doesn’t bother me, and actually I think Brad is glad of it: he’s a well brought-up, respectable sort of guy… unlike me! The “L-word” would just embarrass him…

Finals were so fucking hard – but I had a ball doing my specialist fetish area. Fuck, the amount of whipped cream and jam and chocolate syrup I got through just practising for my final show! Brad was so tolerant – but even he, when we got to end of exams, said, “Please, can I just fuck you once without any ganache or fucking ‘crème pât’ in the way?!” I love that guy – oops, mustn’t say that word – hee hee!

Cunts has mellowed, you know. I think it partly had to do with you and Rob, and Eva and Chad and all that. I think she saw what became of Hildegard, and kinda decided she needed to lighten up on all the ideological shit, and just concentrate on teaching us to fuck! I think Dick-Dick likes the new mellow Cunts too: they’re, like, always fucking! I wouldn’t dare suggest they’re “in love” – that would upset Cunts too much – but I think they’ve become very happy in each other’s company.

Dick-Dick was made interim head of the Princess Asshole Hospice – can you imagine a greater contrast from Hildegard? I think the place is pretty chill now. He fired that nurse whatever-her-name-was, and replaced her with Cat from Farts. And he’s been making those three dick-brained fucker studs attend courses at the RAF – for “re-education”. He’s even – get this – invited your friend Ambrose to do “chaplaincy” work at the hospice – whatever the fuck that means. I guess it means they won’t be culling too many more Undesirables – in the near future at least…

Brad and I have decided what we’re going to do next! We ummed and ahhed a lot about it, but I really felt I wanted to start my own fuck-café – you know, where people can come for food, or a fuck, or a food-fuck! Brad had no strong feelings – so long as I promised we could play his favourite vintage fuck-flicks on a screen above the bar. So we’ve found a small place near Cuntden Market, and we’re going to call it Claire’s Culinary Cunt, or maybe Claire’s Cunt Kitchen – what do you think? I’ll give the blowjobs, and customers can eat food off my tits or off my pussy, and Bradley can fuck the lady diners. Angie and Harriet said they might be interested in working for us, and I’ve roped Johnny and Danica in to give us some training. My parents are a bit disappointed: I think they hoped I’d get into some high-powered corporate fucking – but it’s not as if they “love” me or anything, so I think they’re fairly cool about it.

Oh yeah – we’ve seen Riley a few times! She’s so excited about joining the RAF, during term-time she was always dropping by during her lunch breaks from school – and sometimes, to be honest, she’d bunk off school just to come and fuck with us. Cunts and Dick-Dick have grown so fond of her – they invited her to demonstrate her gape to the whole Academy, and to join us for free for the units on anal fisting and DAP and things like that. She’s so fucking amazing – it’s such an inspiration to see such filth in someone so young! Brad was saying we should offer her a job in our café after she’s graduated: we need someone with really good gape-farting skills, you know, for plating up – ha ha!

Oh, now, here’s a funny thing: one of the three studs from Princess Asshole – his mates call him Gaz, but we call him Gary – has taken a real shine to Riley. Whenever the two of them happen to be in the Academy at the same time, Gaz follows her around, like, sniffing her ass all the time. So Riley says, “Oh Gary, Gary, eat me arse out, Gary!” So Gary lies down on a couch, and she squats over his face while he licks her gape and strokes his cock off. And then, just as he’s about to come, she leans forward so he can shoot in her face. It’s so fucking beautiful to watch – I’m sorry you’re not around to see it!

Well, and what about you?! I must admit, when you told me your news I was so horrified and scared for you, it took at least three orgasms to calm me down. But I’ve done a bit of reading – no really, I have! I read at least three pages of that Titfukskaya book you left behind – and I can just about see why you might be okay with it. But fucking hell, Al, won’t it fucking hurt? I mean, what the fuck?! Just take care of yourself, okay? And tell that stud of yours that if he does anything nasty to you, I’m gonna fucking send Gaz and Daz and Baz after him with their Number Sixes! (Sorry, I’m joking, of course – but just make sure he treats you right, and doesn’t dump you for some local floozie!)

I’m really sorry to hear about your Mommy and Daddy. But look at it from their point of view: it must be so hard for them, being such respectable and well-known figures in the fucking world, to see their prize-winning slut daughter go so off the rails – especially as they thought they were sending you down to London for the best fucking education money could buy. (I bet they’ve given Cunts and Dick-Dick shit!) But hey, I think you’re right, they probably do love you – though they’d never say so. I’m sure they’ll come round eventually and consent to speak to you again – and who knows, they might someday even come and visit you in your mud hut or wherever the fuck you live…

By the way, I’m posting you your auto-dick. I know you said you don’t need anything from here – but before your parents came to clear out your things, I… well, I kinda hid it… ‘coz I didn’t want them to take it back. I mean, it is yours after all, isn’t it?

Fuck, I’m late. Brad and I are going out tonight to see a show. Fleshlight Express it’s called – something about racing dildos…

Give that big black dick a good suck for me, babe,

C.

xfxfxf

P.S. Buns dropped by the other day – and we had a great fuck together. Anyway, I told her your news. She was wanting me to tell you something about perineal massage – but I can’t remember what the fuck she was talking about… Sounds like fun, though – can you do it with chocolate?

P.P.S. I miss you so much, my darling cunty-pie… I miss you so much. Please come back, won’t you…?

 

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