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Girl World (The Reverse Harem Records Book 1) Page 2
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Page 2
Worse than waxing.
I left the closure at three-quarter mast, if my eyes hadn’t been watering from the shock of pulled-pube pain, then maybe I’d have noticed the thatch of curly hair now protruding from the top of the zippered ladder.
“You okay, Cal? You look pained,” Tab observed as she stuffed a neon colored cocktail under my nose. “Here, drink up, oh, chosen one.” She slammed the glass to her lips and guzzled the lavender colored concoction as only a Viking could. Tabbernia wiped her pink membraned arm across her mouth to further bolster the image of a savage Dane. I caught the jibe: ‘ Oh, chosen one.’ I didn’t like the tone of it. I also didn’t like my friend’s aggressive behavior this evening.
She was bothered by me being chosen. And it was getting more apparent with each passing minute. I sipped at my drink, pondering my options, thinking only of how to ‘contain’ any potential eruption that might come from my lifelong buddy. The drink was like acid concealed in artificial sweetener, so I pulled minute amounts from the straw to my lips. I had a whole load of work cut out for me tonight, and the only thing I wanted was to be at home. Another display of sacrifice. Which is why you were chosen. I shook my head to clear the intruder thought.
“Where’s Nivven?” I shout to my companion over the loud and tinny harem music. Nomad was the seediest, wildest -- and, therefore, the busiest -- of the harem clubs in ‘Take the Night’ plaza. I hated the place. It seemed to me that torture, abuse, humiliation was the name of the game here. Against their will, male slaves were used as sex servants at these Harem Clubs. Not that that was unusual. Each female household had its own host of male bodies to do the household and sexual chores. But, within these walls of Nomad, the cruelty and debasement of men were celebrated by hardened, jeering women. To my mind, it was completely backward to what we were trying to achieve on Earth now. To learn what the Nordic’s were going to teach us: Love. Nomad was the antithesis of love. It was scorn, hatred, derision. It was also the most popular club in the plaza, so I guess you could say we had a long way to go before change was embraced. Introducing Love to a loveless society was going to be pretty similar to how the Christian’s must have felt when they were trying to spread the word of Christ. My stomach clenched at the mountain of challenges and struggle I was surely going to face after I brought back the ‘knowledge.’
“Well, if it isn’t two of the sexiest kittens in the club!” I felt an alcohol saturated kiss, wet and sloppy on the side of my neck. I looked down to see Nivven, our diminutive colleague from the She Council. Her hair was alive with glitter-snakes, worming their way endlessly through each of her usual fair tresses. I shivered. I’d seen these hair accessories in Pretty Things window, and I didn’t care for the way they coiled and slithered. At 70 runes a pop the hair decorations seemed excessive.
“Nivvy!” Tab squealed, holding up her Council card once more and waving at the barman.
“Nivven, hi,” I bent down to give our friend a quick squeeze. “Looking ravishing, as always,” I gushed. The woman was a fucking party animal, and if anything was going to loosen Tab’s bolts tonight, it was going to be this chick. This mad-as-a-hatter and mean-to-men partier. I felt my shoulders slump. Too. Much. Work.
“So? Callyn? Excited as fuck at going to Merah then?” Nivven asked, her eyes dancing over my face and body.
“Well, it’s going to be interesting, for sure,” I offered. I was trying to downplay it… to be as humble as I could about it. I wanted to get out of here alive.
“You’re being brought to a temple of love. Merah. A temple the Nordic’s themselves built. Here. In this city. You’re about to take part in the biggest cross-species orgy of the history of the world, and you say it’s going to be ‘interesting?’” Niv cocked a purple eyebrow at me, while expertly grabbing her neon drink from the serving tray the bartender had brought over.
“Niv, nobody knows what it’s going to be like. Nobody knows what’s going to happen.” I stated simply, taking another teeny-tiny pull on the straw that was thrust into my hideous drink. Still, just my shortie friend’s words were enough for the residual pube pain to be overshadowed by a warm glow from the same region. Just temporarily, but still. Niv knew nothing. The same as everyone else, but her words excited me beyond belief; I won’t lie. It was something about the idea of sex AND love coming together. An entirely alien (ha! punny!) concept, but one every bone in my body told me I needed to explore.
