Princess Of Wands

By Mika Doll

To persevere in challenging times, creativity is asked for, not only at home, in Washington, but also overseas, where John finds friends and allies in his fight for Africa’s future, which stands for the future of all of humanity.
Please note: This work of fiction does not claim to be erotica, as it aims to be stimulating in more than one way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mika Doll
• Release date: Dec 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005603540

Mika Doll

Born and grown up behind the Iron Curtain, and after a decade-long stopover in West Berlin, Mika found a new home in Canada and now enjoys the laid-back country life in picturesque Nova Scotia, a paradise for writers and individualists. Besides raising two children and several chickens, as an outspoken advocate for permaculture, self-reliance and De-growth, Mika is also trying to raise awareness for the challenges of our time, and with a lifelong fascination for history, philosophy and anthropology likes to look in particular from this angle at the complex nature of human sexuality.

Book preview

PRINCESS OF WANDS

An Erotic Bedtime End Time Story

By MIKA DOLL

Book Five of the Destiny Series

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2021 by Mika Doll

Cover art by Mika Doll, use of tarot cards courtesy of Carl-W. Röhrig.

Copyright Tarot-Cards by Carl-W. Röhrig 2017, www.roehrigart.com

Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events, places or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. The issues raised, however, are real.

Table of Contents:

Chapter 1 - Old Foes, New Friends

Chapter 2 - Bukake And Bonobos

Chapter 3 - Taboo And Perception

Chapter 4 - Genes And Gossip

Chapter 5 - Stress Relief

Chapter 6 - Art and Anthropology

Chapter 7 - Bliss And Blithe

Chapter 8 - Drivers And Desires

Chapter 9 - The Audience

Chapter 10 - Yin And Yoni

Chapter 11 - Untapped Potential

Chapter 12 - Houseguests

Chapter 13 - The Event

Chapter 14 - Desert Sand

Chapter 15 - The Good Old Days

Chapter 16 - Bare Skin

Chapter 17 - Kundalini

Chapter 18 - The Gathering

Chapter 19 - Kinks And Quirks

Chapter 20 - The Arrangement

Chapter 21 - Blessing And Curse

Chapter 22 - Business With Benefits

Chapter 23 - Sea Of Tears

Chapter 24 - Two Worlds

Chapter 25 - Progress

Chapter 26 - 47

Chapter 27 - Show Business

Chapter 28 - Pioneers

Chapter 29 - Familial Bonds

A Big Thank You To All My Readers

About The Author

Connect With Mika

Chapter 1

Old Foes, New Friends

Welcome back, sir, Susan greeted her boss at the gate of the military terminal of Charles de Gaulle airport.

Major Brewer! This is a surprise. Where is Diana? John asked.

Specialist Chang went with Major Wilke to Germany, visiting his mother and seeing about getting us German drones.

I see, you gave Diana time off, John remarked.

Well, sir, since she is with Wilke, she’s pulling herself together. Anyway, the major needed a driver, Susan explained.

Did he. And I may assume there has been no other driver available. Did you miss me so much that you had to come yourself to pick me up? John had to tease her.

As a matter of fact, sir, I did, replied Susan frankly. Besides that, it indeed was hard to find someone else, sir. By now, most of our people are shipped out.

So, everything proceeds still as planned, John presumed.

While John followed his aide through airport security, she began to give him an update on the current status. So far, we’re keeping our timetable. General Meisner has moved into his headquarters in Tunis. The French are advancing south through Mauritania unhindered and ahead of schedule, Susan reported.

Please, major, let’s not talk about it right now. I have a terrible headache. You wouldn’t have an Aspirin?

I do, sir, in the car. Hangover? Susan asked with a grin.

Oh, gee, our new Russian friends let the vodka flow yesterday. Bottle after bottle was put on the table, and once a bottle is opened, it’s not closed again until it’s empty.

I may assume there was a reason to celebrate then. So, the Russians are indeed coming aboard. There are already the wildest rumors going around, from providing choppers and air transport to deploying the Spetsnaz. Is there is any truth to it, sir? Susan wanted to know.

Nobody I’ve talked to has mentioned the Spetsnaz. However, we get some choppers and transport aircraft, and more importantly, trucks and APCs for our troops.

