Season 4 Episode 13: Chloe Does Not Dream of Bunnygirl Senpai

You are Alabaster Soliloquy, shimaidon shaman and supporter of public utilities.

April 21, 2015

Vivian returns home to find that mother was telling the truth after all. Father didn't go to work today. Rather, he's in the seldom used rumpus room, down in the house's basement, watching television.

More strangely: he's drinking a beer at 3:00 in the afternoon, and eating nachos.

As Vivian descends the staircase, father looks back over his shoulder, and nods at her. "Vivian. How was your tour of Berkeley?"

"It was fine. Why are you not at work?"

"I decided to play hooky. Every once in a great while, a man needs to play hooky from work."

Vivian folds her arms. "Do your investors support this novel concept of CEO hooky?"

Father frowns. "You're an even harsher taskmistress than Mara. I need to teach you how to have some fun in life, too." He holds up a bowl full of revolting yellow liquid. "Queso?"

"No, thank you. What on Earth are you watching?"

He nods at the screen. "ESPN-4. You should be interested in this one. They are airing the national championship of the high school quiz bowl. A team from Gilroy is in the quarterfinal right now."

"Mm."

Father pats the seat beside him on the sofa. But Vivian is reluctant. She's unsure how to explain to father what's really upsetting her. Today is her birthday. Father hasn't spoken to her at all today, not even to announce his gift to her of choosing her college on her behalf. (Some gift.) She assumed that he was at work, the same way he's spent all her other birthdays. Now she has returned from a tour of her fated Alma Mater to find out that, inexplicably, he cut loose from work in the middle of the week to sequester himself, watch TV and eat junk food. Rather than spend time with her. It hurts on a level she can't vocalize.

She goes to his side and watches the competition with him anyway. He was right about that -- it is something that interests her.

The close-to-home team, North High's own Mindbreakers, run roughshod over their competition in the quarterfinals, a school from Minnesota. The score isn't particularly close, and the drubbing leaves the opposing team running perilously low on Minnesota niceness -- they leave the stage without so much as a sporting handshake to congratulate the winners. Vivian, despite her sour mood, finds herself absorbed in the game, and frequently answers questions aloud. Often before anyone on stage gets to the buzzer.

"Maybe you should have gone to North High," father says. "You could be up on that stage too."

"Don't be absurd."

"They will win this tournament," father says.

"They certainly appear poised to do so," Vivian agrees. She might be entertained, but she remains standoffish with father.

She does sample the queso, eventually. It's as disgusting as she expected.

"They have such talent," father says. "It's really something to watch."

"Not much talent," Vivian says. "This is a five member team, and only two of them are actually answering any questions."

"It could be a case of stage fright. A team could never advance this far with only two skilled players... they all strike me as talented young people in their own way. Her, in particular -- she's going to shine for sure." He points at one of the girls. "I see brilliance in her eyes. What do you think?"

A post-game interview is just starting with that girl, Whitney Price. The announcer asks into his mic, "great showing. How do you and your teammates prepare for games?"

Whitney shrugs. "I dunno. I'm just a sub. Ally knows all this quiz dork bullsh--t." (The delayed broadcast mutes her profanity). "I'm just here to stand behind the buzzer and look pretty. His words."

The announcer, befuddled, laughs awkwardly. He's not sure how to follow that up. "That's a little... uh..."

"Oh, it's fine. He called me pretty, at least!" She laughs, but it's mostly air.

Vivian looks at father. "There you have it. The star player's bimbo girlfriend -- on stage for no other reason. Some brilliance in her eyes."

Father shakes his head.

The announcer moves on from that trainwreck of an interview. He walks down the line of buzzer-befitted podiums that the Mindbreakers were standing at during the game, and the cameraman closely follows him. Overhead rigging and the glare of stage lights is visible at the top of the screen. A few feet on from Whitney, the team's two actual players are sharing an aside, talking animatedly, and the conversation doesn't seem to be going well for either of them. Are they arguing about something?

"Alabaster Soliloquy?" The announcer asks, catching both contestants' attention. They turn away from each other, towards the camera.

"Good afternoon," says not Alabaster, but the girl he was arguing with, Rose Mallory. Her voice sounds distant because she's not close enough to the mic.

Alabaster holds up a palm. "He was talking to me, Rose. God." His voice also sounds distant.

"Well I guess I'm really talking to both of you!" The announcer tries, and forces laughter.

Alabaster leans way in, to hog the mic, and blot Rose out from the lens's view. "Yeah. Hi."

"Great showing," The announcer says -- seems to be a stock phrase. "Just two more games to go. How does it feel?"

"Feels great."

"Do you foresee your team winning the grand final?"

"For sure we're going to win the--" comes Rose's voice, still distant, her head peeking just barely past Alabaster's shoulder as she stands on tiptoes to get in-frame.

"For sure we're going to win the grand final," Alabaster repeats, speaking over her. "It's basically a done deal."

"You seem quite assured of victory!" The announcer says. "I can feel the passion for success emanating off of you!"

Alabaster smirks. "Well, see, success is fine. But my philosophy in life is that it isn't enough for me to simply succeed."

"Oh?" The announcer says.

Vivian sits forward in her seat and perks up her ears.

---

Noelle has her head in Kay's lap, tightly hugging Kay's legs, as Kay explains to you all what just went down at Darkbloom Analytics. Kay soothingly pets her in just the same way you've seen her pet Lady and Guy to calm down their separation anxiety.

Vivian is fighting back tears, as she hears the grisly story. Steven Armstrong was a longtime friend of the family. Whitney is less composed, and cries openly.

"Did the pilot see anything?" Dr. Carte asks.

"No," Kay says. "I hightailed it out of there when Steven died. Got to the roof before Alyosha saw me. Told the pilot that Steven had decided to stay, and I had decided to go. He was antsy to get going, so he didn't question anything."

"Alyosha could be coming for us next," Darkbloom says.

"He'll have to fight his way through what amounts to an army to get through our front gates," Charlotte says.

"He is the army now," Amber says. "The actual army. You know, the ones with tanks and jet fighters and nukes and shit."

"I am loath to say this," Vivian intones, voice still quavering a bit with grief, "but we may have to turn for help to the very government who stole our company. If a high-ranking general such as Max Pershing has become compromised, then there is no telling--"

"Precisely," Qiangxiang says. "There is no telling. We must come to grips with the fact that Alyosha Kerimov and his followers could be lying in wait anywhere -- and inside anyone. One of us could right now be his puppet. Or, more likely, anyone in your government who could render aid." She smirks. "Perhaps even your President is already a Russian asset."

You sigh.

Qiangxiang continues. "We have, ourselves, the needed tools to go up against them on our own. But only if we act swiftly. Consider this. There is someone here who has been on the wrong side of Alyosha Kerimov not just once, but twice, and lived to tell the tale: Kay Vera." She points at her. "You have done remarkably well for yourself, for a woman who has spent so long on the periphery."

Kay shrugs. "It's what I do."

"You will be useful," Qiangxiang says. You don't like the way that sounds. Qiangxiang turns to you. "Amber will be useful, as well. If she can corral all the abilities her implant bequeaths, for long enough, and in a focused enough manner..."

"I'm not making her do that," you say.

"It appears you have very little say over it," Qiangxiang counters.

"It's fine, Daddy," Amber tells you. "We gotta use what we've got. Right?" She peels back her eyepatch before you can stop her. Hissing in agony, she falls to her butt on the couch beside Kay. Noelle lifts her head from Kay's lap in fright. Mom rushes to Amber's side, ditto Cerise. But turning away from their grasp, Amber waves them back. Finally composing herself, shivering like she's got frostbite, she puts the eyepatch back down and says: "I think Alyosha is still there with Nelson. He's making Nelson and the rest of the programmers finish a working build of the Diogenes project..."

"Excellent work," Qiangxiang says.

Rose2, hands on her knees, leans forward to look her younger sister in the eye. "Please don't hurt yourself, Amber."

You're livid. "Who made you the fucking queen of this house?" You demand of Qiangxiang.

"No one. I appointed myself."

"Ordering us around -- and making Amber --" you pause, and look Qiangxiang over from head to toe. With everything going on, this is the first time today you're really noticing her. She's got on a bikini. And a spot just below her bare navel has a tattoo on it.

"Like what you see?" She asks. She runs a forefinger across the glossy ink.

Your mouth goes dry.

Cerise sits down next to her wife. Gal is taciturn in her typical way, but it's heavier than usual -- she's aggrieved too, over Armstrong's murder. She hugs Cerise tight, nuzzling her side for comfort. But Cerise, nudging her, says: "You have a way to see inside the systems there, still -- don't you?"

Gal, arms still looped around her, pulls her ruddy face away from Cerise and peers up at her.

Cerise nods tenderly. "Nelson's still around. Let's make sure we get him out, at least."

Gal goes to the PC in the corner and sits at it, toting along Johann the penguin. She sets him carefully down by the keyboard, and even takes a moment to straighten the fur on his head. Darkbloom repeats some keys, memorized by rote, that give Gal a backdoor eye into the Darkbloom Analytics intranet.

"nelson's terminal is active," Gal affirms after a few moments. "he's working -- right now. and so are about 50 other terminals belonging to diogenes project devs... all hands on deck"

"Final code sprint," Alex says. "They'll be complete soon, with those instructions I passed on... and then... all Alyosha would need is one of our implants to load Diogenes into."

"So we've got, what, about 24 hours before a Russian wetwork squad comes knocking?" Noelle asks. "At best?

"I'll knock 'em right back!" Mom hollers.

"Please," you say. "Let's talk realistic options."

But Mom, apparently, thinks that's realistic.

"No one knows about those tunnels beneath the server room," Kay tells you. "Just us. They were dug illegally by Palo Alto Waste and Water Management, never included in any city plans -- and there hasn't been any new surveying since Tyrus and his gang have died, as far as I've been able to snoop out." She holds up an index finger. "That one singular flaw in security there could be our ticket back inside, if we want to use it."

"There's no access, though," you say. "It was only ever there as a convenient spot to put bombs."

"Right, and bombs make holes, and holes can be climbed through," Kay says. "Instead of blowing Darkbloom Analytics to kingdom come, how about a little controlled demolition?"

"For what purpose?" Qiangxiang demands.

"To save Nelson Berenstoin, for one," Vivian says. "And every other innocent working there."

"No one who works at Darkbloom Analytics is innocent," Qiangxiang says.

"Go to hell," Whitney says. "Those are my people in there. My people. I could give a fuck about innocent. We have to get them out if we're talking about blowing the place up."

"Time is ticking," Qiangxiang says frustratedly. "Tick tock, tick tock, Whitney. Would you rather Alyosha get his hands on technology that can undo the existence of people you love? He will come gunning for us next, when Nelson is done, and then what will you do?"

Whitney has no response.

"What about your implants?" Rose asks. "You, and Amber, and Gal, and Vivian -- you'll die if we blow up the campus."

"If Nelson finishes Diogenes and pushes it to the servers, the servers will push it to them," Alex says. "That's how I have it set up, at least. After that, they won't need the functionality of the servers any longer..."

"So the moment he's done with his work, our implants become an all-in-one Sand-Reckoner-slash-Diogenes smorgasbord for this Alyosha prick to come steal," Amber says.

"Basically," Alex says.

"And that leaves us with a vanishingly small window to actually extract Nelson and the rest of them if we want to go that route," Noelle says. "Surely Alyosha will kill them all when they're through. And then he'll mobilize for us right away."

"We should get going quick, then," Whitney says.

"i'll know as soon as they're done working on the project" Gal offers. "i could give the word go"

Alex, of all people, is the pragmatist: "Getting inside the building is one thing. Getting out, with dozens of people in tow, is another... that place is under siege. And under the eyes of the police, the military, foreign powers... we can't just escort all the employees out and not expect someone to fight us. Even if we take them out the way we came, through the tunnels -- even if no one else above-ground realized what was going on -- Alyosha's men would know for sure. That place has got to be swarming with his footsoldiers. And they'd chase us. Right?"

"Under siege," Amber repeats.

"Hmm?" Alex says.

"You're right, twinky. They're under siege. And who's sieging them? Thousands of pissed off citizens who wanna overthrow the system." She turns from face to face. "Why do we have to blow up Darkbloom Analytics? Why can't we just give these folks the keys to the kingdom and let them go hog wild for us? If we get them inside, they'll do the work -- and it'll give everyone there a chance to get out, during the fray."

"That's just going to make the body count even higher," you say.

"No one inside that building is going to get out of it, unless we give them an escape ladder," Amber says. "And the only thing that will work for it is chaos -- the chaos of a riot breaching the front gates."

"The way I see it, we have three options," Kay says.

"Oh my god," Amber mutters.

