I remember that day when the neighbors caught puberty. It happens to all of us eventually, usually around your twentieth birthday. It was their turn to catch it. They were twins, I think. I saw when they were loaded onto the ambulance to be taken to the quarantine district, what most of us called “The Quarry.” Their boobies were starting to come in, and it wouldn’t be long until they got peepees too.
My big sister and I were born two generations after the first infection. Our Mommy is a pretty werewolf whose self control is synced up with the moon. The closer it is to a full moon, the more her lust overrides her higher brain functions. We only get to see her for half of a month because of that, so my big sister had to learn how to take care of me fast.
Once, during one of Mommy’s lucid times, I asked her why we quarantine kids who caught the puberty. “It’s to protect them just as much as it is to protect the other kids,” she said, “If we didn’t quarantine them, they could seriously get themselves hurt, just as easily as they could hurt a little kid. Monsters usually can’t control their lust, so they usually live in the wilderness when they don’t have children to care for. The reason I go away with the waxing and waning of the moon is so that I don’t hurt you or your sister. Does that make sense, my pup?”
My big sister Susie had her 18th birthday recently, and already she’s starting to show the symptoms of the puberty. Every day, she needs to hide in her room to have some private time. I can hear her moan and squeak through the door when she does it. I was almost 10 when Susie said that I needed to learn to take care of myself before she had to get taken away. I was always the best cook between the two of us, so I supposed it wouldn’t be that hard.
“Molly,” she said to me one day, “do you ever wonder what kind of monster you’re gonna grow up to be?”
“I always figgered I’d be a woof, like Mommy,” I answered.
“It’s wolf, squirt,” Susie giggled, before getting all serious again, “Mom always said that you usually become the kind of monster your parents are when you finish your puberty. At least if I were a werewolf, I’d have self control half the time. I don’t even know what kind of monster made Mom pregnant. What if I turn into a monster that has no self control at all? What if… what if I end up hurting you just because I needed to fuck something, anything?!”
“Don’t say that!” I cried, terrified, “Please, don’t say that!”
Susie’s 19th birthday is coming up. Her boobies are starting to come in. Her clit is starting to grow into a peepee. The ambulance is coming to pick her up soon. I’m gonna be all alone for a while.