As soon as they sat in the car, Susan gave him an Aspirin and offered him her water bottle, with the remark, I hope you don’t mind.

Water is water, John replied and, without hesitation, drank from her bottle.

Catching a closer look at his uniform, Susan noticed the two stars. You’ve been promoted to major-general. Congratulations, sir!

Oh, please, spare me that. Albright just pinned a second star on me only so that the Russians wouldn’t mistake me for one of the staff. If you think about how ridiculous this all is. Instead of sending some high-ranking officials from the State Department to smooth things over with our adversaries, there appears a little two-star-general to represent the great United States. Unbelievable. What did we have come to?

But you have succeeded where others have failed, sir. Having the Russians on our side in Africa is at least a first step in the right direction to normalize the relationship between our two nations, Susan replied and started the car.

Wow, how eloquent, major. May I use that in my next report? I got to say you’d make a good politician.

I’m afraid that’s not me.

Maybe not. You’re too humble and honest for that, John said.

Susan felt flattered. But each time he made her a compliment she was not sure how to reply, and so avoided it by changing the topic. I’m curious. How is it so in Russia? Susan asked.

Unfortunately, I haven’t seen much of the country, to tell you the truth. They had shown us around Moscow, John said and started telling Susan about his trip. "There were six of us Washington had thrown together on the quick. One of them was Albright’s son, for whom it was probably more of a business trip. Didn’t get much to see of the guy, which was perhaps for the better. I can’t stand this arrogant bastard. Besides him, we had a female interpreter with us, the only one from the State Department, as well as a security specialist, a former CIA man. For the talks with Marshal Gregorjev and his generals, I’d chosen two old friends from the Pentagon to accompany me. They already had some experience with the Russians and made sure that I wouldn’t fall for their usual tricks.

"Interestingly, though, I didn’t have the impression that the Russians wanted to deceive us. On the contrary, we were surprised by their courtesy and hospitality. They took us to a concert of the Moscow Philharmonic Orchestra. We saw a superb ballet performance, Swan Lake by Tchaikovsky, and got spoiled with fantastic food, Champagne and caviar. It was the Russia as we were supposed to see it. Of course, they have practice building Potemkin Villages, but behind the lovely façade, it doesn’t look any different than anywhere else. Their economy is pretty hard hit, and they as well see the urgent need for global stability to allow for trade to return. After all, that’s what we all want.

Basically, the Russians are like us, ordinary folks that just want to live their lives, John continued. I met people so full of joie de vivre, of humor, honesty, and helpfulness; I think the view most of us hold of the Russians doesn’t do justice to these people. It might be that I’m biased, but I like the Russians, their culture, mentality, and language, and I have to admit, also their women. They have this outgoingness. You just smile at them, and they smile back. And many of them are damn pretty. In Moscow, you get to see a lot of European faces, of course, but you also have Asians among them, with long dark hair and those almond-shaped dark eyes, just gorgeous.

Susan gave her boss a dubious look when she heard him going on about Russian women. Had there been something in that Aspirin, she began to wonder. For a man who claimed to have a hangover, the general seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood.

But then, it became quiet in the car. Talking about long dark hair and almond-shaped eyes, in John’s mind appeared again the exotic countenance of Major Simonova, the appointed officer leading the negotiations for the Russians. Smart, fluent in English, and right from the beginning, she had made no secret of being with the Main Intelligence Directorate, the world’s largest spy agency, and as such, Major Simonova had certainly done her homework.

It should not have surprised John that the Russians knew about his five years as a castaway, that his wife had died during the pandemic, and that he now was married again to a woman 25 years younger. They knew the number of children he had, what they were doing for a living, about The Wild Side, and with a smirk, Major Simonova had remarked, What puzzled us, though, shouldn’t it be Villa Villekulla instead of House Villekulla? His bafflement must have shown on his face. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, general. I just had to shake the tree a little, she had confessed with a delightful laugh.

A beautiful, charming woman, intelligent and self-assured, frankly admitting even she was a spy; no question it had raised all of John’s alarm bells, and his suspicion must have been obvious too, when Major Simonova had assured him that her mission was not to gather any secret information, rather trying to build a ‘base for mutual trust.’