Kay ignores her exasperation. "We can try to use a riot to our advantage, the way Amber suggests -- leading them into the building through the tunnels. Or we can go inside all stealthy-like, and try to manage the breakout on our own terms. Or..."

"Or," you prompt.

"Or we accept that there's going to be some collateral, and blow the place up, even with people like Nelson still in it."

>[x] Option A: Breach the system. Help the protestors inside; use the chaos to defeat Alyosha and destroy the company.

[ ] Option B: Subvert the system. Sneak in, save anyone you can, and defeat Alyosha under your own powers.

[ ] Option C: Blow the system up.

"And how exactly are we supposed to herd a bunch of unruly protestors into the building?" Daddy says. "Are you the pied piper of anarchists now? Gonna march your way into an active battlezone and say, 'hey guys, come with me down into the sewers, there's something cool there I wanna show you!' Get real."

He's always such a shit when he's scared. It's kind of sweet, in its own way. He doesn't want to put you at risk.

"I know someone who can help," you say.

"Of fucking course you do," Noelle mutters.

"You know him too. And he's up to no good, right now." You tap your cheekbone just below your ruined eyehole. "So says the god of the grain."

---

Will parks on the curb right outside the chain-link fence. You're a good 10 miles from Darkbloom Analytics and the thick of the protest -- this is a quiet backstreet, without any public businesses or residences nearby, just some warehouses, storage sheds, shipping centers, and -- this. An electrical substation, humming along at about 220,000 volts, give or take. That electric hum is the only sound in the air right now. The fence is abutted along the top of its perimeter by barbed wire, and beyond, a stretch of patchy grass leads to the gray transformers and power switchers and capacitors, in all their weird geometry so reminiscent of retro sci-fi, all of it seeming to vibrate with raw energy.

"Thanks for picking me up," you say.

"No prob."

Mom leans in from the back of the car. "You're such a nice young man, Will. I wish Amber would be more like you."

He laughs. You wish Mom hadn't insisted on coming, but she wouldn't let you and Daddy leave the house without tagging along. Ditto Daddy's cunt of a wife (who's growing on you, admittedly.)

"For real, though," you tell Will. "I know I said I didn't want you involved, but..."

"Hah," he says. "You think I'm gonna just sit back and let fucking Rais--" he startles as, from the substation, a deafening crackle like thunder roars out, and then sparks go flying. The streetlights die. Power just got knocked out for a huge swath of Palo Alto. By no accident, either.

Fleeing on foot, then, comes a little gaggle of people in black suits and balaclavas. Five in total. They clamber through the hole they made in the fence when they first came in -- but you and Will are already out of the car to intercept them. So are your dear sweet mother and your less sweet, but just as dear, Daddy.

Two of the wannabe insurrectionists level guns on you, shouting emphatically, asking who the fuck you are. Mom scurries from the car and bodily shields you, arms held wide. But from the rear of the opposing group, one young man comes pushing through, and tells the guys threatening you to lower their weapons. He pulls his mask off his sweaty face.

"Hey Auburn," you say.

"Should I ask what you're up to?" You say, nodding at the bolt cutter still in Auburn's hand.

"No," he says. He's got scruff -- and he stinks -- a week or so of being caught up in a fast-developing street war with the cops didn't wear well on him. Or did it? The beard, brown unlike the blond of his head, kinda suits him. Too bad about his ear, though. It's covered with a thick gauze bandage taped haphazardly around his head.

"Whoa," Will says. "You okay, Raisin Brant? What happened to you?" He reaches for the wounded side of Auburn's head, and the blood-stained bandage there, but Auburn swats his hand away.

"Don't touch me. I don't consent to that."

Will giggles.

"I got shot," Auburn says. "I was lucky. A lot of the people with me weren't."

"Going for graze points?" You say.

"What?"

"Auburn..." Mom breathes. "I wouldn't believe it if I didn't see it with my own two eyes. You were always such a sweet boy."

"Hello to you too, Ms. Catachresis."

"Yo, who the fuck are these people?" One of Auburn's still-masked accomplices wants to know.

Will pulls on his eyelid and sticks his tongue out at the armed men.

"Friends," Auburn tells them. "In a way."

"We gotta get out of here," another accomplice says.

"I'll make this quick," you say. "Now that you've got the cover of darkness and all, it's perfect timing."

"For what?" Auburn says.

"Tell everyone you know that I've got a way into the building."

Daddy and Rose2 and Will follow behind, while you lead Auburn through the sewers. You wear lighted helmets, and also wield flashlights in your hands, to show the way in the pitch darkness.

"Right... here," you tell him, stopping. "Put a little C4 up here --" you tap on the low, curved, vaulted ceiling. "-and kablammo. We'll get in, no sweat."

"Why are you telling me this?" Auburn asks.

"There's all sorts of bad guys up in there. Once we're in, we can shoot 'em up." You make finger guns. "Action movie style."

"We," Auburn says flatly.

"But let me put it back on you," you tell him. "What made you decide to come take part in this craziness?"

"It didn't start like this," Auburn says. "It was just a protest. Banging drums, holding signs. But it kept getting worse, and worse... I got sucked into it."

The way he speaks now, even the way he carries himself, is so different. Just a few days of violence has changed some deep part of him.

"But why did you start?" You ask. "You were never one to tear down the system."

Auburn gazes at you coldly. "And you? You think you're some revolutionary, but where were you, Amber? I thought you'd be here a lot sooner. I guess in the end neither of us were what we thought."

"Auburn--"

"Thanks for the help," he says. "Get out of here. Have fun in your sex mansion. I don't need anything else from you."

"Oh, that shit is not going to fly--" you begin, but Daddy is already putting a hand on your shoulder. Auburn nods at him.

"Will can take us back," Daddy says. "He'll bring back a few presents for you, too."

"Explosives?" Auburn says.

You nod. "I have a stash tucked away somewhere safe. I call them roomburners."

"Such a lame fucking name," Daddy's wife mutters.

"Shut up," Daddy says, rolling his eyes, not glancing back at her. "Well. They should be just enough to blow a decent sized hole in the ceiling. The servers are right above us."

"When do you want us to go?" Auburn says.

"When I say go."

He huffs. "Fine."

"I'll be there too, naturally," you say -- but Daddy is already leading you by the hand, down the tunnel. Auburn's lone form, lit by his lighted helmet, becomes smaller and smaller in the encroaching darkness.

---

"Hey, you got any of that Capris Sun?" Will asks.

Gal hands him a bag from the fridge.

"Sweet." He peels the straw off and unwraps it, but struggles to get it stuck into the bag. Try and try as he might, he can't get it done.

Amber sighs. "Give me that," she says, and she does it for him.

"Thanks," he says. "Thought you'd never offer."

"Have you ever gotten one of these things open on your own?" She says.

"...No."

Amber rolls her eyes at him.

You find a pen and a pad of paper, and write down the address of the Mallory home. "The roomburners are in the crawlspace down there. Go grab them, and bring them to Auburn."

Will salutes with one hand, and slurps his drink with the other.

"And get the fuck out of there as soon as you're done with your delivery," Amber tells him.

"Oh, I gotta," he says. "I have to be at soccer practice suuuuper early, and it's kind of a long drive back and forth from Palo to Gilroy. So I won't be getting any shuteye until late."

You shake your head. Does this boy understand the gravity of what he's involved with right now? Guess not.

"Hey, could I steal a few more Capris Suns -- for the drive? They'd super help a lot, since I still have half a gallon of nuts left to get through tonight."

Amber sighs even more theatrically. "Need me to open those ones for you, too?"

"Yeah... I mean if you're offering."

She prepares an entire 12 pack of Capris suns for him, putting straws through each. She sets them in in a deep tupperware container for safekeeping and easy toting.

"You're a lifesaver, Amb," he says.

"What are you talking about, again?" Whitney asks. "Half a gallon of nuts? Nuts come in gallons?"

"Ever hear of GOMAD?" Will asks.

"Gallon of milk a day, yeah," Whitney says.

He snaps, and points at her. "Yeah! Well, I'm lacto intolerant. So..."

He proceeds to explain to a goggle-eyed Whitney, at length, the idea of his GONAD diet.

"Huh," she says when at last he's through.

"Pretty cool, don't you think?" He says.

"...I'll stick with milk," Whitney says.

Will shrugs. "Does a body good, right?"

"I mean," Whitney adds, not wanting to offend, "I do like nuts. Just not that much."

"I don't really like nuts either," Will says.

"...You eat a gallon a day."

"Yeah, but. I don't like it."

"Shouldn't you stop, then?" Whitney asks.

"Meh," he says.

Whitney nods. "Fair enough," she says -- as if truly convinced by the rhetorical tactic of "meh."

"Well, I should skedaddle," Will says, and takes his tupperware full of pre-strawed Capris Suns, bracing them against his hip as he exits. "See you on the flipside."

As Whitney closes the door behind him, she turns and tells you: "Cool kid. Dumb as a bog of rocks. But cool. I like him."

"Bog?" You say.

"Sorry. I meant to say bax, but switched it up at the last second, so it came out as bog."

"Box?"

"What?"

You let it drop.

"So what's the next step of your master plan?" Noelle says.

"Oh, I'm sure the FBI would love to know," Amber says, munching on gummi bears on the living room couch. Noelle flips her off.

"There is no next step," you tell her. "We're all here, and we're all safe. So we're going to stay hunkered down until it's over."

Amber is on her feet. "What? Like fuck we're gonna stay hunkered down. We gotta go in there--"

"No we fucking don't," you say. "We've set up everything we can from the outside. Now we play defense. That's it. That's the plan. No more discussion."

"If you're too much of a coward to go there, then--"

It's time to lean on some of that Daddy cachet you've built up: "I will tie you down if I have to, little girl. Do not test me. You aren't leaving this house until I say so."

"Ahhhn~"

You turn, and glance into the den. Qiangxiang is sitting in a chair, writhing, and biting her lip, as Samantha pierces her belly button.

"What the fuck--" you begin.

"Don't worry!" Samantha insists. "I'm a licensed practitioner! It will look so cute on her!"

"God," you breathe.

Alex is leaning over Gal's shoulder at the PC, snooping on Darkbloom Analytics. He grabs your attention: "they've got a long ways to go yet," he says. "They won't be finished until tomorrow at the very, very earliest."

"And what are we supposed to do in the meantime?" Amber demands.

You shrug. "Same thing we do every night."

Noelle approaches her from behind. "I can help you tie her down. You know I'm good for it."

Now there's something you finally like to hear the sound of.

>Everyone is here. But how many people do you need to help you fuck 14 girls and a cute boy at the same time?

>(And who, if you do want help, should take the honors?)

[ ] 0. I'll do it myself.

[ ] 1. Always could use a helper.

>[x] 2. Makes for a nice 4-to-1 ratio. (Rose/Whitney)

[ ] 3+. The more the merrier.

"Yoooou-- you dumb fucking hobag! I will make you pay!"

Noelle finishes tying Kay down. Kay, like all the other times, pretends she isn't happy about it.

Some of the girls, like Mom and Charlotte, were only too excited to have Noelle strip them nude and tie them up with their holes proudly on display. Some even begged for the bindings to be tighter, like Samantha and Rose2.

Others, like Amber, and like Kay here, fought the system -- kicked and screamed, threatened and gnashed their teeth.

No matter. Your dick doubles as a perfectly good reward for the submissive and a punishment for the bratty.

Noelle's skill at shibari is second to none. The way she's done these bitches up is absolutely breathtaking. The girls are all lined up in the living room, on their backs, legs doubled up over their torsos, calves parallel with the floor. Their wrists, nestled in the crooks of their knees, support the weight of their legs, albeit quite uncomfortably indeed. And the bindings ensure that they cannot move from this stressful position. That position comes with a few added benefits, aside from subduing them and causing a little discomfort. It leaves their cunts and assholes totally vulnerable and defenseless, and leaves room up top if you want to use their throats, too. Tonight, every single one of them is a three-hole slut -- even if some of them don't know it yet.

Each girl is tied the same way, although some come with custom bits of perversion. Vivian and Amber are both suspended from the ceiling, rather than lying atop a cushion on the floor. They bob and sway a little bit as they hang there -- Vivian eager, Amber angry -- how cute. Rose2 has a cat-tail buttplug inside her ass; her cherished flamingo-pink double-ended dildo is meanwhile sticking up out of her mouth like a butter churn -- she gags and sputters horribly around it without the ability to force it out of her body. Gal and Cerise both have rotors in their cunts, and are riding a wave of continuous orgasms. Mom has a dildo shoved halfway up inside her, and her hairy pussy is doing masturbatory kegels around it while she moans like a whore. Charlotte and Alex, for their part, both have a set of anal beads lodged inside them, only the handle of the pullstring visible from beyond their sealed-up, pale, pulsing anuses.

