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(As a note at the start, this is heavily inspired by DeviantArt series "My Life Sucks" by author Neverhax. I highly recommend. It's brilliant **** porn.)

Hello, my name is Hope. I am the middle child, right in between my sister Faith on my right and Charity on my left. We are triplets. Conjoined triplets!!! Isn't that amazing!? I'll answer that right of the park for you: Hell no!

Isn't that enough that I have to share my whole fucking entire life not with one, but TWO sisters that will never even for a second leave my alone? Well, apparently not. It gets far worse. How many bodies should conjoined triplets have? If your answer is 1, then we are your ideal set! 3 heads on the same torso. And how many arms should such set have? If your answer is 6, then we are your ideal set! With one hitch, tho: None of them are mine!!! Yes, we have this weird nervous system, that's connected so none of our 6 arms is mine. What's even weirder is that Faith and Charity don't control their own side of our body, each. Faith controls our top row and charity controls our bottom row with the middle one being shared. But each controls her own 3 legs out of our 6 in total, or their 6 in total, more like. Between them, we have 5 pussies. Since each of my sisters have 3 legs, they have 2 crotches in between, so 1 per crotch. I have I pussy that's right between Faith's left and Charity's right leg. But we only have 1 uterus. Who's the lucky one that suffers the most with it? You guessed it, the middle one; ME.

To describe us bit closely, We are giant beauties, both in the sense of being just very beautiful and in the sense that we are giant. We have 6 feet and 6 inches and our heads are relatively narrow, so we don't require god knows how wide frame. It's about us wide as 2 average women tightly next to each other with the outer heads being closer to the shoulders than usual, as we are basically 3 very narrow frames connected to the other. Our body basically has 3 stripes: mine is the narrowest; about 15-20 centimeter wide vertical stripe from my neck all the way down is what belongs to my and what I can feel. And in spite of being huge birth anomaly, our body doesn't appear deformed in any visible way. We are symmetrical. We are fair, pale redheads with 8 plump tits. Yeah, 8. Well theirs are big and plump, each has 2 a size of about DDD, I for some reason have 4, but only the size of BB. Our doctors speculate that this is because my third is the one with uterus and suffers the most during periods and would be the one suffering in case we get pregnant.

As you are probably thinking at the moment, yes, I am completely powerless part of the set, I have no arm or leg to control, meaning everything I somehow get involved with is my sisters doing and I'm completely, 100%, fully dependent on them. It is extremely frustrating, because since childhood, I envied everyone else in our abusive orphanage who had their own limbs. I was always depressed that I will never be able to eat what I want, read a book that I want, buy and use a cellphone that I want, to purchase anything at all that I want, go to a movie that I want, or just the most basic things like to go on a walk, to jog, go to sleep, scratch my itch or masturbate on my own accord. These basic things often left my crying from the depression, much to my sisters' annoyance.

And lack of access to these things wasn't the worst about it. Even though I have esophagus, just like Faith and Charity do, along with our shared GI system, I almost never got to eat at all. In orphanage, we always got small rations per head (luckily for my sisters) and since they were so hungry, they ate my food as well, because why not, when I wouldn't on my own, not to mention that I am the one that disposes the waste. I have to tell them when to piss and shit and they don't even realize what it's like to need to do our business, when they whine and groan about that. When we were little I sometimes shat myself from their unwillingness to use the toilet. To this day, I sometimes pee us in bed, because they wouldn't wake up. Guess who always catches all the shit?

Inability to read on my own is ****, because providing that my sisters read in a position in which I can too (ie. not while lying face-down) and that they read while sharing a single copy, instead of each reading her own copy, preventing me from a good look, I was lucky if they read at all. They rarely did and it was usually some crap like 50 shades and other perversions.

Movies was special kind of ****. Earlier, when I disagreed with their movie choice, They would dress up in a way, so they could hide me, so they don't have to pay for the third viewer who doesn't even want be there.

