Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Kate Versus The Zombies, Part Four: Alderney Island by Chris Hailey, Copyright 2017 Story codes: Mg12g11, Mf15ggg, first, oral, impregnation, SciFi, lolita, harem Summary: Meet eleven-year-old Kate, a skilled zombie killer and--this will surprise you to learn--a nymphomaniac. Self-proclaimed 'dirtiest girl you've ever met.' In this, the fourth and final part, Kate's big plan comes to fruition. And there's lots and lots of sex, too. This story was originally published at Loliwood Studios and has been fairly extensively edited for this re-publication, this tale is only an excerpt from a much larger story that has never been written. ============== I know you all think that having a harem of a couple dozen pretty ladies at your disposal must be awfully nice. But let me assure you, it ain't as good as it seems. There's the noise. Imagine how much noise twenty women can make under the same roof. Especially if there's a few babies to coo over. And then there's the fact that I'm not sixteen anymore, and little johnnie needs his down time in order to perform at what constitutes peak performance for a middle-aged man such as myself. I'm also not Henry VIII. I can't just point at whatever nubile youngster catches my fancy and demand she join me in the king's chambers for a night of nuptial bliss, especially not with the likes of Sarah around, who'd taken to her motherly ways toward the younger of our new arrivals just as if they were girls from her boarding school. Which, in fact, a couple of them were. Besides which, I might be a bit of a cad, and a horny one at that, but these girls have been through hell and I sure as fuck wasn't going to contribute more of the same to them. They've had enough of a guy forcing himself on them to last a thousand lifetimes. That ain't me. So, yeah, anyway, I'm encamped in an enclosed space with two dozen hot, horny women, half of them teenagers or younger, most of them driven both biologically and morally to become impregnated with my children. That is, if I haven't knocked them up already. This sucks, man. Totally. About our new arrivals. The raid on the Hammersmith hotel went off without a hitch. Kate had planned it carefully, and we'd staged a couple of rehearsals before we went into town, so we were well-prepared. There wasn't much chance that our arrival was going to be a surprise. We had already clearly telegraphed our intentions, and then there's the fact that driving down the avenue in a few armored vehicles, in a city that was eerily quiet but for the occasional moan of a dearly-departed-but-still-animated corpse, wasn't likely to go unnoticed. The fact that the gunners refused my orders to hold their fire when a lurcher happened by on his stroll down the promenade... That didn't help much with the element of surprise, either. So with shots ringing out through the cavernous city streets, and heavy armored vehicles slugging away at a slow pace and a high volume, nobody in the hotel was the least bit surprised when our caravan halted out front. It didn't take more than three seconds to blow a hole in the side entrance. We probably could have gone in the front door if we'd wanted to, without regard for the three foot wide wall of sandbags, given the firepower that Kate had us bring along on this sortee. I suppose it isn't that surprising that our damned Hugh Hefner wannabe was long gone. It seems he wisely preferred flight to confrontation. He'd managed to convince a few of his most loyal subjects to flee the scene with him, but he couldn't take all the girls. Remember what Kate says about traveling light; trying to corral a bunch of unwilling subjects through the streets of zombieville was not a workable plan. So, with him gone, that meant the entire operation was executed successfully without a single shot being fired, except for the RPGs to blow the door open, and of course a few dozen rounds along the way to remove some zombie heads. The women inside, nonetheless, understandably, were terrified. They had no idea who we were, nor what were our intentions. But they seemed relieved that their saviors turned out to be in fact a band of females, with one lone and fairly unintimidating male along apparently mostly for decoration. Once we'd heard the story about how the guy had fled, and Commander Kate had declared the scene secure, I went back down to the Jackal to leave the ladies by themselves to gather up the newest members of our tribe. There were around fifteen of them, counting a couple of babies and even a toddler, and not counting a few that were still gestating. And now things were starting to feel a little crowded inside our curtain wall. But, if you remember, Kate had a plan. And that's where this part of the tale commences. Kate was always extra-excited the day before an operation. As usual, we'd had our rehearsals for the newest mission, which commenced tomorrow in the AM, and some hands-on "target-softening" for the last few weeks, so we were well-prepared before we set sail, and she wasn't nervous. Just excited. And this was a situation that I liked to use to my advantage. An excited Kate is a fine thing indeed, I imagine you can appreciate. But first, let me tell you about a special girl who joined us from Hugh Hefner's harem. And don't