“Can you believe that Callyn was surprised that she was picked?” Tabbernia uttered, draping her pink-skinned arm over Nivven’s shoulders while the pair looked intently at my face.
“Fuck off. Cal, you’re kidding, right?” Niv jibed. “Callyn Roth, reserved, measured, unbiased, altruistic toward the pigs, and evergreen diplomat? You didn’t think you’d get picked?” Tab crashed her glass on Nivven’s goblet, and the pair downed their drinks in one grotesque slug, not waiting for me to answer. Which was good, because I didn’t have one. Tabbernia jabbed me in the ribs with her elbow.
“Drink up, kitten, fuck; this is supposed to be YOUR celebration!” My friend turned on her heel, grabbing Niv by the arm and led us, (me, half unwillingly) to Nomad’s underground chambers. We passed under a shingle whose jaunty words belied what really went on in its rooms: “Where the REAL fun happens!” I want to go home.
We walked through a large steel door, rusty and blemished with golfball sized bolts and into a darkened passageway. I blinked a few times, trying to speed up the light adjustment. A few tiny flames here and there, provided by narrow black candles that adorned the walls at intervals.
The soft aroma of fresh sweat and orgasm wafted in the drafts of the black corridor.
“Let’s chill in the carpet room first, catch up, have a drink and whatnot,” Tab offered.
“A great way to start this show,” Nivven agreed, waving a small baggie of brightly colored pills at Tabbernia.
“Cal?” Tab turned back to me. Sacrifice. Play the part. Diffuse.
“Sure,” I smiled at my friend. I hoped that the grin reached my eyes.
Nivven opened a door on our right, and we passed through a Moroccan arch to a room bedecked with colored hanging lamps, a profusion of rugs, floor cushions, and ottomans. The carpeted room was a ‘girl’s only’ zone. A place to relax pre or post ‘chambers.’ There were a couple of middle eastern women, stretched out naked in front of the open fire in the middle of the room. One was lying on her back, while the other was resting her head in her hand, propped up on one elbow and tickling the reclining woman with a peacock feather.
We took an area in the far corner, just outside of the flame-light of the fire. An amber glass pendant light hung over our carpeted corner casting a romantically warm glow. Tabbernia and Niven flopped down on floor cushions next to one another, and I was about to take a seat on an ottoman across from them when Niv sprang from her seat and grabbed the ‘stuck’ zipper in between my legs.
“What the FUCK is this?” She squealed, braying her grating laugh and yanked on the zipper.
“Argh!” I punched my height-challenged friend in the face. Hard. It wasn’t intentional, and I swear that’s true. It was instinct. The pain of having my pubes ripped apart and out by the zipper just induced a panicky reaction. I couldn’t have helped myself, no matter how you look at it.
Niv reeled back to the cushions next to Tab, my friend grabbing her punch-drunk buddy to inspect the damage.
“What the fuck, Cal!” Tab flashed me an angry look while Niv sat there, her mouth agape.
“I-I’m sorry, Niv. Truly. I dropped to my knees and reached tentatively across to the fallen woman. I felt my pubes tug against the zipper as I knelt, bringing a fresh wave of eye-watering pain.
“Sh-sh-she. She’s got a big th-th-thatch of her b-bush caught in her z-zipper.” We thought Niv was crying. But she was actually losing her shit with laughter. She pointed a perfectly manicured nail toward my crotch and the trapped pubic fuzz. Tab’s eyes narrowed.
“Bahahahahah!�
� Tabbernia roared, falling backward onto Nivven. I watched them both roll up into balls of hysterical giggles. I laughed. I couldn’t help it. And as my shoulders juddered, my zipper continued its biting assault on my aggrieved pubes. I laughed harder.
“Ok, ok, assholes. So I don’t groom as regularly as you guys do.” I chucked a pillow at each of them laughingly.
A man-servant brought our drinks -- the exact ones we had ordered at the bar earlier and placed them on the low mahogany table between us. I was thankful nobody had noticed me leaving my last drink on the table we had occupied earlier. Tab passed me my florescent beverage. This time I gulped a good measure from the straw. Nasty tasting, but I was in ‘sacrifice’ mode, so I had to play the part to keep the peace.