To prove she meant it, she had started out first and had told him her name was Larissa. Her friends and family, however, would call her Lara, and she right away had offered John to call her Lara too. During their private conversation at a dinner party, John had learned she was born ‘behind the mountains’ where she had grown up in a small Siberian town. Once 18, she had escaped its boredom by following in the footsteps of her father, who had ended his army career as a colonel. Now, with 42, she would have almost caught up with him, and Lara had joked about her own ambitions to surpass her late father still. This had reminded John of himself, as well as of his son Nick, and they had discovered that by coming from a traditional military family, both seemed to have more in common than there were differences between them. In fact, the only significant difference seemed to be that they were born in different countries.

Whoever had chosen Major Simonova to be their host and liaison had done so wisely. She certainly had accomplished her mission. After only a few days with her, there was no one in Russia who John would have trusted more.

Susan brought John’s mind back to the present by saying, You probably got plenty of opportunities to practice your Russian, sir.

Oh, certainly, John replied and became chatty again. That was a funny intelligence lapse on their side. They seemed to know everything about me, except that I’ve been learning Russian for months already and could understand quite a bit of what they were saying to each other. See, the Russians can’t be rushed. During the first two days, we just felt each other out, discussed everything else while I just listened, read, and tried to absorb as much as I could. On the third day, we finally came to talk about the role I envisioned for the Russian contingent and handed Marshal Gregorjev a list of everything the ITF would need, like water trucks, fuel trucks, APCs, transport helicopters, and so on. Gregorjev and his generals just laughed and made jokes that American’s needed trucks and how much they wanted to see cowboys on camels. Our interpreter didn’t deem it necessary to translate, maybe to spare me the embarrassment, so I asked Gregorjev directly if he rather wanted to provide the ITF with combat troops while America supplied the trucks instead. I assured him my president would certainly welcome a less costly solution for us if others were willing to take on a more active role.

Must have given them a nice surprise, sir. Probably shut them up right away, Susan assumed.

On the contrary, they just laughed. Gregorjev slapped my shoulder, called me a toertoi kalasz, which means, as I was told later, as much as rascal, and then, he got the vodka out. After the third bottle and having to learn a variety of Russian folk songs, I eventually got what I wanted, John said with a triumphant smirk.

I guess Washington will be pleased, sir. You have indeed all reason to be in such a good mood, Susan remarked and asked, How is it going at home if you don’t mind my question, sir?

Not at all. The president is fine, going on ranting and raving about the Chinese, who are simply doing what we can only dream of.

I didn’t mean politics, sir. How was your vacation?

Oh, just great. My son Nick and my sons-in-law are in Washington now, and I’m waiting to hear from both my daughters. It can be any day now, and I’ll have two more grandchildren, a boy and a girl, John shared with Susan and could not hide how excited he was.

Surely, that must have been another reason for him being so cheerful. I guess your wife too, must have been happy to have you home for a few days, Susan remarked.

Well, I guess she probably would be much happier if I stayed home for good. Maybe it would make me happier too, who knows? Why not simply kick it and go home to my family where I belong? But then, of course, someone else has to take over my job. Are you interested, major? John teased her with a smile.

No, thanks, sir. I’m not a hard enough drinker. I’m afraid I couldn’t keep up with the Russians, Susan replied, returned his smile, and asked, Sir, you said staying home might make you happier. If you had the choice, I mean hypothetically, what would you do in civilian life, going into politics?

Susan’s nondescript expression did not reveal if she was just joking or not, and so John decided on a subtle answer. I’m afraid I’m as much of a politician as you are. No, politics is not for me. Lying or deceiving people is not my forte. But, I can tell you what I’d rather do instead. I would move into a big mansion as luxurious as you can’t imagine it, Susan. And I would be managing a very exclusive nightclub. I mean something really extravagant. Then, I’d surround myself with a whole bunch of sexy women, and together, we dance on the volcano until it blows us all to heaven.

Susan leered at the Aspirin package. Maybe she should try one of those too. You’re pulling my leg, she said.

John started laughing. I’m just kidding, Susan. Do you really think I would do that, and just leave you? No, don’t worry, major; I will stick around for a while longer. Anyway, who wants to have this job?

