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“The next act is ready, Mr Morris.”

Penny, the talent agent’s prim and proper secretary handed the clipboard over to her boss.

“Seems to be a family affair,” she whispered.

Mr Morris grunted, looking up from the clipboard as the house lights dimmed.

An elderly gentleman, dressed in magician’s attire marched onto centre stage. He stood peering into the empty old theatre.

“Well, get on with it, man!” Mr Morris grumbled from the font row as the pause became awkward. “You’ve bought your whole family, it says here. What is it you all do? Just another family magic show?”

Ah well.” The old magician coughed and doffed his hat. “Perhaps it’s best we show you. But first, can I please have an assistant from the audience. You there, young lady”. He beckoned to Penny, predictably, given she was the only other person there.

Penny looked at her boss for approval, received a tired nod, and stood. She straightened her blue and white polka dot dress, checked her blonde curls were in place and made her way up the three stairs to the stage.

Giggles emanated from the shadows behind, and a little voice declared “Oh, she’s cute!”

A young teen boy, dressed in grey shirt and pants, much like Oliver Twist, scurried onto the stage with a wooden chair, placing it front and centre before scurrying off.

“Thank you, son.” The magician said. “He’s a good lad, my Jacob. None too bright, but always remembers his cues.”

“Now then miss, take a seat, what a lovely dress. What’s your name my sweet?”

“Penny”, came the shy response as she sat down, hands clasped in her lap, white plimsolls together on the polished stage floor.

The magician chuckled. “How fortuitous!”

From behind her earlobe he pulled a shiny new penny. Twisting it in front of her face, it caught the spotlight beaming down on them.

“For your thoughts?” he asked.

Mr Morris shifted in his plush red velvet seat, irritated “Come on, you’re the last act of the day. You must do better than that!” He yelled.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m just breaking the ice with the young lass. It gets better. Penny dear, forgive my crudity, but would you be so kind as to check your brassier?”

Penny blushed and couldn’t help looking down at her pert breasts. Sure enough, slipped inside one bra cup, a shiny penny caught her eye. She fetched it out, lest the creepy magician try to retrieve it himself.

Mr Morris was no more impressed. “Oh Jesus Christ, I can’t put this shit on stage. We’re up against American Idol on the idiot box, with troops of Chinese kids that can bend themselves backwards and fart fireworks. Don’t give me tired old coin tricks. You just dropped it there when she sat down.”

Unperturbed, the magician continued, “My apologies, sir, it’s always a little hard to judge the length of the warmup. If you book us, we can skip these niceties on the night.”

“Penny,” he rubbed his chin and stood back with a quizzical look. “Pray tell, are you wearing any under garments beneath that dress?”

Penny gasped, lost for words before recovering herself and attempting to show some decorum.

“Why I most certainly am. What a question for a gentleman to ask a young lady!”

“Yes, of course you are. Excellent. So there’s no way I could have gained easy access to your… hmm… shall we say… lady parts?”

“Oh my goodness! What on earth are you…” Penny made to stand from her seat with indignation, only to find young Jacob and another boy of equal stature standing either side of her. They grabbed an arm each and held her down on the seat. Their faces grinned with mischief. Had their cheeks been smudged with coal dust, it would not have looked out of place.

Two preteen girls appeared. The source of the giggles earlier. They ran from either side of the stage, little white pinafore dresses down to their knees and yellow ribbons holding pigtails in their hair. Penny squirmed at being held captive, as the girls grabbed her legs, clinging onto her calves as if they were her own children begging for some attention.

“Ah, my ever dutiful offspring. Penny, the lads holding your arms are Jacob and his brother Ben.

“Pleased to meet you ma’am.” Ben offered, the more confident of the boys. Jacob concentrated on his job of keeping the young woman seated.

“And grasping those lovely legs of yours, is Isabel and Alice. Try not to wriggle so much, the girls have sharp nails.”

Isabel and Alice, kneeling either side of the chair, looked up at their captor. Rosey cheeked faces, bordered with blonde hair like her own, beamed with excitement. Penny, even in her panic, thought they couldn’t have been anymore than ten or eleven. Darlings in any other circumstance.

Mr Morris leaned forward in his seat. For the first time in many a year, he had no idea where an act was going.

“Girls, if you would…”the Magician commanded his daughters, and they lifted poor Penny’s feet up onto the chair. Their father leaned forward, and with gentle hands, pushed the spotted dress up her legs, over her knees and down to her waist. The lady gasped again, red faced, and struggled in the grip of all the little hands.