“Wow, are you gonna make an appointment with the Forestry Commission about that wilderness?” Tab asked, bending down to peer closer at the overgrowth. “ I mean, seriously, Cal, it would be like … a dishonor or something, if you present THAT on your first stay at Merah.”
My friend’s face was visibly horrified at the ‘letting go’ of my preening habits. I snorted.
“I don’t know why you even bother keeping it so ‘organized’ “ (Air quotes) “down there,” I continued. “ Why would you bother when you have so much contempt for the men who ‘service’ you there?”
Tab’s lips turned up in a crafty smile. “It’s not for the pigs, stupid,” she replied, peeling her own crotch zipper downward in a slow teasing motion. “It’s for the women.” She turned her head toward Niv and licked her lips knowingly.
“Puuuuuurrrrrrrr,” Nivven gushed, and in one fluid motion she dipped her head down to Tab’s sex, tugging at the zipper to reveal the full length and breadth of my good friend’s crack. Nivven inhaled deeply, pressing her nose into Tab’s glistening vulva. She pulled back, turned to me smiling, her nose glossy with Tabbernia’s juice and then, making ‘yummy’ noises, planted her head back between my friend’s legs. Tab threw her head back as Niv’s tongue brushed over her engorged clit.
“Delicious. Fucking delicious.” Niv murmured between tonguing Tab’s greasy cunt. I felt a throb in my own love button, and I wanted to finger it. But, I couldn’t risk it. Even with my breath deepening at the pleasant display before me it was pulling on my pubes. Still, I was a little surprised that I was kinda enjoying this pain and pleasure combo. Very titillating. I brushed my finger on the outside of the thin space-fabric instead. Sadly my zipper was running the length of all the erogenous zones of my slit, so I couldn’t really get to the most essential ‘points’ without a good amount of pube-plucking, if you know what I mean? The zipper’s teeth were also biting into my soft folds a little. Could this closure system be any more mean to me?
“Oooh, that’s it, kitten, right there,” Tab cooed as Niv’s tongue grazed her clit in circular motions. Nivven’s face was dripping in Tab’s fluids and her own drool, and I was getting very hot ‘under the hood.’ I dragged my fingers along my zipper and immediately winced at the pain. But the cool and jagged metal teeth also felt rather delicious as they scraped over my clit. At the top of the first wave of zipper pain came the renewed pulled-pube pain. I noticed my clit was so large and so wet that both the contoured outline and the gushing wetness was visible through the space-fabric. Yep, I was definitely getting off on this pain and pleasure deal. You learn something new …
I turned my attention to my entwined friends. Nivven was in full lapping mode now. I could hear the squelchy sounds coming from none other than a dripping wet tongue working its way into a very sodden hole. Niv was tongue fucking Tab’s cute little pussy, and Tabbernia loved every second of it by the way her hips were bucking up toward Nivven’s face, the latter clamping her lips around the whole of Tab’s mound. And the squelching noise continued. Both of them were groaning. Two prominent members of the International She Council, sprawled in the city's seediest harem, one of them eating the other out like there was a food shortage. The two facts didn’t seem to mix, but maybe that’s what made it so hot. I tugged on my zipper again, wincing in hurt and ecstasy as the toothsome metal scraped across my pussy. I watched as Tabbernia raised herself to her knees and turn away from Nivven. Tab pressed her palms into the wall and jutted out her rear end, her ass cheeks parting slightly to reveal her delectable dark hole. Niv got the hint. The woman with iridescent snake decorations in her hair plunged her tongue into Tabbernia’s forbidden hole, pulling apart her butt cheeks at the same time. Tab gasped and thrust her ass onto her tiny friend’s face. I could see Tabbernia’s fingers at work on her clit as her friend probed her anal orifice with an eager tongue. It was too much for me. With one final yank of the zipper, I came. The sting on my clit was surreal, but through the pain, I felt the sweet torrent of release. Tab, it seemed, had just reached the same conclusion, her hand flying expertly across her sex as Nivven devoured Tab’s tangy hole with her strong tongue. She let a low, guttural moan, and collapsed her forehead to the Moroccan tiled wall, panting. Niv’s head dipped lower, and she lapped at the orgasm that had flooded Tabbernia’s cunt, slurping and moaning as she did so. My friend remained with her forehead against the wall, shuddering the last of her juices to her hungry friend between her legs.