worry, Kate figures in this encounter as well, of course. The pond in our compound, out behind the castle, was a common swimming hole for the girls, and indeed for me as well. All my girls all preferred to swim <i>au naturel</i>, which is well and good so long as Sarah's not around to scold me for my lingering eye as I enjoyed their naked frollicks. And since Sarah paid close attention, I usually felt inclined at least to wear my trunks when I was joining them. Much, I think, to their disappointment. But in this case, our new arrivals had no suits to wear even if they'd wanted to, and it seemed a bit rakish to take advantage of this, so I tended to stay away as best I could during their afternoon swims. This particular afternoon, the day before Kate's big operation was to begin, turned out to be a fine clear warm one, the sort of day one must celebrate in southern England for their rarity and utter beauty. So the girls were swimming, and I was decently further out back, in the gardens, playing catch with the dogs. I wasn't paying much attention to my surroundings, just tossing a stick to the dogs and staring off into the beautiful blue of the afternoon sky, when one of the new girls, a youngster of twelve, came over, a towel wrapped rather loosely around her otherwise nude body. Nudity had been a common occurrence in the lives of these girls for the last couple years. Hugh didn't like his ladies to be clothed. So this one, Margaret, was hardly shy in the least bit about her nakedness. Without saying much to each other beyond the usual pleasantries, together we tossed a couple sticks for the dogs, who ran after them pell-mell, leaping excitedly over one another. The dog's antics gave Maggie a fit of giggles. Eventually the dogs tired, and we sat down together in the grass with happy mutts sitting attentive nearby, still staring at.the sticks even though their tongues hung from their mouths as they panted. Maggie volunteered some of her story as we sat there together in the grass. I tried not to quiz the girls about their life in that hotel, but some of them wanted a shoulder to lean on, or a confessional, or a psychiatrist's couch. And, sure, they could get that from Elizabeth or Sarah, but I think for some of them, that was a bit too much like talking to their mom or their school marm. A kind man with a nonjudgmental ear was better suited to their needs. And so it was, it seems, with Maggie. Maggie first arrived at the hotel back in Hammersmith with her mother when she was ten years old. First impressions were paradise; safe from the zombie horde, plenty of food and water, a comfortable bed. Her mom became one of Hugh's primary lovers, and it turns out was one of his loyal subjects who fled with him, six months pregnant with Maggie's half-sibling, when we arrived. Things turned decidedly sour for Maggie one night when the man paid her a visit in her room. He tied her up that night. She didn't give me details, and I didn't ask, but she did say that she still has nightmares about it. When she told her mom, she was unhelpful. "Just do what he wants," was what she told her daughter. Full-on enabler mode, I suppose. "You'll get used to it soon enough." And she did, in a way. But she never did understand why he always tied her up when he came to her, even though she never resisted him. "Some guys are like that, I guess," was all I could say in response. "You're not like that," she answered. "Jennie says you're very gentle." I was glad to hear that my niece harbored no resentment towards me. "And Emma says..." She paused. "She says she really likes it." I didn't know what to say in response to that, so I just sat there, silent. She eventually added, quietly, "I'd like to be with a man who's gentle." More silence from me in response, although it was accompanied by an excited stirring in my loins. "I mean," she continued, "I wouldn't say I <i>liked</i> it before, but there were some things about it... some things I guess I miss now." "Yeah?" "Yeah." I looked at her, and immediately my eyes focused on the fact that the towel she had wrapped around her had sagged a bit, the top of her breasts revealed. She noticed my stare, and smiled in response. "I'll never force myself on you, Maggie," I said, managing to look up at her face. Jesus the girl was pretty, a soft-haired blonde with light brown eyes that were shining magical pools of mystery. "I know." "Good." There was an awkward pause. "But if you want..." She nodded. "I think it would be nice." "Whenever you want. Whenever you're ready." "I'm ready now," she said. We managed to avoid Sarah's eagle eyes on the way up the stairs to my bedroom. But we didnt avoid Kate's. She saw. I could tell from the smile on her face that she knew exactly what we were doing. I hardly had time to get the bedroom door closed before the girl had dropped the towel. Like I said, modesty wasn't a habit for her anymore. Good god what a sight it was, to see the beautiful twelve-year-old standing​ there in front of me, buck naked. She had a decent amount of development appearing on her chest, sweet little plump girltits with puffballs nipples standing out above, and a little crop of curls above her pussy. Long skinny pale legs, a flat stomach, in a word, perfection. I myself undressed quickly, of course, and within a