They had already left the outskirts of Paris behind and were only 10 minutes away from the general’s apartment. Since there was not much time left, and they were alone, Susan finally seized the chance to ask him, Sir, someone gave me two tickets for a cabaret show, Tuesday evening. Would you care to accompany me?

Susan’s heart was beating like a hammer in her chest. She had practiced the line a few times in front of the mirror that morning, but now it had come out pretty flat and uninspired as if she wouldn’t care if it were he or someone else who went with her. No wonder he hesitated. What if he said ‘no thanks’? Susan felt as if she had just made a complete fool of herself and kept staring at the road ahead.

Susan did not notice John’s smile and the curious look he gave her. How did she know he liked cabaret? And, somehow, the major seemed a little unsettled today, which was a rather unusual characteristic for his aide. John enjoyed tantalizing Susan for a few seconds longer before he answered, Major Brewer, it would be my pleasure.

Endlessly relieved, Susan beamed at him and could only say, Really, sir?

Yes, really. But if you want to keep your date, Susan, you better look at the road, John reminded her.

Yes, sir. Of course, sir.

Chapter 2

Bukake And Bonobos

It was a Saturday, and it was still morning in Washington when John called. Claire was relieved to hear her husband was back in Paris, safe and sound, and that his first diplomatic mission had been a success. In return, Claire told John about the things going on at home. Erin and Jaidee were doing fine, and it might be still another week before one of them would be going into labor, while Shirley and Maria were helping Patrick and Daniel on those days Claire had her hospital shifts. Also, Alice and Ann would have offered to lend a hand should it get tight, and with everyone pitching in, they would have no problem keeping The Wild Side Café open from 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. every day and still could give two yoga classes a week.

Even Jacques is doing what he can, supplying us with coffee and tea and baking cakes and pastries. By now, his special weed-butter cookies have become a hit, and his famous tiramisu goes faster than he can make it. To be honest, without Jacques, we wouldn’t have such a full house, Claire said.

And how is Nick doing? John wanted to know.

Funny you ask. Something strange happened this morning. Nick came to The Wild Side to drop off Jaidee and then left with Jacques without telling anyone where they were going, Claire said and saw John smiling. But seems you know.

In fact, I do. Nick is taking Jacques to the shooting range. I suggested to them they do some guys’ stuff together. Usually, two people just need to find some common ground to be able to look beyond their differences. That’s basically what I told the Russians too. Both sides have to make concessions and meet halfway. In Nick’s case, if you guys expect him to adjust to your way of thinking, he will be more receptive if you were to try to understand how he is wired. At the academy, they’re filling your brain with a lot of stuff, most of it useful, but as you find out later in life, some of it is utter nonsense. My son still needs help to sort out what is what, and Jacques just happens to be the right man for the job, John explained his motives.

I see. To get Nick to participate in our massage sessions, one has to go to the shooting range first and become brothers in arms with him, Claire remarked jokingly.

Exactly, John replied and suggested, To get Nick to do yoga with you, you may let him teach you some self-defense first. Nick likes boxing, used to do that in school already, but he also has a neck for martial arts, and some training in this regard might benefit all of you.

After five years living on a lonely island with a military analyst, Claire knew how her husband’s mind worked and picked up on John’s idea right away. Do you think Nick would like to give self-defense lessons in The Wild Side, not only to us, but also to others? I was thinking of a few women who might be interested.

If that suggestion came from Jacques, and if you had Shirley and Maria join too, I can’t imagine Nick would be able to say no to showing a few tricks of his own to a bunch of attractive women in yoga outfits.

A grin appeared on Claire’s face. You sly fox. Why do I have the feeling that the whole thing will not come one bit as a surprise to Jacques? You two have already discussed that, right?

Of course, John admitted. But, Claire, please leave that to Jacques, okay?

Gladly. Don’t worry; I’ve currently enough other things to worry about.

I can imagine. Tonight is the big night, John remarked. Are you excited already?

It’s more of a big test for the team; our first official event. Oh, by the way, did I tell you that we have a change of plan? Since Jacques has to help us with The Wild Side, Ernesto has taken over his part. He will be performing with Shirley tonight. The two were practicing for days already. Ernesto had watched Jacques doing it, so Jacques had him try, and Ernesto had picked up the whole rope bondage thing so quickly that Elinore had decided to let him do it. You should see them, John. They’re top-notch. You’ll be missing a fantastic show.