The only girls not secured are Noelle, who did the dirty work; and Rose and Whitney, who as always were a great help in getting some bitches ready for hardcore rape. Your wife and your tomboy gf kept the fighters under control (you helped, of course), while Noelle methodically completed her job of tying everyone down.

"I'll beat your ass!" Kay yells.

"Yeah!" Amber agrees, swinging uselessly in the air a few feet down the line.

"I'll knock your teeth out!" Kay cries.

"Tell her!" Amber goads.

Noelle, getting nude now herself, giggles. She's flushed with excitement, and her voice drips adrenaline. She nudges Kay's face with her toes -- then starts to apply some pressure. Soon she's outright stepping on the poor woman. Is that a move she picked up from Rose? In any case, you've rarely seen a smile as elated as Noelle's is right now. This is a woman in her natural element, surrounded by writhing lesbian sluts, many of them unwilling, all of them helpless, in a room stinking under a heavy fog of female sex.

"I wanna do her first," Noelle says, rubbing her toes all around Kay's nose and mouth. "You'll let me fuck her first, right?"

She's so happy; her cunt is shiny with arousal as she gently abuses Kay. So it's kind of a shame that the harsh reality of the situation has to come crashing down on her now.

Rose takes one of Noelle's arms, and Whitney takes the other.

"W-what are you doing?" Noelle demands. "Hey -- let me go!"

She looks up in fright, to see you approaching with a red rope held taut between your hands -- this one, meant for her.

"Wait!" She screams.

Too late. Hoisted by her own petard. Rose and Whitney force the struggling woman to her back and hold her still while you tie her up. It's not a perfect replication of her honed shibari technique, not by a longshot, but it's good enough -- it gets her in the same position as the others, anyway. And that's all you really need. You don't care to mix origami into your sex life, you're just making sure that the fuckholes you want access to stay spread open, on display and ready for you to dump your load in. That's all.

"Asshole!" Noelle wails. "After everything I did to help you just now!"

Kay, right beside her, grins smugly at her. It's a pyrrhic victory, but she'll take it.

Rose and Whitney laugh cruelly at Noelle's predicament, too.

"Dyke slut," Rose says. She uses her foot on her. But not on the Noelle's face, as Noelle did to Kay. Rather, Rose pokes and prods at Noelle's delicate-looking twat. Noelle strains -- pulls against her bindings, to no avail. When Rose's soft cruelty starts to bring Noelle feelings she never signed up for, she closes her eyes, gasping.

Whitney laughs anew at the sight. "You gonna do her first, then?"

"I owe her a little payback for the men's restroom at Comiket. And a few of the other bitches here too." Rose gives Whitney a meaningful look.

"Hey, it wasn't my idea!" Whitney says, waving her hands in front of her. "Blame Gal!"

"blame me," Gal agrees, cumming hard on her rotors. "fucking rape me. rape me rape me rape me"

Whitney shuts her up by kneeling and sticking some fingers down Gal's throat. Gal, gagging, smiles in bliss. After a couple more orgasms aided along by being choked from the inside, Gal becomes a bit more docile again. For now.

Rose and Whitney get themselves ready. Each don a huge, vicious strap-on of their own. The strap-ons are double-sided, with an end that lodges up their own cunts, so that when they fuck one of these whores, they get pleasure out of it too. They'll be enjoying this gang rape just as much as you. Rose, legs bowed, sighs in pleasure just getting the thing inside herself; Whitney has much the same reaction. Then, they help each other do up the straps and buckles behind their butts. How friendly they become when working towards a common goal.

Rose, all ready now, jerking on her fake cock like it's real, smiles at you. "Ready to fuck, honey?"

"I know I am," Whitney says. "Let's rape these cunts..."

You're ready, too. You strip, and all eyes are glued to you. The moment when you step free from your pants and boxers, to reveal the hunk of fuckmeat you keep in there, there's an audible sigh that washes through the room. What unites these women despite their manifold differences is how hot they all get for this dick of yours. They all want it -- even if some of them are playing coy about it -- their mouths and cunts are all watering just from glimpsing it.

That's enough, on its own, to make it start throbbing its way to hardness. But you're only half-hard at the moment, your cock hanging heavily between your legs as you walk down the line of women. 38 holes for you to choose from. Aside from the ones belonging to Qiangxiang, you've sampled each and every one before, at one point or another. All are perfectly good masturbation sleeves to get yourself off in. So just which one of them are you going to bless with the first cumload of the evening? Which of these cumdumps are you going to creampie first?

Speaking of Qiangxiang... right, now there's an idea. She's at the very end of the line, next to Samantha, and she's trying to look miserable even as she stares at your semi-erect cock.

"So the time has come at last," she says, eyeing you up as you approach. "You've finally decided to rape me."

"Finally?" You ask.

"I knew it was going to happen," she says reproachfully. "Get it over with."

"Ask me nicely."

"What?"

"You heard me. Ask me nicely and I'll consider raping you."

"Hmph," is all she'll say, forcing herself to look away -- turning her head away from both you, and the other women in the room.

You kneel before her. This is the first time you've really taken an up-close look at Qiangxiang's cunt. The lips are well-defined, a dark pink that contrasts nicely with the pale skin of her crotch. She keeps herself hairless. And she's so, so wet. Alongside her tan, the womb tattoo and the freshly pierced navel complete the slutty look.

You take your meaty cock in hand, by the base, and slap it against her mound. Over and over. The wet thwaps send droplets of her arousal up in random arcs, and smear your prick with wetness. Now this is a pretty novel way to get yourself hard. The head of your prick is battering her clitty, waking it up. That clit of hers, dark pink like the rest of her cunt, gets hard. It gets hard with your dick, and pokes out from under its hood to meet it.

Qiangxiang, trying not to, winces and grunts in pleasure.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" You ask.

She refuses to say.

Oh well. You'll come back to her.

You move down the line. Samantha is less abashed, of course. She looks Qiangxiang's way and says: "Don't be like that! If you want Master to fuck you, you have to tell him nicely! And he definitely will!" She looks back your way. "Master... master please... my bunny pussy can't take much more waiting! Please won't you give me your cock juice! I want it so bad!"

From down by the other end of the line, the sounds of grunting catch your attention. Rose is on top of Noelle, fucking her like a bitch, while Noelle thrashes around below her. Rose's huge knockers sway under her as she humps with abandon and loses herself in the bliss of fucking.

A little ways down from that lovely sight, Whitney is holding Vivian by the thighs, swinging her back and forth on her strap-on. Vivian's entire body drips sweat and her teeth are gritted from the enormous, invading tool that Whitney violates her tiny cuntlet with. As if that weren't enough, Whitney fingers her little sister's asshole at the same time, trying to maximize the amount that those itty bitty loli-holes can be stretched. Whitney still hasn't found that maximum yet, despite bountiful searching -- and she won't tonight, either. Vivian takes all her sister's abuse with joy.

"Please master PLEASE," Samantha begs, vying for your attention. She's so pitiful all tied up like that, begging for 'cock juice', that you decide to indulge her a little. It'll be instructive for Qiangxiang too. She'll see that niceness goes a long way with you. That all a girl has to do for you to fuck her is submit completely to your cock -- in mind, body, heart and soul.

You prop yourself on your hands and dig into Samantha's hot, tight bunny cunny. It's a wonderful inauguration for tonight's fucking. Like every other time, Samantha's twat is unbelievably warm and swampy. Its little bumps and ridges feel half-alien, and cling so nicely to your shaft as you sink in. The dopey smile that creeps across her face, like an addict shooting up, is only an added pleasure.

"That's it," you sigh. "Tell Chloe how much you like it."

"I LOVE it," she says, voice high. "I LOVE my Master's cock! So much! It's the best cock in the whole wide world! I want it to make so many babies inside me! I want you to put lots of cum inside me okay! Please, please cum inside!"

"You disgust me," Qiangxiang tells her.

"Good! I'm disgusting! I'm a disgusting slut made for breeding!"

Qiangxiang watches intently at the place where you're fucking Samantha's hot gash. She watches your sawing prick and your swaying nutsack. She watches the way Samantha's wetness just keeps seeping out of her like a waterfall. She watches Samantha squirm in joy at getting used for a fuckdump. Qiangxiang is hypnotized by it all.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck!" Whitney yowls. "Get me off, you little slut! Yeah, just like that!" She's pumping her little sister's own hot gash with whole quarts of semen, dispensed from the stap-on's hand-pump. This is a favorite perversion of Vivian's. The white cream overfills Vivian's abused hole and flows back out of her, all down her pale ass, dripping to the floor at Whitney's bare feet. The mental image of that stap-on's enormous apple-sized head, almost as big as Vivian's entire fist, lodged up inside the small girl's uterus and blasting its back walls with hot jizz -- is almost enough to make you dump a load in Samantha's pussy right then. But you want to save your first cum, really draw it out -- so Samantha is going to have to wait.

You pull out of her, and admire the way your cock is shiny with her pussy cream.

"Master, wait--!!"

"You wait," you tell her firmly. "You'll all get a turn."

She whines and pleads, but it falls on deaf ears.

This, too, is instructive for Qiangxiang. She can learn from seeing you treat Samantha this way: that even if she submits her body completely to your cock, she still won't always get her way. And maybe it's this very thought that makes Qiangxiang cum herself -- without any stimulation at all -- squirting a little bit on the cushion beneath her butt.

Next to Samantha is Alex. He's wearing that same revealing outfit he stole from Vivian at Mom and Charlotte's behest. The holey top and crotchless panties are so tiny on him, and both articles have seen better days. They stink of cum, and are stained all over. A perfect ensemble for such a nasty slut as Alex Best. The handle for the anal beads in his asshole twitches in tune with his pulse. His cock is all hard, and he's already cum on himself at least once. The pearly jism pools in his belly button, reflecting the overhead light.

"A-Ally..." he whimpers. "I need it... I need it real bad."

"Where do you need it?" You ask him.

He stares at your cock, licking his lips. "In... in my asshole."

"Here?" You nudge the handle of his anal beads, making him shiver.

"Yes. Yes!"

"That's not an asshole, is it?" You ask.

He shakes his head emphatically. "I mean -- in m-my pussy. I need it in my pussy so bad, Ally, please! Fuck me!"

"Your pussy's full."

He whimpers.

"You want it in your mouth?" You offer.

He nods, so you get over his face, squatting, and hold him roughly by the ears. His face begins to turn crimson before you even lodge your cock inside his throat. And when you do that, he turns nearly infrared. He fights for air -- vainly so, since you plug his nose (thanks for the idea, Vivian). Like so, you really begin to fuck his mouthpussy.

What a wonderful cocksucker Alex is. He slurps your precum and Samantha's girlcum off your member with equal enthusiasm, even as he nearly asphyxiates. That's just the kind of hungry cunt he is. He'll drink down any slime from any set of genitals, the fucking cunt bitch. You can smell him spunking again, behind you, as you force him to suck you off. And you feel him screaming his orgasm around your pistoning shaft, sending pleasurable vibrations up it. You're gonna cum like this if you're not careful... you'd better move on soon.

Whitney has already moved on, too. She's left her sister's ruined little pussy dripping spunk from it, to take a ride inside Amber's cunt.

"Ready?" Whitney says leeringly, holding Amber's skinny thighs much the same way she manhandled Vivian. She swings Amber lightly back and forth by the strap holding her to the ceiling.

"Fuck you," Amber snarls.

Whitney slaps her. Amber reels. Then, looking back at Whitney, she repeats: "FUCK YOU."

Whitney slaps her again, across the other side of her face. Two palm-shaped marks mar the porcelain beauty of Amber's features.

"You should be nicer to me," Whitney says. "I own your pussy right now. I can make it hurt or I can make it feel good. Your choice."

"My pussy belongs to Daddy!" Amber says, adopting the tone and timbre of a whiny brat. "Leave it alone!"

"Hey Daddy," Whitney laughs, glancing back at you as you step off Alex's face. You gaze down at the ravished trap, the way he coughs and hacks up little wads of your own prefuck as he tries to breathe again, ejecting all that slime out of his throat in a little streamer that lands back onto his already messy face. His face, now, is as slimy as his slender, cum-slick torso.

"What's up?" You finally ask Whitney.

"Your little girl says that her pussy only belongs to you."

"True," you say.

"Can I borrow it?" Whitney asks.

"Sure."

"Can I do whatever I want to it? Can I jizz inside it?"

"Of course."

Grinning like a wolf, Whitney grabs Amber's thighs again.

"Dadddyyyyyy!" Amber wails, but no use. Whitney jams her prick inside the poor thing. Amber grimaces and tenses -- and then, face going droopy, she cums for aunt Whitney.