minute we were together on the bed in a tight embrace, lips locked, the youngster underneath my large frame with her arms and legs wrapped around me. The girl was clearly anxious to get started; her hips were grinding, just as if her pussy was desperately searching for my cock. And Cock was responding enthusiastically. But I had other things in mind, and luckily the mind was still nominally in charge. I knew the girl deserved something more than just a quick fuck, even if that's all Cock was interested in giving. Besides, I'll admit, I wanted to spend some quality time with my face nestled between her legs. So I moved down, pausing to kiss delightful preteen nipples along the way. I was pretty sure the girl had never had her little pussy kissed, and her response indicated that this was most likely true. From the moment my tongue first licked at her clitty, she had her back arched and her hips thrust forward, and she was grinding into my face and making the sweetest little purrs and coos. Her little blond-curled puss smelled delightful, like a warm summer day after a cleansing rain, and she tasted even better--the sea mixed with sweet rose water. I lapped hungrily, drinking in the liquor that flowed from her, my tongue twirling over her clitoris, then plunging into the depths of her vagina. Dear Maggie quaked and shook, shimmied and moaned, and came. When I finally lifted my head up to catch a breath of air, it wasn't to mount her; in fact I did not intend to have sex with her at all that afternoon. I only wanted her to enjoy the moment; enjoy the wonderful feelings that her miraculous body could produce. But the girl obviously had other things in mind. She had her legs spread wide, her ass slightly off the bed, showing off her sloppy pink slit, gaping invitingly open. Her face was red and she was looking up at me with imploring eyes. "Please fuck me, John," she whispered. Well, I'm not the sort of guy that ignores a girl's needs. And my cock was overcome with desire to be inside her. So, yeah, the twelve-year-old got cock that afternoon. She was hot. Oh lord she was hot. And so wet and open that I slid right in, all the way to the hilt, my balls up against her ass. As I entered her, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes and opened her mouth. It was one of the sexist things I'd ever seen. I was gentle, I moved slow, I took my time. She moaned throughout, not much more than a little breathless coo. I asked her if it was okay if I came inside her, and she simply nodded, at a loss for words. And so, still at the same slow and steady pace, I brought myself to to a heart-pounding ball-clenching orgasm, and filled her little pussy with cum. "Did you like that?" I asked her, after we'd lain together, kissing and holding, for a few minutes afterwards. "Oh, yes," she said with a dreamy smile. "It was just like what Jennie said." "Sweet." I've got to remember to give my dear niece something special. "Um hum..." And she kissed me again. Now you might recall that I began this section by mentioning the excitement that Kate always feels on the day before a mission. And no, I haven't forgotten her, in my excitement to tell you about Maggie and my first time. For you see, at some point while Maggie and I lay together kissing, Kate came into the room. "Hi Kate," Maggie said in that same dreamy voice she'd had since we'd finished our compilation. She wasn't the least bit fazed by the fact that a girl had just walked in on us, both of us buck naked and lying in bed, <i>in flagrante delicto</i>. "Hi Maggie!" Kate cheerfully replied. Anybody who's followed this story knows that Kate always was a dirty girl, from the first day I met her. But given the way she felt about other women back then, when we first met, it was interesting to find that what she really seemed to enjoy the most of all, when it came to sex, was a good old fashioned <i>ménage à trois</i>. Two girls, and one me. Maybe it's because she'd learned long ago that her position in this tribe was secure, and that she was unquestionably first among equals in my mind, which meant she had no reason to be at all concerned about any other women in my life. I'd drop them all in a heartbeat to be with Kate, and she knew it. So, Kate climbed onto the bed with us. "Look at how little he is!" she exclaimed with a twinkling-eyed smile as she settled in next to Margaret. "You must have made him real happy, Maggie!" Maggie beamed. "He came lots!" Kate grinned back. "He always does! It's because he has big balls!" Maggie giggled, and Kate reached down and petted my sack. "He likes to have them kissed, don't you, John?" Kate asked me. I nodded, but she didn't see. She was already scooting down. She put her lips against my scrotum and gave it a kiss. "I like to kiss them, too," she said, her breath warming my testicles. She kissed my sack again. "How about you, Maggie? Do you like to kiss balls?" "I never have," she answered. "No? Com'on then!" Maggie giggled some more, then scooted down herself. I opened my legs wider as she joined Kate, face-to-face. "This one's mine," Kate said, giving my right ball a kiss, "and that one's yours." She nodded in the direction of my left ball. "Give him a kiss." Maggie leaned in and gave my left ball a little peck. "I like it," she said with another giggle. "It's