Although John would have enjoyed seeing Shirley and Ernesto’s performance, he could not ask Claire to send him a video file over the Internet. It was too risky, and besides that, it would have violated House Villekulla’s privacy policy. As it was not supposed to be, John could only wish Claire to have fun for the both of them.

Luckily, after a full workday in The Wild Side, there was not much expected of Claire except for watching and learning from Elinore, and that comfortably stretched out on the couch in the lounge. As often as Elinore had done it, she could handle Mr. Harimato and his group of five junior managers very well on her own, and these guests, in particular, resembled no challenge. Mr. Harimato was a cultured man, traditionally rooted, and he would have been deeply embarrassed if one of his associates had offended their host by displaying bad manners.

This kind of gathering had required little preparation from House Villekulla’s side. They only had to provide the venue, entertainment, drinks, and Japanese food, which Mr. Harimato’s own cook was preparing for them right at the table. Maria, meanwhile, served their guests sake and beer. She looked magnificent in her white silk kimono and, at first glimpse, could be indeed mistaken for one of the Japanese women that were joining the gentlemen for dinner.

The five women, all between mid-twenty and thirty, made polite conversation, smiled a lot, and coyly giggled about every flirtatious remark or compliment they received. Despite their seemingly modest, almost innocent mannerism, they were prostitutes Mr. Harimato had hired, but of a special breed. These women represented a 21st-century form of Geisha, trained to entertain men in many ways other than just sexually, and their favors had to be gained first. The women were the reward for his men, who had to show discipline and obedience to prove themselves worthy of Mr. Harimato’s trust and generosity.

As the dinner came to an end, stagefright caught up with Ernesto and Shirley waiting behind the door to the gallery for their entry. You’re on in three, Claire let them know. From upstairs, she could see what went on down in the hall and just waited for the signal from Elinore.

As host, Elinore sat next to Mr. Harimato, entertaining him with her company. And now, I have something extraordinary for you, she announced, which was the ‘go’ for Shirley and Ernesto, who appeared on the gallery.

With her hands tied behind her back, Shirley came down the stairs, driven on by Ernesto, who hit her butt with a bamboo stick. Shirley was dressed in a kimono too. With her hair put up in a bun, it made her appear somewhat Asian from afar.

Wearing military-style pants and shirt, and with his short haircut, Ernesto looked much more like a soldier than Jacques would have with his dreadlocks. Ernesto was glad he did not have to say much and used mainly gestures and his stick. On the stage, Ernesto had Shirley kneel down, mere five yards away from their audience. Except for the Japanese music playing softly in the background, it all went on in eerie silence. Her initial defiance ceased after her bound hands were tied to an iron ring hanging on a big chain from the ceiling. There was no getting away anymore. All she could do now was submit to her fate.

After Ernesto bound and suspended Shirley, he started exposing and torturing her body with his bamboo stick and candle wax. To a certain degree, there was some real pain involved when he let the hot wax drip onto her nipples and the inside of her thighs. Each time, she gasped loudly and squirmed, very much to the delight of Mr. Harimato, who got more and more excited by what he saw.

Shirley seemed indeed thankful when the excruciating part was over and the bamboo stick, instead of hitting her anew, was beginning to tease her exposed vulva. It was just to give her a taste of what was to come next. By the time Ernesto ravished his booty in front of their audience, making it look almost cruel, Claire could tell that Shirley’s arousal was genuine, and the two delivered a solid show of vigor and passion. From Claire’s perspective, it had been a flawless performance, which even left her aroused afterward.

Mr. Harimato seemed to be of the same opinion. This was superb. You have outdone yourself once more, he complimented his host. Please forgive me my curiosity, but where do you find such excellent performers?

With a charming laugh, Elinore had her two stars step closer to the table. Allow me to introduce my daughter Shirley and her partner Ernesto.

I should have noticed the resemblance, Mr. Harimato said and gallantly shook Shirley’s hand. With such talented new blood, I’m not worried about the future of House Villekulla, he added.