Rose has only just finished fucking Noelle. Your loving wife has had a nice, long, meaty orgasm inside Noelle's body, and now she occupies herself by squirting a cumload all over Noelle's face. What a sadistic bitch Rose can be -- not even granting Noelle the pleasure of getting cummed inside after raping her. You're one to judge, though. You've gotten some pleasure from just that same act of denial tonight...

Charlotte is next in line for you. Like Alex, her tight asshole is occupied by a set of anal beads. As experienced and mature as she is; unbelievably, only the starter set of beads could fit inside, and this only after considerable effort. Her asshole is as tight as a fucking drum, it's true... time to break it.

She doesn't know that's your intent as you approach, of course. She wiggles her toes and coos as you draw near. "There you go, baby... come to Mommy. You must be SO worked up after all that fucking you've been doing... why don't you come relieve yourself inside my pussy, huh?"

"Oh thank you so much, Mommy," you say in faux gratitude. "My dick is so hard it hurts... I could really use the help."

"She's not your real mother--" begins, well, your real mother, who's lying beside. You shush her.

"Oh baby, that's no good," Charlotte mewls. "That's no good at all... sink inside me and rub that ache away, okay?" She flexes her pussy theatrically, just to show you how limber she can be up in her motherly orifice. You see it twitching. "I'll make it feel so good for you..."

You heave a sigh, and get down in front of her. The expression she wears is some mixture of... maternal and smug. Is it possible to be a smug mommy? Charlotte is making the case for it.

That expression vanishes the second you tug the anal beads out. She makes a choked "ghhh--!!" noise, and goes rigid. You dangle the slimy toy in front of you, hanging it off your index finger. Meanwhile, you poke at her quickly sealed-off anus with your other hand.

"H-honey..." Charlotte stammers, fearful.

"I can't wait to have your pussy, Mommy..." you say.

"That's--" she gulps, and steadies her breathing, but can't hide the panic on her face. "Silly boy, th-that's not Mommy's pussy... you know? You've got the--"

You thrust your hips forward, and shove your cock brutally past her anal ring. Charlotte shrieks: "--WRONG HOLE! THAT'S THE WRONG HOLE, BABY!"

"Oh, fuck, Mom," you grunt, and exhale hard through your nostrils. It's an uncontrolled outburst, not a bit of play-acting. Charlotte's rear hole is so nice and vicelike, so soft and warm, and nicely lubed-up from the toy... what a delightful fit for your horny, rampant prick.

Charlotte loves to relieve your lust, even if it hurts for her. And so, seeing all that pleasure mask your face, she decides to let you have your way with her asshole. You sink slowly in, while Charlotte pants, her breaths shallow and rapid. You can feel every millimeter of her beautiful anus from the inside, parting like a flower, swallowing you up.

Biting her lower lip so hard that it draws a tiny trickle of blood, and with a crazed look in her eye, Charlotte says: "don't hold back, honey... fuck Mommy's pussy... it's extra tight for you tonight! Just for you!"

But the pain is too much for her grippy asshole to handle. She needs a bit to chew. Luckily, you've got just the thing handy. You slowly lower her used anal beads to her lips. Unblinkingly, and without hesitation, Charlotte opens her mouth to let you put them in. You sink them down into her throat, and when they've all disappeared, she seals her lips around the pullstring. Like a lollipop, then, she sucks her ass off the beads, while you bugger her hard. Her giant tits ripple and her tied-up thighs make great handlebars to brace yourself with. And that stupid face of hers, sucking on her own sex toy while she sweats and smiles through the pain -- is perfect.

"Tch-- Alabaster..." Rose is standing over you as you rut inside her mother. "You said you were going to share her with me when you got to her."

You shrug. "You were busy with Noelle."

She rolls her eyes. "Well now I'm done." She tugs a little on her strap-on, which is still oozing cum from the tip. "Make some room already. Let's DP her."

Charlotte's eyes are saucers. She had no idea you and Rose were planning this.

You rear back so you're on your haunches, cock still wedged up Charlotte's ass. Rose swings her shapely legs over Charlotte's waist, to straddle her. Your view, formerly of Charlotte sucking on her anal toy, is now obscured by your loving wife's smooth, fat butt. You can't help giving it a swat, which makes Rose yip in surprise, then glance back over her shoulder at you with an angry scowl.

"Oh stop," you tell her. "Let's fuck your mom already, huh?"

Rose smiles. She looks back down at Charlotte. "What are you thinking, taking Alabaster's cock for yourself, huh?"

Charlotte tries to say, "I'm sorry," but it comes out muffled because of the beads inside her gullet.

"You tell me practically every day that you want him to breed me, but here you are trying to get him to cum up you instead! Make up your mind!"

Rose gets the rubber dick held fast by its root, and rubs some of the fake cum around Charlotte's already sopping wet pussy.

"If you wanted to be a cum tissue so badly..." Rose says, voice developing that characteristic high lilt it does when she's really turned on, "...you should have just ASKED!" At that moment she slams her hips forward and fucks her cock up inside her mother's body.

Charlotte makes a loud, low gurgle. Her hands, tied firmly beneath her knees, flex and strain. If you thought Charlotte's anus was tight before, it's nearly unfuckable now. With Rose's dildo pressing down on Charlotte's vaginal canal, the already constrictive tunnel of her mature ass clamps down twice as hard as before. You make a low "oooooh" of your own to signal a mixture of pleasure and pain.

Rose holds her mother by the shoulders. The position Rose is forced to adopt to gain access to Charlotte's pussy while you fuck her too is downright obscene. She's in a stooping, squatting, bow-legged posture straight from hentai, and it presses her udders hard against Charlotte's straining face. It gives you a lovely view, too, of Rose's own puckered star, as well as the dildo's other end fucking in and out of her own humid cunt with every incestuous thrust she gives her mommy.

Tongue lolling from her mouth like a dog, Rose gazes up at the ceiling for a few thrusts. Then back down at her mother's face. Practically slobbering all over the poor woman, she rasps: "Do you want me to cum inside you? Huh? Do you want to cum inside you, bitch-mommy? Tell me!"

You start to slowly thrust, too, as you adjust to this unending tightness. Charlotte is practically having a seizure beneath you as you both use her to get off. You hear Rose's cunt spraying its fragrant juice all over her mother's thick body, and you see Rose taking the toy's pump in hand, ready at the first word to blow Charlotte's womb out with fresh hot semen.

Rose rips the beads from Charlotte's mouth and tosses them aside. Sucking down air, Charlotte yells: "Yes! Cum inside my pussy, Rose! You can BOTH cum inside me, whenever you want! I'm your cum-hole! I'm your dirty cum-hole mommy! Oh I'm sorry I'm such a slutty cum-hole... I'm sorry... but please... pleeeeease... I r--"

She stops short as Rose begins to dispense the creamy sperm she so wants.

You fall forward, spread Rose's ass, and start to lick her pussy from behind as she jizzes in her mother. Rose gets off hard, with that -- inside Charlotte, and against your face. She throws her head back and screams a string of incoherent obscenity while you and Charlotte both, in your own ways, egg it on. It might be the best cum your wife has ever had.

Rose is a little enervated after such a wet and messy orgasm. She collapses against Charlotte, nuzzles her. The two begin to kiss.

You pull out of Charlotte's ass. You haven't cum yet, but you know where your first load of the night will go.

Whitney is still viciously railing Amber, and the sound of their crotches pounding together fills the living room. Amber is shaking her head side to side, dazed; and Whitney is cumming on the very same dick she's using to rape Amber's underage twat.

Vivian, with her older sister's cum still dripping from her, hangs next to the mating pair, and watches dreamily.

"Do not be gentle," Vivian says. "She must be taught a lesson... rape her harder... no, Whitney, rape her even harder --  harder--"

"Hear that?" Whitney demands.

"Rape..." Amber stammers. "Rape..."

Well, she got the gist of it, at least.

"Exactly so," Vivian says. "Your holes are nothing more than Whitney's rape-sockets tonight... just as mine are. Be thankful that she sees fit to use us."

"Rape..." Amber repeats, gulping air. "T-thank you... thank you Whitney... thank you for raping me..."

You stop in front of your Mom. Her twat is sucking the dildo inside it like a mouth sucking a dumdum. She smiles lecherously at you.

"Charlotte couldn't get you off!" She says, somewhat egotistically.

"Yes she could," you say. Mom deflates, looking momentarily hurt by that, until you append: "I wanted to get off in you first, though."

She smiles. "You little pervert..."

You grip the dildo and take it out of her. Her pussy relaxes, letting you pull the thing away.

"Oh honey," Mom says. "I've been waiting... I'm ready for you. I'm so wet..."

She really, really is. Her pussy is flowing freely, staining the cushion beneath her. She's been making herself cum on that toy over and over, just by squeezing it... what a dirty woman your mother is.

But what she wants, more than anything, is for her son to squirt his seed inside her deepest parts. And how can you refuse the woman who gave birth to you? You sink in and start to fuck her, just the way you know she likes. The slight upward angle of your thrusts to rub her G-spot, the forceful but steady rhythm, and the way you gyrate your hips to scrape her clit with your pubes -- all calculated to bring her off to a thundering orgasm from her deep within her mommyhole. She shivers while you fuck her, exulting in it, and you paw her tits.

"Do you want to suck them, Alabaster?" She says.

Of course you do. You clamp your lips around one of her nipples and suck, just like you did those many years ago. And just like back then, she pets you. You hump her gash while you nurse on her, in utter bliss... you'll be dropping your load soon enough, and it's going to go inside her.

"That's so sweet..." Charlotte says. Even she can't deny how lovely it is to see a biological son mating carelessly with his biological mother.

"Told you he was a mama's boy," Rose says, and turns Charlotte's face towards hers again to suck on her tongue some more.

"Anytime you want, dear," Mom tells you. She holds your face to her huge chest. 

"I know," you mutter into her wet titmeat.

"You can cum inside anytime you want."

"Oh god, Mom..."

She massages your prick with her interior muscles -- milking you.

"I could get pregnant, you know." Her voice is husky.

"Oh fuck..."

"I don't mind." She sucks on your earlobe, and nips it too. "Actually... I want it. You're going to get us all pregnant tonight, okay? Can you do that for your Mommy, Alabaster? Can you knock us all up with that cock of yours?"

"Do you... do you really want that?" You say, gasping for air as you meet her eyes. "Or is that just something sexy for you to say? Tell me now because I'm about to-- to--"

"No, honey, no. I want it... I NEED it. I NEED to feel this, this ffffucking cock -- inseminating me... and then -- you can do the exact same thing to all of your sisters... and to everyone else."

"Mom--"

"I want us ALL to swell up. And then carry your children. All of us. So yes... fertilize us, Alabaster... we all want it... make your babies in us!"

"Oh my fucking God, Mom... I'm really gonna get you pregnant--"

"Do it! Do it, baby, do it!"

You bellow. Your nuts draw up towards your body, and your cock belches up a huge, milky load inside your mother's risky pussy. What a tremendous, joyful release it is. You can almost see, in your mind's eye, the sperm fertilizing her egg.

You dismount her when at last your cock is done burping, and watch with pleasure as some of your semen seeps out of her. She watches too. You use your thumb to mash it all around, and rub it into her cunt-mound. Not that she needs it; there's about a gallon left inside her.

"Rose next," she tells you.

Rose2 is on Mom's other side. You find her close to unconsciousness, still choking on that double-sided dildo in her throat. You elect to leave it.

"Did you hear that, Rose?" Mom asks. "Alabaster is going to impregnate you tonight. Isn't that wonderful?"

Rose2 weakly nods. Her face is absolutely coated in drool, making her makeup run, and she lies in a hot puddle -- one around her head, the other around her bubble butt.

"This is what you wanted," Mom tells her, "so savor it!"

Whatever Rose2 tries to say, it comes out sounding like "buhiii" from around the dildo in her mouth.

"Let's knock 'em both up at the same time!" Whitney grunts, giving Amber's coochie a couple deep, full-force slams. She's got her arms up under Amber's back, pulling the young teen's body towards hers on every upstroke.

You sight Rose stumbling past -- on her way to fuck Dr. Carte, it looks like.

"Not you," Dr. Carte groans.

"Oh yes, me," Rose says, grinning. She waves her ersatz cock over Dr. Carte's face. Little ropes of ersatz semen coat her features like icing over a cinnamon bun.

She grimaces. "I only agreed to this on the stipulation that Alabaster and/or Whitney would fuck me! Not you!"

"That's why it is me," Rose says playfully. Then, voice dropping half an octave, and getting much sterner, she says: "lick it."

Rose laces her fingers through Dr. Carte's hair and pulls Dr. Carte's face to the toy so that she has no choice but comply.

Rose2 is turning a little blue, so you decide to give her some much-needed oxygen at last. You take the pink cock out of her throat. It makes a wonderful wet sliding noise as you tug it free.