“It’s all right dear, we’re coming to the big reveal!” the performing patriarch tried to comfort her.

Mr Morris, from the front row, just twelve feet away, had an eyeful of his secretary’s exposed thighs separated by a strip of the most innocent white cotton panties. The two younger girls moved their hands up to her knees and fought her to keep them pushed apart.

The two lads standing above tried hard to get a view of the action.

“Alice, please relieve our young guest of her undergarments.”

Alice didn’t need to be told twice, hooking her fingers under the top of Penny’s underpants and ripping them clean off her in one swift motion. The sound of tearing cotton and shameful tears combined to echo around the grand old theatre.

Mr Morris leaned further forward in his seat. Even if this strange act didn’t make the billing, he was enjoying the view.

Penny shook her head from side to side, and struggled on the seat, her legs held firmly akimbo.

“If you’ll care to look closely.” the Magician announced to the whole theatre, as if it were full. “Between the lips this young lass doesn’t kiss with, you’ll see a return on the investment of your time. ”

Sure enough, from between the thin pink labia that nestled in Penny’s dark pubic hair, a gleaming penny peeked.

This gave Mr Morris some mild amusement, but didn’t really promise a life of fame and fortune.

“Ok, so you proffered a penny from Penny’s pussy!” He conceded. “That’s good, I’ll grant you. But surely you have other tricks. There are plenty of peep shows, and many a magic show. What else can your family do for my discerning punters?”

“But of course. Let’s dispense with the silly tricks then. Oh, Penny love, I’m afraid I also concealed a coin right up your back passage. Isabel, be a dear and fetch it out for her.”

As the kids released their grip on the hapless assistant, the cherubic girl named Isabel matter-of-factly poked her longest finger up Penny’s ass and dug out yet another coin.

Penny shrieked and exited stage left in a stumbling run.

Isabel, meanwhile, was crossing her legs and looking uncomfortable. “It has to be soon Daddy, I can’t hold it much longer.”

“Right, boys, go give your mother her five minute call while your sisters entertain Mr Morris here.”

Jacob and Ben shuffled off backstage. Jacob even had the presence of mind to drag the chair with him.

Mr Magic, as the talent agent now dubbed him, stood between his young daughters. He clicked his fingers, and both girls reached down to the hem of their pinafore dresses and lifted them clean over their heads, tossing the garments behind them. Underneath they were as naked as the day they were born.

“Behold… the best pets if you have allergies, Sir. Hairless pussies!”

Morris raised an eyebrow, both at the lame joke and the sight before him. The kids stood unashamed, breastless chests out, hands on skinny hips, making no attempt to cover the smooth, pubescent, clefts between their legs. But Isabel started hopping from one foot to the other.

“I’ll start on the bottom!” Alice declared and lay on the floor, arms and legs pointing upwards. Her sister turned around and climbed on top, her hands on Alice’s upturned feet, her own feet held by Alice’s hands that shook as she focussed on keeping her sister balanced up there.

“Begin!” their father commanded.

And the girls began tumbling. Together they made a rolling wheel, flexible curved backs and bottoms each rolling along the floor with every revolution. Master’s of their craft, they steered their human wheel around the perimeter of the stage, coming dangerously close to the edge.

It impressed Mr Morris. He knew plenty of folks that would pay good money to see this.

“I call this my Fountain of Youth,” the proud Father was now in full vaudeville voice.

And then Isabel began to piss. Followed by Alice. As they rolled across the stage, warm piss cascaded from revolving vulvas, splashing over each other’s faces. They picked up speed too, and Mr Morris had to admit that it all looked rather artful. Youth in movement. Angelic faces, smooth young limbs locked together. Encircled even, like a snake eating its tail. And two streams of piss flying through the whole spectacle, as if the force of the liquid itself was turning this artistic water wheel.

Bladders emptied and the two girls slowed to a halt, disengaged, and performed a nude, dripping curtsy.

Mr Morris stood and clapped. “Bravo!” he shouted “Bravo!”

Scooping up their dresses, Isabel and Alice left to get cleaned up.

Jacob and Ben then reappeared, escorting a rather plump, pudding of a woman between them. She wore nothing more than a bedsheet, but looked down at Mr Morris as if she owned the stage, the theatre, and the whole town it was in. Her eyes gleamed with theatric fervor. Full cheeks bloomed and a wide smile glistened. This was her moment!

