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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Claire, Eva loved her parents so much…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Louder!” urged Claire.

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

“LOUDER, CUNT!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Has she got anyone with her?”

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

Love is patient, love is kind.

It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

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

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

It always protects, always trusts,

always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails.

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

“Harriet!” exclaimed Alison.

“What the fuck?” said Claire.

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

It took a split second for Alison to realise that she recognised that cock from somewhere: it was jet-black, stiff as a rod, some eight inches tall – and beautiful, oh so beautiful – more beautiful than any other cock she had ever seen. “No fucking way,” she thought. “It can’t be!”

But it was. As she turned the corner, her eyes travelled upwards from the cock, up the bare black chest, to that familiar twinkling face.

“Suck my cock,” said Rob, smiling at Alison. “Coffee?”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!!!” Alison screamed.

“YOU?!” screamed Claire.

“ROB – WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” Alison shouted. Furious and humiliated, questions flooded her brain. What was he doing here? Hadn’t he left the country? Or had everyone lied to her about it? Had Eva lied to her, whilst Rob was all along holed up in her flat? And what about Harriet? Had she known about this all along? Why had Eva not replied to any of her messages – but clearly invited Harriet to see her? And what did this have to do with the old man shot in front of their eyes in the hospice? “WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?!!!” she screamed.

Underneath her rage, however, a small part of Alison – so small she was barely aware of it – was relieved. She had gone through a lot of trauma since that dreadful night when Rob had re-appeared in her room – and his declaration of love now seemed, frankly, a minor part of it. She wasn’t as angry at him, or as hurt: somehow, nothing seemed quite so black-and-white any more. Her cherished identity as a fucker, of which her parents were so proud, and the Enlightenment ideals which she had always so valued, now seemed more precarious than she would ever have believed possible. The way Rob had treated her that night three weeks ago was perhaps not so utterly despicable; the man was misguided, to be sure – but she might just be able to forgive him for it… now that he was here. A small part of her smiled inwardly at the thought.

First, though, explanations were needed – and Rob and Eva seemed to realise that they had to provide them. Eva released her big brother’s cock-head from her mouth with a loud “pop”, leaving it bobbing, rigid and vertical. “I’m sorry, Alison, for not telling you sooner,” she said, standing up to give Alison a tender wet precum-scented kiss on the lips. “As soon as he heard about Daddy being shot, Rob came back, out of concern for me. I didn’t tell you, not because I didn’t trust you, but because I was worried that if your parents found out, they might want to press charges against him. That’s why Harriet knew and not you, you see…” She squeezed Alison’s breasts affectionately.

Harriet nodded in confirmation, lighting a cigarette as she sat down on the sofa at the other end of the room. Bradley followed and sat down next to her, admiring her bare tits as they heaved up and down. Eva knelt down again to gently stroke her brother’s cock, massaging pre-cum and saliva into the pulsating purple-brown dickhead. Alison and Claire stayed standing in the doorway: Claire had her hands on her hips, her head shaking with exasperation and bewilderment, her mouth opening and shutting as she searched for words to express her indignation. “Okay, so what the fuck was your dad doing here anyway?” she demanded impatiently. “And, Rob, aren’t you worried the same might happen to you if the authorities find out you’re here?” Rob’s cock twitched slightly under his sister’s caresses.

“No,” said Rob, “unless Alison tells her parents and they press charges. I’m an Undesirable, but not an illegal per se, because I’m sterilised and underage. And, with Professor Dick’s help, I have secured permission to take my father’s body – the funeral is tomorrow – back home to my mother. I’m hoping, Alison, that...