Mr. Harimato’s recommendation would mean business, and Elinore thanked him. She was sure as a nawa shibari enthusiast, Harimato would spread the word among all his wealthy friends who shared his taste for watching a thrilling live-sex performance.

For Mr. Harimato himself, the performance had been merely the appetizer for his true desires, namely to see a still untouched young woman defiled for real. To that end, Jacques led a timid 19-year-old girl through a secret hallway to a hidden door in the rear of the Bukake Room. While the men in the hall had more sake and beer, he had the young woman enter and showed her the big chair made from transparent acryl. Will you be alright? Jacques asked.

A wary nod was the answer. Fumiko knew what was expected of her. After she had signed the agreement, there was no going back anymore. It all was part of the deal Mr. Harimato had offered her. In return, he had promised to take care of her family’s debt and spare her parents losing their restaurant, which was all they had. Fumiko knew Mr. Harimato since her childhood. He had come often to eat at their place and had always been kind to her. Fumiko had no reason to doubt the word of an honorable man.

Although her parents were Japanese, Fumiko herself had never been to Japan. Having grown up in America, she did not share her parents’ concept of dishonor. On the other hand, Fumiko was fully aware that her disgrace would bring shame to the family, and this was why Mr. Harimato could be sure she would rather kill herself before ever telling anyone about it.

Elinore had warned them they would be unfit for the job if they started second-guessing what they were doing. They were no moralizers she had said, and Claire had to remind herself of it, seeing Fumiko waiting for the men in the Bukake Room. She’s ready, Claire let Elinore know.

For Mr. Harimato, it was the highlight of the evening. For years, since she had been a young girl, he had an eye on Fumiko already. He had seen her grow up, blossoming to an alluring young woman. Whenever she had been waitressing the tables, Fumiko used to wear tight jeans or leggings like most teenage girls. She did not want to hide her lovely slender figure, much to the dismay of her parents, who noticed how men looked at their daughter. Together with her innocence, Fumiko’s youth and beauty had made her irresistible. And now, she was standing in front of him, dressed in a kimono, greeting him with a deep bow.

So, you indeed have come, remarked Mr. Harimato, as if he still could not believe she had kept her word. You’re a brave girl, Fumiko. Don’t be afraid. Nobody is going to hurt you. These gentlemen and I have the utmost respect for you, Harimato assured her, pointed at the floor, and said, Please, kneel down.

Harimato waited until Fumiko had followed his wish and was kneeling in front of him with lowered gaze. Gentlemen, if you like to step closer, he invited his men. And remember, no one touches her, Harimato reminded them once more before pulling down the zipper of his pants.

Following Harimato’s example, the men surrounded the virgin girl and presented their male organs to her. Fumiko seemed neither appalled nor disgusted at the sight when she bent forward and gingerly picked up Mr. Harimato’s flabby manhood with her lips. To Claire, watching the scene on the big screen upstairs, it was evident that the girl was doing it for the first time. Nonetheless, she apparently knew what to do, and once she began sucking on Harimato’s penis, it quickly grew until it got too big to fully fit into her mouth anymore.

After Shirley and Ernesto’s hot performance had been arousing already, watching the girl moving on from one man to the next to suck all of them turned Claire on. The moment she gave in to the urge and let her fingers slide into her loose jogging pants, the door opened. It was just Jacques. Claire did not care if he saw what she was doing and left her hand where it was. Anyway, Jacques did not pay much attention to her and headed straight for the fridge behind the bar to get himself a beer. After Jacques had picked up the girl from the subway station, his job was pretty much done for tonight, and he finally could put his feet up. How did it go? Claire asked.

She was already waiting for me. Is a little shy. Didn’t talk much on the way, and when I handed her the agreement, she just signed it without a word. Did you know that Harimato is paying more than a hundred fifty thousand credits for her?

I guess he can afford it, Claire replied and wanted to know, What’s her name actually?

Fumiko, Jacques answered and sat down on the couch next to Claire. Jacques ignored Claire’s doing and first took a thirsty sip of his beer before he continued, That’s not all. If she’s performing to Harimato’s satisfaction tonight, she’s offered a contract as his personal assistant, which is basically the only plausible way for her to explain to her parents where the money is coming from. But don’t feel bad for her. It is what it is nowadays. You got to take your chances. And believe me, this girl knows exactly what she wants. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have come.