a nice ball." "It is!" Kate said. "His balls are so big, aren't they? Let's kiss them both at the same time, he'll love that!" Their cheeks and noses were pressed up against each other, their mouths only an inch apart, and they​ both kissed my balls. They giggled afterwards, pulling away and facing each other, and then they kissed, a little lip-touching peck followed by more giggles. Kate turned back to my sack, opened her mouth wide, and took "her" ball into her mouth, holding it securely but not painfully between her teeth. Her eyes twinkled as she looked at Maggie. Maggie laughed merrily. "My turn!" And she took her ball between her teeth. Balls thoroughly enjoyed, and tingling happily now, Kate began licking my shaft, and Maggie joined in. And now two little pink tongues tickled along my shaft, pausing occasionally​ to lick each other, or to kiss, with my head in between both of their lips. Eventually, Kate pulled away. "Look at how hard he's gotten!" "I know!" Maggie answered with a big smile. "I bet I know what he wants right now." "What?" "Two pussies!" "Really?!?" "Yeah! Come on!" So Kate dragged Maggie to the edge of the bed. Once the new girl was lying on her back with her legs off the bed, Kate straddled her waist and lay down on top of her, belly-to-belly, breast-to-breast. I hopped off the bed and quickly took my place. Like an automaton operating on instinct alone, I grabbed Kate's hips and held her in place as my cock anxiously positioned himself at her entrance. Just as anxiously, she immediately thrust her hips back and into me, and I slid into paradise in the form of a hot, wet, eleven-year-old love hole. A few thrusts, ten or fifteen, and my cock was already slick with Kate's girlcum. I pulled out of her and slid right into Maggie. The twelve-year-old let out a sweet little moan, that little birdie coo of hers, as I entered her. "See?" Kate said. "I told you he would want both of our pussies at the same time!" As she spoke, I pulled​ out of Maggie and slid back into her. Kate was smaller than Maggie, and, not having just been used a few minutes earlier, was considerably tighter, too. But both have their advantages; I challenge any man to declare whether a tight pussy is better than an open one. Regardless of your or my opinion on the matter, my poor peter couldn't possibly decide which he liked better, so he enjoyed them both, thoroughly. Never has there been a happier cock! Nor, I hope, two happier pussies! Now, a man in my enviable position must eventually decide which of these two fine specimens of budding womanhood will get my second load of the afternoon. Kate, who has received so many from me these last months, or Maggie, my new little love, who already has a fresh batch of my excited enthusiastic swimmers in her preteen womb? Or why not both? I was deep inside Kate when I felt my orgasm begin to boil, and I quickly pulled out, slid into Maggie, and fired. I pumped a couple shots into her, then pulled out mid-ejaculation, slid quickly back into Kate's now-gaping maw, and finished. The girls rolled around together in fits of giggles, after. And thence, the next evening, Three amphibious assault vehicles halted their approach some forty feet from the high tide shore. The boats were piloted by Kate's three most trusted captains: twelve-year-old​ Heather, who was second only to Kate in the brains department; Kate's theory was that good instincts are worth more than all the brawn in the world. And Sindhu, a petite fifteen-year-old, who, it turns out, despite her diminutive size, was as brave and as scrappy as anyone on the team. And then the third captain was me. I imagine Kate gave me the position out of pity. Oh, come on, I'm kidding. I was the commander's most trusted advisor. At least that's what I told myself. At nightfall, we fired a few dozen flares. I literally started singing the Star Spangled Banner, "Bombs bursting in aaaaiiiir!" In the red light I could see a whole lot of nasty looks from the damned Limies I was forced to hang with these days. So I broke out into Rule Britannia afterwards, to make them happy. Didn't seem to help. Almost immediately after the flares and the singing, we started hearing the grunts and groans of the undead, and Kate held her hand into the air, waiting, waiting... And then, "Now!" The captains illuminated giant floodlights, turning the beach a brilliant white and leaving the lurches stunned in stupid amazement. There must have been two or three hundred of them. It was like a frat party, without the keg. And, arguably, with a slightly higher combined IQ. I'm teasing, frat boys, I love ya! The gunners opened fire and Jesus Christ, it was a slaughter. You've never seen anything like it. Picture a pan full of popping popcorn that a kid forgot to put the lid on. Picture a big pack of firecrackers all lit at once. Picture... well, picture three hundred heads blown off in the space of thirty seconds. With the awesome firepower these duck boats carried, the holy hell meted out by a bunch of thirteen-year-old living angels of God's mercy was over almost before it started. When that unpleasant little business was finished, we pulled the boats back out a couple hundred feet and dropped anchor to wait for dawn. Once the sun rose, we rode the surf in, the gunners killing the few stragglers