Standing before her audience, she took a bow, and then with pudgy fingers pulled the bed sheet away, revealing rolls of glorious fat. Pendulous bosoms hung down over her bulging belly. Deep red nipples the size of grapes protruded proudly.

“May I present my good lady wife, Esmeralda!” Mr Magic intoned. “And you’ve met my two young boys already. Jacob and Ben. I love them both and would never speak an ill word of them, but for our next act it gives me great pleasure to introduce them to you as tonight’s… Mother Fuckers!”

“Lads, you may fuck your mother.”

The boys shrugged out of their gray pants and shirts. Penises already rising to attention,

There then ensued a quiet debate as to how this next “piece of art“ would be performed. Mr Magic trotted down the stairs and whispered.

“I fear it gets a little trickier each time. I feed my lovely wife so well you see. The lads have to decide a strategy to gain access. At least if they want to do her at the same time, which I think makes for a good act. A double feature, if you will. I hoped their manhoods would have grown larger as they approached their mid-teens. But alas, that’s one characteristic of their old man that seems to have missed a generation.”

Esmeralda lay prone on the stage, a beached whale. Jacob and Ben completed their negotiations over who would take Mom up the ass and who would try to fill her cavernous pussy. With some manoeuvring, both sons were now humping away between their mother’s trembling thighs. One from above, one from below — the one below in danger of being crushed. Mr Morris now enjoyed a view of two sets of young men’s buttocks and jostling testicles as they humped. He pondered which he found most disturbing — his arousal induced by the underage sisters earlier, or this new stirring in his loins, bought on by watching the brothers bouncing ball bags. Being somewhat of a homophobe, he decided it was the brothers making his blood race that bothered him more.

Just then, an exit door to the side of the stage slammed, and a voice rang out.

“Stop right there, you heathens! I’ve finally caught you in the act!”

In the dim light of the green exit sign, a young policeman stood. He held a pistol in two trembling hands, pointing it at Mr Magic. Although his ability to hit even a barn door with it would have been up for debate.

Mr Magic seemed unperturbed.

“Ah, let me introduce you to my nemesis. This rude intermission is bought to you by the esteemed Officer Campbell.”

“I’ve followed you across three state lines you sick fuck. And now I’m placing you under arrest for…. for…”. Officer Campbell hadn’t thought about just what he was charging his quarry with, but it didn’t matter. He had him in his sights at last.

While he trembled and searched for words, Campbell did not notice the tiny shadow moving behind him. Alice emerged unseen, now clean of piss and back in her cute little pinafore, ribbons in her hair. Just when Campbell had finally decided on some ancient charge of public debauchery and was about to announce the revelation, Alice buried a six-inch blade in his lower spinal column. And twisted it viciously.

Mr Morris watched all this, wondering just how much of it was part of the show. He’d already decided to book this crazy family. It would be a very fruitful tour up the East Coast, he’d decided. And he hoped to see a few matinees himself.

“I got him Daddy!” Alice squealed in delight. “Gave him a good stabbing, just like you showed me. The knife went in easier than Ben’s cock into Mama!”

The two brothers, and their mother, hadn’t even reacted to the commotion. Both young lads were thrusting away, but showing signs of fatigue. Their mother showed none.

“Come on you soft cocks! Give Mama what she needs. I’ve had pairs of britches that have gotten further up my crack than you two.”

“I can’t….get… any.. friction” Jacob panted. “You’re just too wet Mom. It’s like fucking a rice pudding.”

“Alice, leave the dying policeman and come and help your brother. Actually no, don’t. Try to stop Mr Campbell bleeding. I’d like him alive for our grand finale,” her father decided. “Isabel… Isabel! Where are you?”

“Coming Dad!” the other girl shouted from backstage. “It took ages to get Alice’s piddle outta my hair”

“Well hurry. Your brother’s need you. Come and give their balls a squeeze. You know they like that. We need them hardened up inside your Mom or we’ll never get done here.”

“Yes, Dad”. The second sister appeared, clean and tidy, and trotted over to the threesome on stage. She found a place to kneel amidst the jiggling fat and thrusting teen hips, reached under the two brothers backsides and began kneading their scrotums as they thrusted.

“Ah yeah, that’s good. Thanks sis” Ben quickened the pace of his thrusting hips.

“That’s my boy!” Mom yelped.

Mr Morris watched on in wonder.