The first thing she says, hoarsely through a throatful of mucus and spit, is: "baby...?"

"Yes," you moan. You sink your still-hard cock into her candy-smelling pussy.

"M-make... m-make a baby?" Rose2 says.

"Yes."

"Inside...?"

"Fuck, you're so stupid," you growl. You start to really nail her, then, and Rose2, features blurred under all that slop on her face, smiles.

"Will you... will you kiss me, too?" Rose2 asks.

You tilt your head.

"Kiss me while we make a baby..." Rose2 pleads.

You kiss her. As gross a state as she's in right now, it's a lovely kiss -- her tongue is so eager, and as you root around in her mouth, that sweet lower hole of hers tightens up. Preparing itself to get bred.

"That's right, Rose," Mom says. "Let him cum in you. Let your brother cum in you..."

Rose2 nods desperately.

With their dual encouragement, it's not long before you're unleashing your second wad, so soon after the first. You paint Rose2's baby room white with your dense jism. Mother and daughter now match: your cum is leaking out of both of them as they lie hogtied together on the floor.

When you unload in Rose2, Whitney unloads in Amber. "Take it, fucking bitch!" Whitney spits. And then, she literally does spit -- she spits on Amber's face while she blows her load.

"Witneyyyyyy--!!" Amber cries. She's convulsing as her immature cervix gets battered and Whitney injects cum straight into the mouth of her uterus.

"Isn't it perfect?" Vivian says eagerly.

"That -- that spot," Amber pants. "That spot... she's hitting that spot... oh god... OH FUCK!"

"I love you Ally..." Rose2 breathes, a bubble forming and then popping on her lips.

You kiss her again. "I love you too."

Then you ram her a couple more times with your dick, forcing out a couple more dregs of semen into her body. "Get fucking pregnant," you growl.

"Yes Ally... I'll get pregnant for you..."

Gal is next. She's smiling brokenly as you approach, rotors still humming at full blast inside her little innie of a pussy. You tug them out one by one, each making a tiny plop. Her teeth chatter with unfiltered pleasure.

Rose meanwhile seems to have developed a sudden taste for that lewd posture she used to fuck Charlotte's pussy. Now she's using it to fuck Dr. Carte's mouth. Dr. Carte fights as best she can -- which is not at all, really -- as Rose sinks deeper and deeper into her. Rose, when she isn't bracing her hands against her own thick upper legs as she humps away, amuses herself by slapping Dr. Carte's titties, too. Just to add to the degradation. Dr. Carte wasn't on the Comiket payback list, but you suppose this might be comeuppance for that bachelorette party you heard so much about.

"choke me Sir," Gal says, drawing your attention back. "choke me while you rape me"

"What do you think?" You ask Cerise. "Should I choke your wife?"

"Choke her like a bitch," Cerise grunts, exhaling hard, and cumming on her own buzzing vibrators.

But Cerise is all of a sudden not so enthused, as Whitney's form shadows her, and Whitney's hands wrap around her pale neck.

"Awesome," Whitney says. "I'll choke you, too, then!"

"W-Whitney--" Cerise starts. "Take the rotors out at least-- hhhh-!!"

Whitney doesn't take them out. She fills Cerise's pink twat with cock, jamming the buzzing toys ever deeper into her, and starts to fuck. Meanwhile, she cuts off Cerise's pleas by tightening her grip on her neck. Cerise turns purple.

"make me pass out," Gal says. "dump your load while i'm unconscious..."

"Slut," you say.

"yes Sir," she agrees. "i'm your little chokeslut. don't let me breathe... knock me out and then knock me up"

What a greedy cunt Galatea can be when she's horny. You like her sales pitch though. You start fucking her, side-by-side with Whitney who's busily breeding your older sister. And at the same time, you choke Gal with an unmerciful force that completely cuts off all circulation to her brain. Whatever higher functions the rotors didn't kill, you are now. She becomes a drooling, dumb-looking, mush-brained moron as you rail her and strangle her simultaneously.

One of her eyes shut, the other shining bright, and with that same broken smile plastered across her face, Gal manages to choke out with a duck-like quack: "h-h-h-hit m-m-m-eeee"

The carnation pink rubies of her barely-there tits are a perfect target to start. You slap them like playing a drum set, first one and then the other, bruising the delicate flesh of her boobs. Gal is a true painslut, and this abuse you heap on her thin body makes her drooling pussy flutter around your dick as you thrust inside her.

"God, I really love fucking your sister," Whitney says, grinning at you like the cat who got the canary. She isn't choking Cerise nearly as hard as you're choking Gal, but it's enough to cause Cerise some distress. Of course, that distress could never stop your pervy sister cumming. Cerise wetly orgasms around Whitney's fucking cockshaft and the rotors in her cunt.

Whitney continues, delving into rant territory: "She's got a nice fat fucking ass, you know? And these beautiful fucking tits... she's so soft, all over... she's FAT -- your sister is such a pretty fat bitch, Ally, god! And her pussy... oh god... Ally, quick, come sperm her pussy -- I wanna eat it out of her..."

If only the world could see this CEO fucking this congresswoman like this... they'd all nut as quick as you're about to.

"Trade with me?" You ask Whitney.

"Yeah!"

"Can you beat Gal as hard as I'm beating her?"

"Fuck yeah, I can. I'll bash the bitch..."

You swap. Whitney mounts Gal and you mount your onee-sama.

You're a lot nicer than Whitney was. You don't choke Cerise -- you're too desperate for your third cum to focus on such a diversion. But you don't pull the toys from her quim, either.

"Alabaster-- Alabasterrrrr--" Cerise stutters.

Your lips pucker in lustful pleasure as you feel the rotors tickling your shaft. Your member, inside Cerise's body, pins the little buzzing eggs to her walls, and makes her cum on you. She's all sloppy, inside and out, for her little brother's dick to fuck her. And her hole encompasses you so nicely, like she's molded just to fit you. Maybe she is. She is your sister; and aren't sisters made to take their brother's cock?

Gal is woozy from everything you've done to her already. When Whitney climbs over her, all she can manage is: "cum...? cummmmm...? do you want to cum too mistress whitney...?"

Whitney barks at her: "Yeah. Get it all out. Drain my nuts, bitch."

She so loves playing like she's got an actual cock, in scenarios like these. She shoves the strap-on deep inside Gal, making it disappear all in one thrust, and picks up choking her right where you left off.

You stare down at Cerise, focusing your entire attention on her. She stares back. Although she's bound with red rope like a sex slave, and although she's been abused like one, too, for the past hour or so -- she's got utter adoration in her eyes.

"What about you?" You ask her. "Do you really want to get pregnant too?"

"Alabaster..." she moans softly.

"Whatever you want, Cerise," you heave.

"If it's you..." she whispers. "If it's you, Alabaster... I don't mind... you can make me pregnant, too."

You groan, deeply. Your brotherly cock mates with her sisterly cunt; and within a few moments, it spurts its jets of cream into her.

It could really take, this time. You get the sense that Mom's been whispering in her ear and really has convinced Cerise to quit the pill. The thought that you could be actually doing it, for real, this time -- impregnating your older sister on the floor of your mansion -- only makes your orgasm so much more powerful. Cerise's too. You cum together, all over the fucking place.

Gal is flagging. She starts to lose consciousness. Just as she asked: Whitney is choking her the fuck out. And at the moment that it fully happens, at the moment she fades to dreamland, Whitney jizzes in her. Grunting and sighing happily, Whitney pumps the poor slavegirl full of milky hot spunk.

"I love you, Alabaster..." Cerise tells you.

"I love you too. Are you really -- is this really--"

Your cock twinges inside her, oversensitive, and still being stimulated by the relentless buzzing of the rotors.

Cerise nods. "For real. I'm not safe."

You squirt another little stream of cum inside her, just hearing those three words.

You spend some long moments making out with her, enjoying the sweet flavor of Cerise's mouth, but Whitney is impatient. "Let me eat it! Let me eat her pussy!"

You step aside for Whitney to feast on Cerise's cunt -- knowing that as much of your spunk as Whitney will doubtlessly drink, lying on her tummy in front of Cerise... there's a lot more fermenting in spots that even Whitney's skilled tongue can't reach. Your sperm is racing up Cerise's insides right now, in search of her egg. That being the case, Whitney is more than welcome to clean all the cream you left oozing around the outsides of Cerise's cunt.

She does.

"God, it tastes so good," Whitney moans, like a starving woman finally fed. You jizz drips off her chin. "I love your creampie, Ally... I love your pussy, Cerise... fuck... I love it all..."

Cerise watches happily as Whitney licks her. Time to move to the next thing...

"Would you get off of her, already? Jesus..." You're standing before Rose and Dr. Carte, watching as Rose continues to nail the MILF's mouth like it's a pocket pussy.

"Just a... just a second..." Rose grunts. She tweaks one of her own nipples, other hand flat against her own leg, as she feeds the good doctor a good eight inches of rubber cock. The half of the dildo that's trapped inside Rose's pussy shifts and squelches, as she uses the vibrations of Dr. Carte's mouth to force it deeper into her uterus.

"Let her breathe," you say. "Fuck."

"I'm gonna-- gonna cum-- hold on--"

You pull your wife off Dr. Carte.

"God FUCKING damn it!" Rose shrieks, blue-balled. She tries to fight you off, but no use. You drop her to the floor like a wet bag of cement mix. Her naked, perspiration-covered body makes a wet slapping noise as she lands on the tile, and her whole body jiggles. Dr. Carte, finally able to get some air, gulps it down, humongous chest heaving.

"Go fuck our bunny," you instruct Rose, jerking your thumb in Samantha's direction. "She needs some cum in her."

Rose stomps off to take out her frustration on Samantha. Frustration which Samantha, wagging her hips, is only too happy to receive. "Yes Mistress Rose! Fuck my stupid pussy!"

You're not sure how a pussy can be stupid... but if such a thing exists, it belongs to Samantha Smatters. Rose sinks into her twat and starts to nail her. She spits horrendous epithets at her, too, through her teeth: "Slut. Cunt. Whore. Dirty fuckbitch. COCKSUCKING CUMDUMP! GET FUCKING CUMMED IN!"

Samantha, mewling, agrees to it all: "Yes! Yes! Yes! I am! I'm a stupid cumdump! Cum lots in my cumdump, okay!"

Dr. Carte's face is still painted with drying cum, and she looks much the worse for wear after the way Rose used her.

"Your wife..." she pants, "...is one real fucking bitch."

"Tell me about it."

"You gonna make it up to me?" She demands.

"Where do you want me to cum?"

"The very best place," Dr. Carte says, getting her breathing level again, and looking at you with smoky eyes. "If you can breed with your immediate family members, you can definitely breed with me too. Let's give Whitney another sister, huh?"

"I like that plan," you say, smiling. "But you know... you look so pretty with cum on your face, too..."

"No," Dr. Carte says. "Oh no no no. I did not just endure your fatass wife raping my mouth, only for you to give me a facial. You're cumming inside me today!"

"Bitch bitch bitch," you groan. You glance this way and that -- maybe there's a solution to this impasse, after all.

You get Dr. Carte underneath Vivian and Amber. Since the two are still hanging suspended from the ceiling, they make a great prop to dangle over Dr. Carte while you fuck her. You connect the tiny girls to one another by their cunts -- lodging Rose2's favored double dildo into either of them. This stimulates them, getting them to swing themselves back and forth under their own power and share the toy. This in turn stirs up their messy cunts, causing them to ooze the sperm that Whitney injected them with. The sperm froths out, all over their waifish thighs, and then down, in long ropy strands, to Dr. Carte's face. She peers up at the sight, unblinking, transfixed by the smooth cunnies above her -- and uncaring that those cunnies are spattering her with cock-leak.

It's just the perfect artpiece to fuck her to. Pollock, eat your heart out.

Vivian, lost in masturbatory delight, coos: "Amber... Amber, look... it's that mister from the tea party..."

Amber plays along. She giggles and says: "Yeah! He's so nice! Look, he's fucking your Mommy now, too!"

"Girls..." Dr. Carte says. "What are you--"

Amber giggles again. As she fucks with Vivian, bouncing on that shiny pink cock, ass slapping against Vivian's obscenely; she presses her chin towards her chest to gaze down at Dr. Carte. "And look... we're getting mister's white stuff all over your Mommy's face!"

"Do you think mister will let us eat his white stuff out of her?" Vivian asks.

"I hope so! Oh wow... wouldn't it be so great to lick up all of mister's milky-milk from your Mommy's naughty place? I bet it would taste so good that way!"

Dr. Carte has no idea how to process this depravity. But it's definitely making her already over-heated cunt get hotter.