that either showed up too late for last night's party, or managed to somehow survive slaughter. Once Kate was sufficiently satisfied that all the zombies' lurching days were over, we landed, and unloaded. In less than ten minutes, the girls had established a beachhead, with four gun nests guarding the perimeter. It was all very well-rehearsed Kate had insisted that we practice this landing for weeks, and as a result, it went off like clockwork. It helped, too, that there weren't any lurchers around. At least none that were moving. While the girls assigned to the gun nests manned--well, <i>wo</i>manned--the big guns, the rest of us dragged the dead lurchers and spare body parts into a pile, doused it with gasoline, said a little something by way of a funeral prayer, and lit them on fire. Then we went back to the boats and got the dogs. The dogs were one of Kate's ideas. It was a little difficult to find them; they're weren't many dogs left any more. The lurchers' craving for fresh meat, and their brainless inability to be scared of anything, including the angry gnashing teeth of a feral dog, meant that the poor beasts were a favorite item on the undead's menu. But we'd managed to find a few of them, take them in under our wing and win their confidence, and from there it was easy to tame them and train them to sniff out the undead. For one thing, lurchers smelled really bad. Really really bad. The dogs could smell them from five miles away. Once we had the dogs in place, we packed up camp and set off for the island's castle. Or maybe "fort" is a better term. So this was Commander Kate's plan. A massive operation to take over one of the Channel Islands, clear it entirely of lurchers, and make it our new home. She chose one of the smaller of the islands, for the obvious reason that it'd be easier to disinfect, although the long-term plan was to find as many survivors as we could, in both England and the mainland, and eventually colonize the other islands as well. This was not a final stand against the horrors of the fallen world; it was, rather, mankind's new beginning. Or I suppose I should say, womankind's. So when we set off into the woods that afternoon, it was with a sense of purpose. Even a religious zealotry, in a way. God, the sadistic fucker, had clearly abandoned the world to rot and ruin, but we were about to take it back. It was a bit hard not to see Kate in the character of Eve, undaunted by the prospect of the evil of the world, and willing to do what it takes to express her own individuality in the face of the uncaring Gods, to strike out, to lash out, and to create an Eden of her own. And somehow the rest of us were lucky enough to have been carried along on this mission with her. Mostly, though, she didn't see it in such grandiose​ and millennialist terms. For her, it was a much more practical thing. Now that we had a whole gaggle of babies, and a few yet on the way, Kate wanted somewhere for them to roam free. She was an independent spirit herself, and when one could occasionally break down the thick exterior toughness that she'd constructed around herself these last few years, you'd find that it actually broke her heart to see the kids confined within the small courtyard of our castle on the mainland. On our island, she liked to say as we were preparing for the assault, we'd have free range cows, free range chickens, and free range babies. So here we were, marching through the woods from our beachhead, lurcher-tracking dogs in front, gun totting girls behind. We were the "forward operation"; once we'd secured the island from the lurchers, we would go back to the mainland and begin the process of transplanting our entire tribe and all of our necessary possessions to our new home. To Alderney Island. Interestingly, we did not encounter a single lurcher during the entire march. This, along with the fact that our little bonfire at the beachhead didn't attract any of them, led us to speculate that maybe we'd already cleared them all out. After all, some girls reasoned, teams had been circling the island for a couple of weeks in patrol boats, shooting flares and killing anything that moved, and there were only a couple thousand people on the island when the troubles hit. Probably a good estimate is that half of them were dead by the time we arrived. Maybe we'd already killed the other half, a thousand dead lurchers. Man, what a fucking blood bath. We got to the castle and set up camp inside the walls. The living quarters were once fully modernized, but they were in rough shape now after a couple years of being abandoned to the zombie apocalypse. That was one of the tasks we had before us, in addition to ridding the island of lurchers--cleaning up the housing stock. It was a long hot day of humping back and forth to the beachhead to bring up supplies, but eventually we had a nice comfy little camp going, plenty of supplies to last us a couple of weeks while we combed the island to clear away all the remaining lurchers. By nightfall we had a fire roaring; some of the girls were up on the wall, shooting flares, and the occasional bark of a rifle told that there was at least some rot still out there. "So, Sindhu," one of the girls sitting around the fire said, "you're sleeping in John's tent tonight, right?" There was some