Walking out was out of the question. Not only because the orphanage had strict rules of orphans not being allowed to leave premises, even after we got out, my sisters just don't like to go out, while I am an adventurous type born in a wrong body.

Sleeping is another kind of ****. Me being just a head, I had excess energy. Because of that and often going to sleep depressed, with a head full of thoughts, It would take me a time to fall asleep. Since sleep regenerates energy, my sisters sleeping before me would help to prevent me from falling asleep, which would sometimes result in me, not sleeping at all. Try to go to your bad for a night and just lie there still, doing nothing but watching ceiling, being unable to grab a book or a cellphone, to go pee, to scratch your itch to do anything at all!!! Just lie motionlessly for 8 hours, listening to snores, clocks, farts and other night noises and being left with nothing but your anguish over batshit crazy circumstances of your birth.

And masturbation, oh boy. Imagine sharing your sex drive with someone really horny, escalating the sex drive with masturbation, then multiply it by 2, because that person has 2 vaginas and then by another 2, because it's 2 people connected to you!! And then imagine the anguish and pain when their 2 remaining hands do nothing to alleviate it for you, while you can't do anything about it, because you don't have a single arm!!!!! That's some psychological ****.

Just to finish the anatomy part for you, we have 4 lungs, but only my trachea is directly connected to the middle 2 and Faith and Charity have 1 each. Another way for the completely powerless one to do the heavy lifting. Pretty good leverage on their part. They can withhold me from their share of oxygen, so I get shortness of breath. I also am the one with complete spine. It branches off, to allow my sisters to move, while allowing us more flexibility than if we had 1 spine each. But I have no heart! Since we are about the size of 2 large men, we have one heart on the right side and one on the left. My share is so small, that I don't need one, I guess.

When we got out of the orphanage, we got to see a doctor that the assholes running the orphanage would deprive us of. I was praying that she would diagnose us with some horrible disease that had ample time to mature while we couldn't see a doctor, like cancer, some hidden heart condition and other things that on occasion happened in the orphanage because of lack of medicine. Keep in mind that during our childhood, we were isolated from much of the world and knowledge and had basically no way of knowing how dangerous it can be to be conjoined twins and that they often die young or even as babies, much less how insane our situation is. For all I knew, conjoined twins didn't exist and conjoined triplets were born about once per 100 babies or something, as I remember around 100 children in the orphanage.

So anyway, the doctor did a comprehensive checkup of our general condition. Then she referred us to other specialists like neurologist, OBGYN, orthopedist and others. I kept praying that we or at least I am about to die and finally leave this life of suffering. At the end of the day, our doctor told us that in spite of being in our position of likelihood of about 1:10 billion, we are unexpectedly supremely healthy, with no birth defects or predisposition to any possible deadly affliction related to conjoined twins nor any disease and as long as we keep visiting doctor and listen to them, we might very well live up to our 90s. I was crushed by the news and I thought that I will never stop crying about it. But the doctor tried to console me, telling me things like to not lose hope, because there's a beauty in life, that happiness is state of mind and that we can have it from finding joy in the small things we have and that lives give us opportunities and that one day, I might get one, so I can grab it by the neck and to use it to its maximum. What a fucking idiot.

With this basic information at your hand, I think you are all guessing that my life is just horrible almost beyond words, like a giant, never-ending **** session. Abusive orphanage left extremely bad impression on everyone in it, my sisters included, making my situation somehow even worse. Since we had nobody caring for us, all that we have because of our predicament is mutual resentment and dislike. Their **** even made them hardened, borderline sociopathic bitches, so you can only imagine what that taught them to treat their little parasitic, freeloading third wheel. And ultra-religious nature of the place has led them to lots and lots of sexual repression, leading them to the journey of sexual adventures and perversion. Without my input! They now work as paid escorts, always wearing something kinky, always enjoying deserved sexual release, while I always suffer in-satiated, yet easily quenchable repression.