"I'm sorry I brought this mean mister to fuck you, Mommy," Vivian says with fake remorse. "He likes to put his white stuff in girls like us. I thought you would have a bit of fun this way, too..."

"It's... it's fine, baby," Dr. Carte says.

"Are you having fun?" Vivian asks.

"Yes... yes I fucking am..."

"So then you like mister shooting his white stuff inside us too?" Vivian asks.

Dr. Carte, cumming herself silly, nods. "Girls... we... we all belong to this -- this coo-ooo-ooock--" she shudders, and cums again. The orgasms are destroying her ability to talk. She blinks, tries to breathe steady and to speak clearly: "Listen to me, girls. This cock -- OWNS us now. You -- HAVE -- you HAVE to let mister put his white stuff inside you -- WHENEVER he wants! Understand?"

"No problem!" Amber says, the cum still dripping off her cuntlet in fat droplets.

"Yes Mommy," Vivian agrees, also still leaking all over Dr. Carte. The two young girls slide the dildo in and out of their gashes.

"You're sluts now..." Dr. Carte says. She's in ecstasy. "You're sluts... just like me... we're all sluts..."

Amber says, in a singsong voice, as if testing out new vocab: "Sluts! Sluts, sluts, sluts... sluts for mister's cock..."

You can't hold back any longer. You nut in Dr. Carte, while Amber and Vivian sigh about how fun it is to feel mister's prick squirting its white stuff inside.

You lower Vivian and Amber to floor, when you're done spunking, so Dr. Carte can feast on a double helping of cummy loli pussy. It's the least you owe her after the way Rose was earlier. Amber and Vivian, ticklish there, giggle as Dr. Carte's perverted mouth travels from one hole to the other. She slurps and sucks carelessly.

Whitney find this scene just as hot as you do. By the time she's done eating your creampie from Cerise's twat, she's right on schedule to fuck her own mother. She winks at you as she seats herself in Dr. Carte's pussy.

"W-Whitney?" Dr. Carte gasps, her face full of Vivian's immature box, and unable to see who's fucking her.

"Ayup," Whitney says. "You still want some more spunk -- right?"

"God yes," Dr. Carte says.

With that, she continues sucking on Vivian's cunny and asshole while Whitney rails her.

Amber gets her fair share of attention, too -- and it's not just her battered holes getting tongued. Her front gets some love, too: while Whitney fucks Dr. Carte, she simultaneously finds endless fun gagging Amber with her fingers too.

You move down the line, to Noelle and Kay. Noelle is absolutely beside herself -- coated in cum and desperate for something, anything, to stimulate her. Kay is no better off. Her tight little pussy is totally slick with her juices and she's breathing hard.

Both of them keep their eyes locked on your swinging dick as you come near.

"Alabaster..." Noelle begs. "For God's sake -- just for a little bit -- untie me--"

You kneel above her head, and use your turgid member to smear around the cum that Whitney already left on her face. You draw circles and trace paths through the creamy white spunk. Then scooping some of it up with your cockhead, you turn towards Kay, and use it to smear her, too. (Share and share alike, right?) You relish the way both women's eyes go all droopy, and half-lidded, from the facial. Your musky dick is overriding any dignity they thought they might have had left.

"Who wants it more?" You ask.

"Me!" Kay shouts. "Fuck me!"

"No!" Noelle howls. "Me, I want it more! Put your cock in me! Please!"

Some lesbians these two are, huh? It'll take some creativity to solve this one, too. Luckily, you've got just the thing.

You flip Noelle to her stomach and dump her on top of Kay. The Christmas cakes are now face-to-face. But, perhaps more importantly, they're cunt-to-cunt.

"One more time," you grunt. "Who wants it more."

"Me! ME!" Noelle pleas.

"Fuck you, you stupid little--" Kay begins, snarling at Noelle. Then, to you: "GOD -- just a little bit, Alabaster, please? Please? Fuck me already!"

You slowly rub your prick back and forth between the meaty crevices of their cunts. Just this little bit of attention shuts them both up. They sigh, and stop their bickering to bask within that sensation, the sensation of your steely dick nestling itself between the folds of their fleshy fuckholes. There's unity, at last, in that. They begin to kiss, Noelle adding yet more cum-slop to the little bit you'd already smeared Kay with. Their faces, now, are equally filthy -- coated in smelly dick slime as they tongue each other's mouths and wait eagerly for you to push your dick inside them.

You begin with Kay. Her pussy is slightly hotter to the touch, and so feels slightly better enveloping your tool. She breathes an exhilarated breath right into Noelle's mouth. It's almost as if she's gloating about getting picked first.

But Noelle is unfazed. She gulps down Kay's breath with gusto and just keeps kissing her. Noelle is fine not getting any dick, for now -- if it means she can have her tongue inside Kay's mouth... this is what she wanted all along anyway.

After enjoying Kay's 30 year old pussy a little bit, you begin to alternate. You fuck Noelle for a few strokes, then slip into Kay, and back again. You don't bother to aim very well, since you're fucking them so hard and fast, and all their holes are cock-dumps anyway; so your penis slips its way past their tender assholes a few times, too. Noelle's quivering little butt is really easy to get inside -- she's definitely had a lot of practice with toys during lonely nights. Kay's asshole, though a bit more toned and supple, is harder to fuck -- well, she's always been a tightass. You can tell she's never been into anal masturbation. She tenses every time you stick it in.

Noelle soothes the pain, though. Her lesbian kisses are enough to make Kay relax quite soon after each time you accidentally-on-purpose bugger her.

So whose assfuck is better? And whose cuntfuck is better, for that matter? You can't say. You'll just have to give them both a hot load. They can share the victory, like everything else.

Groaning in delight, you begin to lose your nut inside Kay's pussy. You squirt her a few times, loving the deep-down relief of those wet pulses; then slip out, and jam it up Noelle's butt. After a few more creamy dollops for Noelle's rectum, it's into Kay's shuddering rear hole next, while she grunts and cums too despite getting ass-raped. And at last you finish cumming, thick and raw inside Noelle's lesbian pussy -- a pussy that doesn't know its owner is into girls -- a pussy that only knows its own biological imperative to gobble up semen. Noelle's sweet twat accepts your baby batter as you pump her full, and ultimately climaxes at the sensation of getting pregnant.

When you pull out of the messed-up dykes you just debauched, you spy Rose indulging in a little ass-rape of her own. Having spermed Samantha so severely that the bunnygirl looks like she got bukkake'd by a stable of horses, Rose now fucks Alex's ass like the horny bitch he really is. Alex's twitchy prick is leaking jizz from the tip, and all over his crotchless panties. He sighs up at Rose: "Yes... fuck my pussy... fuck it... fuck it!"

You would love to help. But you've got your sights set on a different prize.

You walk down the line of fucked-out, cummed-out bitches. From the bull dyke Christmas cakes you just jizzed in; to the lolicon doctor who's drowning in loli cunt, while her own daughter screws her; to your older sister who's still orgasming on the buzzing toys deep inside her newly-impregnated vagina, while beside her, lies her unconscious wife, bruised body leaking sperm from every orifice; to your candy-cotton imouto who loves you so, even when you break her on your cock; to both your fertile mommies who derived a sexual high off being inseminated by their children; to the trap boyslut who even now is getting pegged by your cruel wife (whose cruelty in this particular arena, you know, knows no bound); to your spermy pet bunny who's writhing around in a reeking puddle, and cumming just from being coated in the stuff; and ending, finally, at the untouched Qiangxiang Xi, who hasn't gotten fucked at all, at all, at all -- a girl whose cherry is just waiting for you to pop.

"How about now?" You ask.

"Fuck me," Qiangxiang says, without a moment's hesitation.

It isn't enough. Not for you. You cut Samantha free of the ties that bind her. You warn Qiangxiang: "ask me nicely -- or I'll have Samantha take your cherry instead."

Qiangxiang whines. "What -- what? What more could you possibly you want of me?" Her breathing goes ragged. Desperation tinges her every syllable. "Alabaster... Ally... I will do, or say, anything... anything... just, just please, just don't delay a second longer. I need you. I need you inside me."

She's getting there. You stand over her, cock oozing, and say:

"Beg."

"I am begging."

"Beg harder."

"Ally -- you own me now. You own my body. Inside and out -- my holes, my womb! I belong entirely to you. You, and your penis." She gulps. "So, then... if you would be so kind... and tear my hymen with that wonderful penis -- whose property I am. I will never say another cross word to you as long as I live."

"Hold her down," you tell Samantha.

"Yes master!"

Samantha gets behind Qiangxiang, Qiangxiang's head in her lap, and holds the girl's thighs for you. "Pop her cherry okay!"

Qiangxiang obviously finds this repulsive -- the way Samantha's cum-slick body gets its mess on her, too. But she can't be bothered to care deeply; because she's too intently focused on the dick that's about to rob her virginity. She stares at you through slitted eyes, her brown body dewy with both sweat and her arousal. Her new piercing jitters with every beat of her thudding heart.

You line your prick up with her mound, thrilling to the way her lips grip the underside of your prick. You wordlessly indicate to her,  like this, exactly how deep into her small body you're about to penetrate. If that tattoo of hers truly indicates the location of her womb... then you're about to push that womb back a good four or five inches, at least.

She's fearful and eager, both at once.

"One more time," you tell her. "Beg me one more time."

"Please fuck my pussy, Ally. Please. Take my cherry."

You take Qiangxiang's cherry. You push your cock past her entrance, with utter ease despite her size, because her slimy cunt is so ready for it. The thin membrane inside her, her maidenhood, gives way without you feeling a thing. But you find that telltale trickle of blood staining your prick as you pull a little ways out of her to check it. It's not pillow-talk. She really was cherry. Keyword was. Now she's just another in your stable of cocksluts. Samantha pets her encouragingly as she watches on.

"Doesn't master's cock feel good!" Samantha sings. "Doesn't it!"

But Qiangxiang cannot formulate an answer. She's agog, and staring at the way her tummy bulges in the outline of your slowly entering cock. That lewd drawing Amber made on her groin is distending a bit, warping, as your prick pushes against it from underneath. And so that means her very most intimate spot, her formerly virginal uterus, is getting rudely battered with your manly cock.

Samantha reaches across. She starts to tickle Qiangxiang's clit.

Qiangxiang shakes like she'll come apart. "No -- nooo--!!"

All at once, she cums. She cums from your cock corrupting her, and Samantha jilling her; she cums from the perversity surrounding her. She cums against you, squirting against your tummy as you fuck her. And that -- the erotic texture of her clamping pussy, of her undulating womb begging to get spunked -- it sets you off too. You cum inside little Qiangxiang Xi, formerly your enemy, and now your personal-use cunt.

As you seed her, you kiss her, and Samantha claps for the happy coupling.

Then Samantha delights in forcing Qiangxiang to lick her clean. Because even Samantha can sometimes be domineering.

---

The fucking doesn't stop there. It continues, for hours, in so many combinations and formats. You cut the girls free from their shibari, all of them -- and the orgy becomes the love pile to end all love piles. It's nearing dawn before everyone has exhausted themselves too hard to keep cumming.

You survey the scene before you, feeling truly like a king. Qiangxiang curled at your feet, suckling on your dick. Samantha meanwhile suckling on Qiangxiang's cunt. Noelle entangled with Kay. Vivian entangled with Amber. Rose getting rimmed by her mother. Mom eating Gal's cunt -- even though Gal is still passed out; Cerise fingering Rose2's butt. Alex, voice shrill, getting his cock sucked by Whitney. When Alex finally cums, maybe the last orgasm of the evening, Whitney catches it, then stands up over him, and drools it right back into his open mouth. He drinks his own spunk, eyes glassy, smiling.

Whitney, then, finds her Mom. She lies atop her, and the two lovingly gaze at one another. They spontaneously begin trading Eskimo kisses -- giggling like a couple of newlyweds.

Amber, panting, a palm to her forehead, puts the capper on it all. She glances your way and asks you something she often does after marathon sessions like these:

"Gee, mister... that's a real swell act you've got there... but what do you call it?"

"The Aristocrats," you tell her, completing the punchline.

---

Alex's estimate of when the team remaining at Darkbloom Analytics could finish Diogenes turns out to have been really generous. Even with Alex's detailed instructions, and 90-something percent of the codebase already assembled -- that dev group of 50+, working round the clock, takes until a little past 4 PM the following day to approach the finish line. You wonder whether those poor bastards know that they're working for a potemkin general; a cutout in the shape of Max Pershing, harboring the mind of Alyosha Kerimov. Nelson knows the truth, but do his reports? Are the worker bees at Darkbloom Analytics blindly slouching their way towards their own death, thinking all the while that they'll finally get out of the office when they're done, unaware of the true plans for them?