giggling after the question. By now, it had been well-established amongst the girls, if not with Sarah Mother Hen, that all of the girls should be having babies. With Emma five months along now, Sindhu was the oldest of the girls from Sarah's school who hadn't yet done her duty, and the other girls definitely felt her time was here. And so, it was a crowded tent that night. My niece, Jennie, of course, who hasn't been from my side at night since the troubles began; Kate, who wouldn't be away from me neither; Maggie, my new girl and one of the few recent arrivals from the Hammersmith hotel that Kate had allowed to come along with us on this mission, possibly because she knew I liked the girl's company. Emma, alas, was back home, as none of the older ladies would allow her to scamper about killing zombies while in her current condition. Which, I suppose, makes sense, although I was sure gonna miss those pregnancy-swollen tits of hers. They'd become my constant companions these last few months, and better companions a man could not possibly wish for. So in addition to these three, Jennie, Kate, and Maggie, Sindhu joined us as well. Speaking of fine companions, Sindhu herself was nicely stacked, especially for such a petite girl. She was easily the smallest of the four girls sharing my tent that night, and probably a foot and a half shorter than me. And as I said before, she had a a fighter's disposition, which contrasted wonderfully with her little stature. And speaking of contrast, the girl had the most charming set of C-cup breasts hanging off her chest, not as delightful as Emma's, to be sure, at least that's what my preliminary analysis concluded, having not actually seen Sindhu bare-chested before. I was hopeful that I'd have a chance to confirm or discount my theory shortly. It's an odd thing, to be getting ready to have sex for the first time with a girl when your tent is full of her friends. Sex becomes a communal act. Not that I'm complaining, of course. And girls being the way they are, they tend to view the deflowering of one of their companions, and in this case one of their favorites, as something of a mystical experience. A guy can feel like a bit of an afterthought in the whole experience. Kate, unsurprisingly, took the lead. As I mentioned, the girl loves a <i>ménage à trois</i>, or in this case, a ménage à cinq</i>. A light rain began to fall, pattering softly on the tent roof in a most alluring and romantic manner, as our commander knelt in front of me. The other girls watched intently as she unfastened my drawers. Soon she had her expert mouth wrapped around my cockhead. My niece Jennie shortly joined her, cupping a cool hand around my balls, the other rubbing my shaft. "He has such big balls, doesn't he?" she said, looking over at Sindhu, who nodded, ink black eyes fixed on my cock. Twelve-year-old Maggie joined the first two on her knees in front of me. Kate relinquished her position, standing up, and Maggie took over for her, sucking my cockhead in her pretty little mouth. Kate wrapped a blanket over Sindhu's shoulders and began undressing her, unbuttoning the young teen's blouse. I watched in fascination, wanting very badly to see Sindhu's nice big tits on her little chest. She helped Kate remove her blouse, and then unhooked her bra herself. Her breasts--oh my god her breasts! They were full and round and firm, a pale brown like the rest of her skin, topped with wide brown nipples. Kate cupped her hands under them and lifted them. "He likes them," she whispered to Sindhu. "Look at him stare!" I could see in the dim light the girl's cheeks blush. Then Kate moved her hands down and began unbuttoning Sindhu's pants. Meanwhile, Maggie took a break from my cock and Jennie took over, kissing, licking, sucking, while I watched Sindhu's pants fall to the ground. And then Kate pulled her panties down. Now Sindhu stood before me, naked, a full bush of dark hair between her legs. "Isn't she beautiful, John?" Kate asked me. "She is," I answered, in a state of mesmeration. I managed to look up at the girl's eyes. "You're so beautiful, Sindhu." She gave me a nervous little smile. "It's Sindhu's turn now," Kate said to Jennie and Maggie. The girls moved away, and Sindhu, with the blanket still around her shoulders, knelt before me. Kate watched the nervous girl, smiling. "Touch him," she said, "and kiss him, all over." The girl reverentially ran her fingers all over my manhood, then leaned in and kissed the top of my cockhead. "His balls, too," Kate said. She stepped forward and lifted my shaft, presenting my balls to Sindhu. "Kiss his balls, lots." Imagine the beauty of this sight, the beautiful Sindhu, on her knees in front of me, exploring every centimeter of my ballsack with her delicate mouth. By now, I was supercharged with sexual need. My cock was throbbing, pulsating already. I'm not sure if Sindhu could herself sense this, but Kate certainly could, and she let go of my shaft and helped her lieutenant to lay down. Sindhu was wide-eyed, nervous, excited, willing. She spread her legs for me. Sindhu's little fur-covered kitten was so wet that my head slid in instantly, enveloped in the loving kiss of her luxurious lips. I pushed in and her body stiffened as I pressed against her hymen; in the dim light I could see that her