Alice wiped the bloody knife on the policeman’s shirt. He’d sunk to his knees, burbling nonsense words between cries of intense pain and anguish.

“Excuse me for a minute kind sir”, Mr Magic left the talent agent and made his way over to the crippled cop. He grabbed Campbell under each arm and dragged him past the front row of seats and up the stage stairs.

“Alice, be a doll and go fetch Daddy’s hatchet”.

She pattered away to rummage through the family tool kit.

“Come now boys. And I mean that literally, I need help with Mr Nosey Campbell here. Come on your mother’s face just the way she likes it and then give me a hand.”

“We’re trying!” Ben grunted.

“I got this,” little Isabel said, and pushed a forefinger into each of her brothers’ asses. This prompted groans of pleasure and two teen penises withdrew from their respective maternal cavities so the lads could administer their own swift finishing strokes. Isabel giggled and wriggled her fingers one last time. Gushes of white cum shot out and splattered Mom’s grinning face. Hands pumped until only intermittent dribbles remained.

Wiping themselves off, the siblings set to work helping Dad strip the paraplegic policeman of his uniform. Mom shuffled backwards to give them room, furiously fisting herself into a delayed orgasm. “You little bastards, always leave me high and dry” she moaned.

“Dry? surely you jest my love? There’s as much pussy juice as cop blood on this stage now.” Her husband argued.

Campbell’s face froze in a painful grimace as waves of agony washed over him. His legs appeared limp and lifeless, and the colour was draining from his skin. A slick trail of bright red blood led away down the stairs and along the green carpet to the door where Alice had stabbed him.

Alice returned with a small but serviceable hatchet.

“Did I miss anything?” she asked.

“Only our brothers unloading into Mom’s face again. Thanks to my magic touch.” Isabel answered, wriggling her fingers in her sister’s face.

“At this point, good Sir,” Mr Magic addressed his audience of one, “We would normally select the loudest heckler, or some such unsavory chap from the audience. But today, our own tormentor Mr Campbell will suffice. He’s been a thorn in our side for six months now.”

“Can I have his balls, Dad?” Alice asked. “Isabel got the last guy’s.”

“Okay, if it’s your turn little one” he patted his daughter on the head. “Tell you what, I think you’re old enough now to take them yourself too. Would you like that?”

“Oh yes, please!” and with that she leaned down and grabbed the policeman’s balls, pulling them as far away from his crotch as his scrotum would allow. She turned the hatchet upside down and ran the stretched skin along the length of the sharp blade. Another howl of pain and horror erupted from Mr Campbell’s foaming mouth. The two brothers held his thrashing torso down, and Isabel looked on with mild curiosity. She tried to think where she’d left her own spoils from last time.

“His cock’s way bigger than yours, boys” Alice remarked as she pulled the bleeding parcel of flesh away, leaving what looked to be the neck of a decapitated chicken under the man’s penis. “One day I will have a nice long cock like that inside me.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be darling,” her mother observed from further back. “Especially when they go off before you’re done. Prepare yourself for many a night strumming your own tune on that cute little flange of yours.”

Alice shrugged and licked up the blood trickling down her arm from the severed testicles. “Hmm, it tastes like copper”. She paused for a moment, thinking, then laughed. “Hey Daddy, I just made a joke!”

“Right, enough dilly dally.” Mr Magic kicked the policeman’s legs apart and took the hatchet from Alice. “How about we cut Constable Campbell here a new cunt of his own!”

He did an about turn to face the theatre and swung the hatchet in a graceful ark between his own legs, thwacking the blade between Mr Campbell’s. Slicing easily through flesh and lodging itself in pelvic bone, it elicited a scream of agony that could be heard across town.

“Nothing like burying the hatchet is there my old foe?” he laughed, pleased with his second brilliant line of the day.

The axe swung, and each impact cleaved a massive gash into the policeman’s body, splitting him apart from crotch to collar. The policeman died somewhere between the second and third strike. Blood splattered the stage and the siblings. It made a garish pattern across the girls’ white pinafores.

“More bloody washing!” their mother complained.

Mr Morris held his clipboard above his head, sheltering from the shower of blood, bone, and entrails.

“I’ve seen enough!” he yelled from under cover. “You’re hired! What do you call yourselves, anyway?”

“The Aristocrats!” the family shouted in unison, taking a bow.

Short story writer. Fantasy, sci-fi, transgressive. I lack a filter but try to make stuff fun.

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