They surely don't know that the floor of the basement is about to get blasted to smithereens so that hundreds of violent rebels can pour in.

You feel ill.

"nelson is at his workstation" Gal reports.

You all crowd around the PC to watch, but you can't make sense of the bare-bones powershell that Gal types commands in and spies on the company through. Alex can, though. He asks Gal to type something, and when she does it, and the command prompt reports back to her, Alex tells you:

"Nelson's pushing it to the servers -- Diogenes is going live."

You clack a message to Auburn Brantly, simple, and to the point:

>Go.

The rest is up to god.

The world around you thrums, then. Just for a moment. The edges of your vision take on strange contours, like reality through a funhouse mirror; warp and become blindingly bright, white. You glimpse, too, the others adjusting to their new firmware. Gal throws her head back in her chair, letting out a low whine. Vivian stumbles, nose beginning to bleed, then steadies herself against her sister, who hugs her. Amber blows air through her nostrils like she got punched in the chest, and falls to her butt; Mom helps her back up.

Your entire endocrine system seems to slowly lurch. It's similar to the fearfully-anticipated yet somehow unexpected split-second transition of the roller coaster from the plateau into the drop. But it's all somehow more tangible than a jolt of adrenaline coursing electrically through you. It feels like a physical thing within you, something alien, separate from Alabaster Soliloquy -- extruding like a strand of bread dough, into an absurd length, and then folding over itself like a pretzel. Your whole system is in a tizzy.

Then it's done. Your vision settles, and your little bit of indigestion dissipates. Back to normal? Whatever normal means anymore. You glance from face to face, to confirm the others are okay. They are. Vivian wipes her nose with a tissue proffered by Whitney; Mom clutches Amber tightly despite the latter's embarrassment; Gal resumes typing, to ensure the job is really done. But you know the job is done. You all possess Diogenes, now.

Rose2, crying hot tears, flees from the room.

"Rosie--" Cerise calls. She's the one physically closest to her tanoshii imouto-chan, standing with her near the edge of the living room; and so she gives Rose2 chase, upstairs -- to find out what's eating at her so badly. You follow suit.

When you get to Rose2's pink-and-pink-and-pink bedroom, you find her on her knees on the carpet, crying into Cerise's bosom. Cerise gently strokes her head and back, hugging her, cheek resting on the top of her crown.

"Shh," Cerise says. "What's wrong. It's okay. Go ahead."

"I... I..." Rose2 sputters.

You kneel with the pair too. "Do you feel okay?" You ask. "Physically." You're less concerned with emotions right now; Rose2 is at the nexus of some pretty serious shit -- you need to make sure those tears aren't because something is going from bad to worse.

"I... I..." Rose2 sputters again, like trying to force back a fit of hiccups. At last she manages it: "I'm so scared! I'm so scared, Ally--!!"

You wouldn't vocalize it, but that's a relief. She's only scared. That's understandable. A scared girl, you can deal with. You know plenty.

"I didn't want to say anything..." Rose2 continues. "I didn't want to get on your nerves.. But -- if this Diogenes thing is the opposite of Sand Reckoner -- and Sand Reckoner is the only reason I exist--! Do you see!"

Cerise lets you take Rose2 into your arms, and you embrace your candy girl. You soothe her much the same way Cerise did, stroking her neon hair, kissing her sweetly smelling face. It doesn't seem to help. Cerise sits on the edge of the bed, watching.

"We'll keep you safe," Cerise says.

"You have to promise--"

"We promise," you tell her. You rock her back and forth.

"I..." Rose2 begins. She goes still, all of a sudden, in your grasp. You cock your head and gaze questioningly down at her.

"Rose?" You say.

She hiccups -- for real. Her face twitches.

"Are you--" you begin.

"I'm-- I'm o-okay-- I'm sorry, Ally... don't... worr... yy..." She dissolves into hiccups. A few seconds later she tries again. "S-silly! A-a-a-durr. I'm fine. I'm fine! I'm fine!"

Cerise's face curls into a frightened gape. You take Rose2 by the shoulders and lightly shake her: "Get ahold of yourself -- it's okay -- it's gonna be okay."

"Of c-course, o-of course it will!" Rose2 stammers. She pulls away from your hug, wearing a smile so forced it looks like a rictus -- which rather than convince you it's all okay, only accentuates the fact that she's in the midst of a panic attack. "I'm okay-- I'm okay!"

She vomits.

It's like a baby's emesis, no projectile force to it; she doesn't even seem to notice that her mouth and lips have burped up some of her own stomach's contents. Her eyes are shimmering and her chin is dripping with half-digested food. She gazes at you.

"Oh my God--" Cerise says.

"D-don't worry, nee-chan!" Rose2 says.

"Rose..." you breathe.

"I-- I want to--" Rose2 says, with obvious difficulty. Her words become slurred, like a stroke victim, and she sways slightly. "I want to exist..."

She locks eyes with you.

"B-because -- because you called me Rose..." She draws a labored breath. "Al-- Ally..."

She begins to shake, and

You stand, glancing back at Cerise.

"Does it smell like candy in here, all of a sudden?" You say.

Cerise shrugs. "I don't know. Not really. I mean -- Amber drinks a lot of lemon ramune, so maybe it's that?"

You glance all around. "No. Amber hasn't actually slept in this room for weeks."

Cerise huffs. "Yeah. Sleeping with Daddy -- ugh."

"Anyway, it's not that." You frown, trying to think. "It's something... sweeter. Like -- if the color pink had a smell. You know?"

"I have no fucking idea," Cerise says. "...Shouldn't we be downstairs?"

"Was there someone in here with us just now?" You ask.

Cerise peers at the bedspread. She thinks hard. "No... no, just us."

You swivel your head, to take stock again of the room. Only Amber's politically ambiguous but uniformly radical paraphernalia is arrayed all about. Still... the phantom of something else lingers -- clawing at the edges of your consciousness. You couldn't say what. "It feels like someone else was with us. Doesn't it?"

Cerise is mute.

"Why are we here?" You ask her.

"What do you mean?"

"Why are we even up here? You're right -- we should be downstairs -- why aren't we?"

Cerise blinks. "I don't know. Fuck. I have no idea. There's just this... blank spot, in my memory..."

"Great." You massage the bridge of your nose and sigh. "Guess reality is coming undone again."

You close your eyes, trying to fight it back, but tears are starting to trickle.

"Alabaster?"

You inhale once, shudderingly, and wipe your face. "Forget it. I don't know what my deal is. I just kinda feel like--" you shake your head. "I feel like I lost someone just now."

Cerise's face is grim. "I hope not. We should go back down."

You half expect to go downstairs and find that everyone you love is dead. But they're all there. Cerise, Whitney, Rose, Vivian, Amber, Gal, Dr. Carte, Alex, Kay, Noelle, Charlotte, Samantha. Even Qiangxiang. And, of course, Mom. Everyone is here and accounted-for. Aren't they?

They were right, whoever said the waiting is the hardest part. It's been a couple hours since then, and you've been just waiting, agonized, for the noise of your security trying to battle back waves of Russian hitmen.

Nothing comes.

And if Auburn succeeded in breaching Darkbloom Analytics, the news isn't reporting on it. The channels all still carry the same aerial images of the streets outside the campus, swarming with people, and besieged by police.

"The news never shows the good shit," Kay says, harrumphing. "Trust me."

Time to check up on it the other way.

Amber pulls her eyepatch back for a moment. You hug her tight to help her through what you assume will be her usual bout of pain -- but it fails to materialize. She can gaze through her evil eye just fine. Physically, at least. She drops the eyepatch back over her empty orbit, lower lip quivering.

"What did you see?" Mom asks.

"They killed him."

"They--" You begin.

"He's dead. Down there in the sewers. They shot him."

"Who?" You ask.

But you know who; and Amber is weeping into your shoulder, unable to continue.

What else did she see? You suspect there's more. Maybe you don't want to know.

"What about Nelson?" Whitney asks. "And everyone else?"

"I don't know," Amber mutters.

"Where's Alyosha?" Noelle adds.

"I don't know!" She shrieks. She pulls back from your chest and your wet tee. "I can't see into the building! I don't know! I'm sorry!"

Noelle worries her thumbnail. "Should we go in ourselves?"

"No," Kay says. "If Amber's thingamabob can't see inside Darkbloom Analytics -- that means Alyosha's hiding. He's expecting us."

"But what else can we do?" Whitney says.

"Give it a day," Darkbloom tells her. His robotic voice chimes out from Johann, over by the desktop.

"What!"

You have to swallow your pride, and agree with David Darkbloom. "Give it a day," you say. "If they haven't come gunning for us by this time tomorrow... we can figure out a new course of action then."

"But Nelson!" Whitney shouts.

You fix her in your gaze. "Nelson is most likely dead. I'm sorry." She turns away from you. You say, more firmly: "We have to focus on us now... Whitney -- Whitney!"

She's inconsolable.

---

That night, Amber is weirdly insistent on sleeping in her own bedroom. She refuses to lay her head anywhere else. She still wants you and Rose to keep her company, though.

Amber is waiting for you there. Rose, with you in your own bedroom, the one you now unwillingly share, gathers up a couple pillows from your marital bed, plus Amber's favorite stuffed bear Plissken.

She falters when you don't follow her back out into the hall.

"Aren't you coming?" Rose asks.

"I'll be there -- just need a second. Keep her warm for me."

Rose smiles. "Of course. I'll help her practice kissing."

Rose's idea of helping Amber practice kissing is making Amber rim her. It's the kind of gently abusive and cruel thing she's really into, now that Amber is committed to calling her Mommy and all. It actually does improve Amber's kissing technique, shockingly enough. Rose always makes Amber treat the situation like she's kissing any other mouth, and instructs her carefully.

You'll join them soon for the kind of really raunchy, fucked-up sex that usually puts your mind off your troubles. But for now, you need just a moment to yourself, to think. You rarely get that these days.

Did you lose someone?

Rose -- did you lose Rose?

But no. Of course Rose is still around, she was just here, and now she's with Amber.

Something is so wrong, so broken, and you have no idea what.

Qiangxiang, of all people, interrupts your reverie. She knocks on your door, entering at the same time.

The tips of her hair are bleach-blonde now -- another Samantha Smatters special, you assume. She wears a crop top and short-shorts. Kinda reminiscent of Amber's fashion sense, now that you think of it. The outfit anyway shows off her darkened skin, plus the tattoo and piercing.

"Hello Ally," she says simply.

"Did I invite you in?"

"Yes."

You sigh. "I mean into my bedroom."

She saunters up.

"You took my cherry," she whispers.

"I did."

"You were rough -- are you always so?"

"Usually."

She kisses you tenderly, standing between your legs at the foot of the bed. You kiss her back, holding her small face in your hands.

"You have corrupted me," she says at last, as she pulls away. "Are you happy?"

"I don't know."

"Would you like to uncorrupt me?" Qiangxiang asks you.

"How would I even begin to do something like that?"

She smiles. "With tenderness."

>[x] Give her the tenderness.

[ ] Deny her.

You pull Qiangxiang -- Chloe -- into your bed with you.

You swiftly shift positions, getting Chloe onto her back -- you atop, on all fours. Like a lion strutting over felled prey.

"I am a slut," Chloe says. Her voice is full of shame, rather than arousal. "You have seen my real face now."

You bend forward, and kiss.

"I wanted you to know," she adds, eyes dreamy, "that it wasn't you... I was always a slut. I've been a slut even before you knew me."

"No you weren't," you tell her. Between kisses, you add: "No you aren't."

"But--"

"Don't take what other people say so seriously."

There's a pause as you enjoy the touch of one another's lips.

"I was worried you only valued purity," she says. "So I tried, you know..."

You get your hand in between the elastic waistband and Chloe's hips. She sighs. "Do you think you will survive tomorrow?" She asks.

"No idea."

"I might be your last fuck. Are you fine with that?"

"You're not my last. Not close."

She giggles. "Insatiable. Ally. If I cannot be your last... at least make me your best."

Your fingers find the crevice of her newly deflowered pussy. She arches her back, making a staccato gasp at the sudden contact. You take that moment to run your other hand under her crop-top, to fondle her tiny breasts. Your palm can completely encompass each of them in turn. As small as they are, they're so soft and squishy, too. With a nipple of hers pinched between your fingers, you bite her neck -- suck on it -- taste her sweet skin.

"You tease me so terribly," Chloe whines.

"Teasing girls is fun."

"Please take off my pants..."

You roughly grab the denim and tug. The little pair of shorts slides down her supple calves, and off her severely arched feet. You toss them to the corner.

Her little pussy is all dewy, and the clit is all hard; she's probably been wet all day, just thinking of the moment she could get you alone and have you to herself. Now she's abuzz with unbridled energy, practically vibrating, as she watches you rub her slit. Her neck stains. And her eyes are smiling, even though her pointed jaw is hanging partway open.