eyes close tight. I pulled back and pushed in again. The girls all crowded around, which made it very awkward for the man involved, and you'd think also for the girl. But Sindhu seemed to take comfort in having the girls with her and giving her tender pets as I set about the task of deflowering her. I myself was feeling a little, well, "performance anxiety" I suppose you might say. "Girls," I scolded, "can you give us a little privacy? Or at least a little room?" The girls giggled, which made Sindhu smile, and they backed off a bit. I smiled down at Sindhu in response, and she gave me an uncertain, though quite sweet, smile in return. "Are you okay, Sindhu?" I asked her. She nodded. "We can stop if you want." She shook her head. "You can't stop!" Maggie said. "You have to make her pregnant!" Jennie nudged the twelve-year-old. "He isn't going to stop," she whispered. "He's just being gentlemanly." All four of the girls giggled at that comment, even Sindhu. "Girls," I said, "you're really killing the mood here!" "Okay," Kate answered with a sigh. "Let's clear out so Loverboy can be alone with Sindhu." "Clear out?" Maggie said, "but it's raining!" "You don't have to leave," I said. "Just..." "Okay," Kate said. "We'll just sit quietly over here." The girls all giggled, and Sindhu gave me a sweet, nervous--or perhaps exasperated--smile. "Sorry about all this," I said, finally able to turn my attention back to her again. "I guess it's what we get for trying to do this here, with all these girls around." Sindhu smiled again. "It's okay." "Should we try again?" Beautiful Sindhu just nodded. I mounted her again, kneeling between her legs, leaning over her, directing my cock into her. She winced as I entered. I tried to be gentle, but I'd already determined that her hymen was intact and playing the stout defender, and it was my sworn duty to break down her barrier with my ram. Each of the girls watching from across the tent must have been remembering their own deflowering, one of them at my own hands some two years ago, the other two from another man, as my head finally tore her membrane asunder and dipped into the well of her womanhood. A few bold thrusts and I was all the way inside. I held myself there, the two of us now united, and gave her a kiss. She smiled up from beneath me, her eyes glistening with welling tears and glimmering with what might just be interpreted as happiness. "You... took my virginity," she whispered to me. "Yes," I whispered back. "I'm glad. I wanted you to be my first." She wrapped her little legs around me as best she could. "Why did you stop? Did you finish? Did you cum?" "No, not yet." "Good, I want you to stay inside me forever." It was still raining, softly, just a light pitter-pat against the tarp. We lay there and made love together. Sindhu's maiden performance was a remarkable thing, she seemed to know exactly what to do from instinct, and she moved her body in rhythm with mine. She was soaking wet, pussy cum flowing out of her, and she was warm, oh so wonderfully warm. And she was soft and sweet and caring and comforting; her lips were slick and luscious as they slid slowly up and down my shaft while I administered a gentle but powerful fucking. I made love to her warm vagina for what seemed like an eternity; it was at least fifteen minutes: slow, strong, controlled. The entire time she stared at my face, her eyes wide in the dim light. We were both entirely unaware of the other girls, who were watching us with fascination. Eventually, without speeding up at all, I felt my orgasm begin. "Sindhu," I whispered, "I'm going to cum." She tightened her legs around me, and I felt them quaking. "Oh, please cum, John, please! Put a baby in me John!" With that, my cum streamed out of me and into her. I held her tightly, we held each other, as I filled her with my sperm. We lay together and kissed, as the other girls crowded around, cheerfully congratulating Sindhu for how well she did. We all fell asleep afterwards in a big pile of bodies; four girls, and one very, very lucky man. Kate held three leashes in one hand, her rifle in the other. The dogs were as quiet as death. I followed behind. Suddenly all three dogs stopped instantly, heads up,, tails straight back. Kate and I raised our rifles and peered into the dimness of the thick brush. Seeing nothing, Kate gave her head a brief shake, then pulled back just slightly on the leash of one of the dogs; Bonnie, a little Beagle. Bonnie, loyal little Bonnie, who would face death in an instant without a moment's hesitation if only Kate asked her too, Bonnie leapt into the air, snarling and yelping. A lurcher appeared from nowhere, as if he had been frozen in time and was suddenly awakened by the dog's caterwauling. Before I could even bring my gun to bear, Kate had let lose ten rounds into the poor fucker's skull. His rotting brains became one with the bark of the surrounding trees. Kate knelt, looking up, eyes always out, always focused, always searching for the next lurcher. "Good girl," she said, scratching Bonnie behind the ears without lowering her eyes at all. The Beagle beamed, if a dog can do that, happy as you could imagine. This was the hardest of the lurcher-cleaning. Thick forest, mostly inert undead. These were the ones that had to be tracked down, one square