We all three fell back against the floor cushions, spent from our impromptu ‘session.’
“Who needs men, when you can get that kind of pleasure?” Tab’s voice was still thick with desire. I bit.
“Don’t you want to find out what life was like when men and women were in love? When they worked in partnership? I mean, don’t you find this whole subservient thing kinda boring?” I queried.
My friend arched a sweaty brow at me and reached for her drink. “How many women were in power before we took over?” She asked, her tone serious. “How many, Cal?”
“Why do you always lead with that question?” I demanded. “How many times do we have to go over this, Tab?” I sucked on my straw, drawing more of the foul liquid into my mouth. It was slightly warm now, making the taste even more sweetly-bitter. “So there were only a handful of women in power back in the day. Before we took over. But there WERE women in power, Tab. The German chancellor, the British PM to name a couple. What’s the point you’re trying to make?”
“Okay, let’s try it another way, then,” Tab pressed. “How many recorded rapes or violence against women has there been since the She Council came into power?”
My shoulders dropped in defeat. There was no point to this conversation; we were just covering the same old ground we always did whenever this debate came up. “None.” Tab continued. “That’s a big fat zero. Now, can you tell me how many rapes, sexual brutality, workplace bullying and harassment, physical and emotional abuse against women reports were recorded by the She Council PRIOR to us holding the reigns?”
I said nothing.
“That’s right. Millions, Cal. Not hundreds, not thousands, but, millions. In THIS city alone. You want to recreate that world, be my guest, but I think Niv here will agree with me on this … all men are worthless, pathetic pigs. As far as I’m concerned, they’ve lost their right to anything and everything. They’re here to serve and to be contained, nothing more. And the idea that we could possibly reintegrate them? Ha!” She slammed down her freshly drained glass, emphasizing her last point. “And, there’s not one fucking loveable thing about the ass-hats,” she mumbled, barely containing her bitterness.
I tried again.
“But, Tab, don’t you think that because of the way we now treat me, that we’ve actually created the barrier to loving and respecting them ourselves? We’ve made them into automatons, Tab. We’ve fashioned them into lowly beings with no desire to please. We’ve beaten them into submission so completely that they have lost all knowledge of their own strengths. How could we love another when they have no idea how to love themselves. And they can’t love themselves, Tab, because we won’t LET them!” I drained the last of the hideous drink and banged it down on the table for emphasis, matching the importance of my poin
t to my friend’s last point. Niv chimed in then, her face still a shining wet mess from eating out Tabbernia.
“They’re useless shills,” she sighed simply. “And, you, Cal-- even though you’re about to have a whole bunch of alien knowledge fucked into you -- are a dreamer if you think you can bring this society back into balance.” Niv sat up and kissed the side of Tab’s neck. “Besides, even if there WERE a way for these idiots to fit back into society, who’d want it?” Niv chuckled. It sounded mean. “Most women I know LOVE this world we’ve created. Most wouldn’t want the men anywhere other than the positions we have them in now. It’s working, Cal. We don’t need alien input. Nordic, or otherwise.” Nivven’s face was still rosy from her earlier exploits, but it was the smug smile that I wanted to slap clean off those red-stained lips.
“If it’s working so well, then why are our heartlands like the wild west right now? Why are so many male servants escaping their work lives, leaving the comforts of food, warm shelter, clothing, a wage even, and fleeing to these lawless lands?” I ventured. “And, what happens when those heartlands spill outward? When the men get strong and form a plan? What then? I mean, is this what you guys want? Gender coup after gender coup until the end of time? The enslavement of one gender over the other time and time again? Is that the kind of world the She Council is trying to build?”
Of course, I knew the She Council was completely split down the middle on the idea of integration. Our Golden Chair, thankfully, was on the side of integration, and Dorring DuMaurier was actually one of the women who was picked for receiving the knowledge. She had also been the one who had received the first channeling advising our species of the coming communications from the Nordic’s.
“Sure, we have some work to do, I’ll admit. Maybe cut their hours from seventy-five to sixty a week instead, but giving them equal standing? Pfft. Asking for trouble.” Tab’s eyes locked onto mine, and their shine held a hardness that I’d never noticed before the last couple of weeks and all this talk and excitement of Nordic communication.