"You truly are a rough man," she says.

"Is this rough?"

"No -- but -- I want you to be rougher."

"That's too bad," you tell her. "You don't always get your way."

You clasp her, invade her mouth with your strong wet tongue. She inhales through her nostrils to fully absorb your masculine scent. While you fondle her mouth from the inside, you trace your fingertips across her smooth body -- such a slight, skinny frame. Flat as a board, short as a kid. She basks in your caress, and slakes her lustful thirst by sucking your tongue.

"I am in love with you," she tells you.

You pull your pants down, revealing your already erect cockshaft and bulbous, purple head. You're dripping precum. And you're ready to feel her insides around you, properly this time, without any bells and whistles.

"Raw -- always raw?" She asks, eyesight fixed on your cock.

"Yes."

"You intend, also, to impregnate even me?"

"If it happens, it happens."

"Take me, then."

You take her. You fall to your elbows, one on either side of Chloe's head, and slide your prick into her body. The moan that escapes your lips is loud and almost pained. She was wet on the outside -- torrentially flooded on the inside. You can feel every little strand and dollop of her thick juice inside her, flowing off her walls, coating your penis. As smooth as her pussy looks, it's bumpy where it counts; her folds and ridges sweetly massage your horny prick.

The bed squeaks beneath the two of you while you mate.

"You will -- wake -- the others --" Chloe says between shivers.

"Nothing they haven't seen."

"Bu--"

You cut off Chloe's resistance by forcefully mashing your lips to hers. She wraps her ankles around your butt, and grabs her wrist with her other hand behind your back. You've been in such a position hundreds of times with so many others. You never tire of it. Being connected to a girl at both ends, lying on top her, with her limbs wrapped around you -- the way she welcomes your every violation... this is heaven. You're at the gateway to heaven. You're going to sully Chloe Xi's tiny pussy with another wad of cum, her second in less than 24 hours, and both of you are elated.

"Is this... what it should be like?" Chloe asks.

"Yes," you grunt, nipping at her earlobes. You run your hands through the hair on the back of her head, knuckles dragging against the Egyptian cotton of your pillowcases. You pull her tight to your body, as if trying to merge yourself to her. Your skin sticks together, adhered by your joint sweat. Your crotches slap wetly as you increase the pace, notch by notch. Relentlessly you rub your cock inside her, coaxing yourself to orgasm.

"You will finish inside me?" Chloe asks.

"Always inside."

She hugs you tighter with her arms and legs.

"Here it comes," you warn her, sighing.

"I want it all -- I want all of you -- do this forever -- Ally!"

You feel like you could. Your nuts surge, and then the tip of your prick opens up to spew its mess inside her womb. As you fill her full, you gaze lovingly into her eyes. She smiles up at you, mouth curling into an O, while she orgasms. She did this of her own free will, came to you for relief; and you accepted her of your own free will. Her bravado now washed away, her pride and arrogance, her facade of viciousness; leaving only this. In the end she was only an infatuated girl. And she really wanted you. Now she's yours. Take responsibility.

GIRLS FUCKED: 16/12

Having spent yourself so much, you feel yourself drifting into the abyss of unconsciousness.

You should go and be with your wife, and with Amber -- or with someone else -- but for just a moment, you need a catnap. 20 or 21 minutes, max, to rest your tired eyes.

Chloe runs her fingers through your damp hair. "Ally..." she whispers.

"Just a second..." you whisper back.

"Mm. Okay."

Your eyelids droop closed.

You wake again, sometime later -- how late you aren't certain.

You aren't in control.

Chloe is getting dressed again. You're looking at her; you can't look away.

"We have to go," she tells you.

You try to speak, and can't.

She crawls back into bed with you, on hands and knees. She strokes your cheek. "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking: what have you done to me?"

Bingo.

"You did it to yourself," she says. "But -- then again -- you didn't. You were the victim. David Darkbloom experimented on you. He burnt the life you knew to ashes... he tarnished you. The world broke because of what he did to you and those children, back then -- have you realized that?"

She frowns.

"It's what we share in common," Chloe says at last. "The broken past. We can work together to fix it. You... you alone are the memory of this world, Alabaster Soliloquy. Follow me. We will kill Kerimov -- and find the lighthouse -- and fix it all."

You follow Chloe down the hall, against your will.

You have some time, in the silence, to think. Piecing it together...

What her men uncovered in Vail -- the scraps of that prototype Diogenes platform Alex built while imprisoned.

All the time she spent inside Darkbloom Analytics. Did you keep your secrets guarded closely enough? Apparently not.

The concept Alex told you about, the master-slave architecture of the Chinese Sand Reckoner spinoff known as Xi Shi --

That must be it. Chloe is driving your body right now. Your heart sinks.

And it sinks again, even deeper, as Chloe leads you into Vivian's bedroom.

Vivian dozes under the covers, unaware. Chloe shadows her.

You want to tell her how sorry you are. But you can't; you're mute.

Chloe gently pulls Vivian's covers back. Vivian stirs, but doesn't wake.

Johann the penguin, one eye glowing blue in the dark, stares back. Vivian may sleep, but her father doesn't. He's always awake -- one of his condition's minor curses. You somehow can tell that Chloe doesn't control him, at least not yet; he could speak, if he chose. But he knows better. To speak, to wake Vivian, would be to kill her.

Chloe takes the stuffed toy in hand, and together with you, you exit. Vivian's slumbering face disappears behind the softly closing door.

Outside the bedroom, Chloe takes Johann's glass eye out and tosses it carelessly to the ground. She fishes her finger into the cotton batting, and turns the implant's grain off. The blue glow dies. David Darkbloom does sleep, sometimes, after all.

You almost make it out of the Nail House without being detected. But not quite.

You and Chloe bump into Whitney coming the other way down the second floor hallway. She's scratching her ass, groggy. She startles when she sees you.

"Ally," she says. "Whoa. I was just coming to find you. Were you coming to find me too~?"

You so desperately want to scream, "run!" -- but you can't.

"Go back to bed," Chloe says.

"...Huh?"

"Go to sleep," she says.

"Ally," Whitney says, voice growing severe. "What's happening? Why are you sneaking around like this with Chloe? And -- what the fuck are you doing with bio-dad -- ? Is this another dumbass suicide mission?" She stomps. "You can't just run around on suicide missions without telling me! You asshole!"

"I don't want to do this, Whitney, but I will," Chloe says.

"Shut up, bitch," Whitney says.

You speak, but they aren't your words:

"Go to bed already. Leave me alone."

Whitney swallows hard. "Ally... why?" She narrows her eyes. "That's not-- this isn't-- no. I'm getting Rose and Amber and--"

Chloe slips her dagger into your hands.

You slip the dagger into Whitney's throat.

Your elbow locked, your fist so tightly clenched around the handle that your knuckles blanche: you stab Whitney in the neck.

She gurgles, meeting your eyes. She tries to say something but nothing will form, her larynx is already destroyed. But the expression in her eyes as the life drains from them says it all. She doesn't understand. She doesn't understand why -- you don't, either.

She falls to her back, exsanguinating in the hallway. And then she goes. Whitney is dead.

You can't even vomit. Chloe won't let you.

A scream from down the hall catches Chloe's attention. Samantha is running away: "No! Oh no! Chloe's gone crazy! She killed Whitney! Help! Help!"

Chloe tsks. "That damn bunny girl..." She looks your way. "We have to hurry. She just woke everyone in the house."

You and her slip stealthily out. You get into your Volt, in the driver's seat, and fire it up; Chloe sits beside.

"Where am I taking you?" Chloe says, asking your question for you. "I'm taking you where it all began. Darkbloom Analytics. We have unfinished business."

Power is still out in much of the valley, and your headlamps are the only illumination on the darkened roads. The sound of raucous rioting draws closer.

Even Samantha knew... even Samantha knew that you weren't really the one who murdered Whitney.

You try to convince yourself that in her final moments, Whitney knew it too. That her last moments on the planet were not spent in despair at the idea you'd betray her.

But didn't you?

May 1, 2015

You drive Mrs. Mallory's Volt, with Whitney in the passenger seat.

"Shit!" She grunts. "Pull a Yui here."

"Yui?" You say. "Which Yui? What do you mean, pull a Yui?"

"Just turn at the next light. You missed the entrance."

Oh. That's what she means. You pull a U-ie.

Rose and Cerise, in the back, look a bit seasick at the sudden shift of momentum. You're not the greatest driver. You have a license, but you don't have a ton of practice.

You pull into the entrance of the diner. This is the place Whitney demanded. Though you and Rose wanted to go somewhere nice like a Benihana grill, Whitney wanted to slum it, and practically screeched for you to take her to this greasy spoon. She claimed that since she scored the winning point, she deserved her pick of the litter for the celebratory meal.

You don't see the appeal. So maybe it's for the best after all, that Whitney places your order for you. She gets a milkshake, extra-extra-extra large, served in a mug that looks like it's got about a half gallon capacity. It comes slathered in whipped cream, fudge, cherries, and nuts. She shares the gargantuan abomination with you. A straw for her, a straw for you.

Rose, who hasn't had an appetite since lunch, orders just a salad, and this she only pokes at. Cerise takes beer. Beer seems to be about all she can ingest right now, still shaken over... that night... which is why you forced her to come along. Keeping an eye on her.

Cerise and Rose look about equally ill, now that you think about it, though for different reasons. And they're about as happy as you are (not at all) to sit in this chintzy diner with its faux 50s chic: the checkerboard tiles, the paintings of Cadillacs on the walls, the jukebox playing rocakbilly tunes from bygone days.

Your sister and your cousin (once removed) both end up excusing themselves to the restroom at the same time. Mostly, you think, to get away from the gaudy lights and noise of the place.

"Am I the greatest or what?" Whitney says. Sitting across the booth from you, she props her cheeks on her fists, and slurps the sugary slop in the mug. "I saved the fucking quiz bowl. Admit it."

"One question," you tell her. "One. Question. You only answered one question."

"The most important one of all!"

You drink with her in silence.

"Hey..." she says softly. "I heard you were taking Rose2 to prom."

"Yeah, so?"

"Uhh. Well. Why?"

"Because I'm unbearably, completely in love. I adore her so much -- her sweet summer scent, her--"

Whitney kicks you in the shins, hard, beneath the table.

"Ow!" you yell. "What the hell. I should have you committed."

"You lying jerk! Tell me the real reason or I'll kick you harder next time!"

You wipe your mouth. "I did it to annoy Rose. Rose1, that is."

"I knew it."

You smirk. "Isn't it for a good cause, then?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

She trails off.

"But what?" You say.

"You could have taken me."

She says it all at once, and then she blushes, realizing herself. You arch an eyebrow. "I mean -- to annoy her. That would have annoyed her just as much. And then you wouldn't have had to deal with such an annoying dork at prom, too."

"Yeah. I'd have to deal with an annoying idiot instead," you reply. She kicks you again.

"God!" You grunt in pain. "Are you wearing your soccer cleats?"

"No. I just don't kick like a girly man."

You glance under the table just to make sure she's telling the truth. Nope, no cleats.

"You said you hated school dances anyway," you tell her, glancing back up.

"Yeah. But."

"But?"

"You said that too. And you're going with the Flamingo Weeaboo anyway!"

"To annoy Rose!" You insist. You glance furtively over your shoulder, to make sure that bitch isn't listening in -- it would be just so like her, to listen in. You lower your voice. "To annoy Rose," you repeat, whispering. "That's the only reason. I swear. I'm not gonna have any fun."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Promise promise?"

"Yes. Jesus."

She takes another sip.

"Hey..." you say. "I never asked. How did you know?"

She laughs. "That you were taking that dumb bitch to prom?"

"Not that," you say. "The question you answered. The oology thing. Where did you learn that?"

She pokes your shoulder.

"Really?" You ask.

"Yeah."

"When did I teach you that?"

"One day after class while you were dorking out with your trivia books. I was there with you."

"I should thank you," you tell her. "I somehow forgot the most important thing."

"That's why you've got me," Whitney says. She points at herself with her thumb. "Smartest girl in the universe!"

"Smartest girl in the universe," you say.

She blinks rapidly. Her face flushes. Hearing it from your lips is different.

"I decided something," she says.

"What's that?"

"I'm gonna stay with you. Even after school -- even after college. You kinda need me -- right?"

You shrug. The truth is that you couldn't imagine your life any other way -- Whitney's been part of it for so long. You assumed it would be that way forever.

"When you're some bigwig CEO someday," she says, "you're gonna need me to kick your butt sometimes and remind you of the stuff that you forget!"

"Sounds good," you say, sincerely.

You finish your milkshake together in warm silence.

END OF EPISODE 13.