foot at a time. There was no fucking way Kate was going to let one of our tribe's baby's set foot on this island until she and the dogs were one hundred percent certain that every damned zombie as dead. We dragged Zeke's body out of the woods, Zeke being what the girls called the lurchers these days. Zeke joined the pile of other Zekes, and Zeldas. We'd killed five so far today. And it wasn't even lunchtime yet. Kate had sent all the other girls back to homebase in two of the duckboats to get everyone ready. She and I alone stayed behind for mop up. She didn't want a crowd. Remember what she always said, best to travel light in the zombie apocalypse. The two of us and the dogs could do the cleanup just as efficiently as ten or twelve, and with a lot less risk to life and limb. Plus, I think it might have figured in her thinking, this left us alone on the island. Every night. By now we'd commandeered a beautiful master bedroom suite in the castle's modernistly refurbished home, a huge bed looking out through giant plate glass windows to the shore and the ocean beyond. There, in that kingly bed, in that big beautiful room, watching the orange globe of the sun disappear behind the endless sea, we made love. Night after night, every conceivable position, cock sucking and pussy sampling, and sex. Holy shit, the sex. Kate, an eleven-year-old​ nymphomaniac, self-described dirtiest girl you've ever met. And, I do think it's fair to say, the love of my life. ========== Epilogue Every once and a while, Kate would let her guard down. She'd open a little hole in that thick tough wall she built around herself, and for just a couple of minutes,she'd actually act like she was in fact an eleven year old girl. Like she was a child, not a seasoned warrior in the battle for life in a post-apocalyptic nightmare. It wasn't something you saw much before Alderney Island. But now... I think she was finally feeling happy, and at peace. And every now and again could be the Kate that she used to be before the troubles hit. Mind you, Kate never let her guard down when any of the girls were around, nor any of the women. I don't think she even ever did it intentionally around me. But when she was with the kids, the little ones--that's when you'd get a tiny glimpse of Kate, the eleven-year-old child. The girl who in an alternate universe where God hadn't abandoned the world to ruin, she'd be the most popular babysitter in the neighborhood; the parents would love her because she was smart and level-headed, and the kids would love her because she was so much fun to be around. I'd sit up at the top of the sand dunes when she didn't know I was there, and just watch her as she ran along the shore with the toddlers squealing behind her, pausing sometimes to pick up a half-broken sand dollar, or a crab, to show its claws to the little ones, who would stare in rapt attention at the wonderful amazing beauty of the world. There's a little more to this story yet to be told, but mostly the big role that Kate played in saving humankind has been related to you now. Within a few weeks, we'd found a young couple living in the French countryside, and managed to convince them to join us on the island. That was the first man other than me. He was a religious zealot, convinced that the world belonged to Satan and that any efforts on our part to advance human life on the terrestrial globe was service to the devil. Perhaps, he was willing to admit, inadvertent and unintentional service on our part, but service to the devil nonetheless. So that was a barrier to overcome, because, frankly, we needed his sperm. His DNA. Luckily his wife was a sharp woman, and a fine looking one, as well, and she knew how to use her physical attributes to get what she wanted. It took a bit more effort to convince him to mate with some of the other ladies in the tribe, too, but eventually we had a couple more little buns in the ovens. Things were starting to look up. Kate and I kept that beautiful master bedroom in the castle for our own, looking out to the sea from the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. With us every night were Jennie and Maggie, Emma and Sindhu, and often other girls. Sarah had long sense given up on the notion that she could, or should, keep me from her charges. I think Elizabeth had convinced her that it really was my duty to have sex with them all, to further the human race. A good woman she was, that Elizabeth. And so our days on Alderney Island were spent tending the crops and the animals and playing in the surf with the little ones, and at least a few times a month making the trip across the sea to London town, or now even more often to Paris, or other cities on the mainland, offing as many moaners as we could, and finding new breathers to join our tribe. And the nights on Alderney Island? Oh dear reader, the nights. Kate and me, and any number of other girls, rolling and rocking to the sounds of the crashing sea, until all of us collapsed, drained and exhausted, and sleeping the sleep of the truly happy. The truly blessed. And that, my friends, is the story of Commander Kate, and how she defeated the zombie horde and saved the human race. [If you like this story--or if you don't like it!--please consider leaving a comment at my erotic fiction web site, Thanks!]