Together, they watched on in silence. Fumiko was almost through the round when Claire remarked, I don’t know if I would have had the guts to do that. If I imagine I had to do it with six men for my first time ever, it would probably scare the hell out of me.

I’m sure she’s scared too, Jacques said. But if you had to choose between losing your virginity or your livelihood, you’ve done the same, and once you’ve made up your mind, you figure you might as well enjoy it. After all, you’re not brutally raped. On the contrary, you heard Harimato; they have to show her respect.

Hard to say if I would have done the same, let alone if I’d enjoyed it. I’m just glad I never had to make that decision.

Lucky you, that your path has crossed John’s, Jacques replied. Just picture for a moment you two wouldn’t have met; how your life in New Orleans might have looked like.

Oh, I have a pretty good idea, Claire said. Makes me wonder, though, if there is such a thing as destiny or fate. If the plane had not crashed, I had never met John. And if I’d been so lucky to survive the pandemic, I most likely would be living with the rest of my family at the poverty line now. Without having finished school, I wouldn’t have a job, like most people my age, and as naïve as I once was, I would have become easy game for every Billy Burovsky in my neighborhood. In short, my life would be merely a small step above suburbia, and I’d very much like to believe that this other Me might have found it in herself somehow to get out of there before life consisted only of popping out kid after kid, just to scrape by on government breeding benefits. From this point of view, I can very well sympathize with Fumiko. As John has been for me, Harimato is her ticket out now. Maybe you are right, and all it comes down to is just being lucky and taking your chances, Claire granted and added, Strange how things can turn out sometimes.

Jacques chuckled and could only agree with Claire. Tell me about it. I wouldn’t be here if my father had not been Tessa’s stepfather, and Tessa wouldn’t be the one she is today if she had not married Ibrahim. I believe the only difference between fate and destiny is, fate comes to you, while destiny is where you decide to go, and that depends on what you’re willing to do to get there.

It was an interesting thought Jacques had there, and this was what Claire enjoyed so much about his company. Jacques was friend, lover, confidant, colleague, and when needed a therapist. They could have passionate sex as well as a philosophical conversation. There was no pressure, no pretending, and no primness. Claire could caress herself next to him without having to feel one bit awkward about it.

After each of the men got to feel Fumiko’s mouth, Mr. Harimato had her rise again and told her, Please, undress and sit down in the chair, and then, I’d like you to pleasure yourself as you would usually do it. Try to imagine you would be alone at home. Do you wish to use any toys? Harimato asked, sounding almost fatherly. Fumiko blushed and shyly shook her head. I thought so. Not a decent girl like you, Harimato said with a smile before he made himself comfortable on the bench closest to the chair.

Now it’s getting exciting, Jacques remarked when Fumiko stripped her clothes and exposed her small round breasts. Do you know how to operate all the cameras in the room? Jacques asked and was about to reach for the laptop on the table when he received a slap on the hand.

Fingers off! I’m doing that, Claire insisted.

Jacques grinned. Just wanted to help. I thought you were currently too busy playing with your pussy.

I don’t need your help, Claire assured him, but a moment later realized that Jacques had a point there. To make the necessary keystrokes to bring more cameras onto the big screen and be able to zoom in on the exciting parts, she inevitably had to take her hand out of her pants.

Jacques noticed how Claire’s fingertips left moist marks on the keys. While you’re doing that, maybe in the meantime, do you want me to continue down there for you? he offered and, just to tease her, let his hand slide between Claire’s legs.

Please, Jacques, not now! she told him off, angled up her leg, and pushed the heel of her foot into her crotch.

Jacques could not be fooled. Whenever Claire sat like this, it might have seemed customary for someone with her flexibility, but her heel was purposefully placed so that it would press against her clit, and while her hands were busy above the table, below she continued stimulating herself with her foot. It looked a little awkward though. Oh, come on, Claire, let me feel your pussy. I just want to see how wet you are, Jacques persisted and made another attempt.

Pretty wet, Claire confessed. And now, you can take your hand away again. I have to work, she reminded him and added, After all, someone here has to look out for that girl.

With a smirk, Jacques withdrew his hand. If Claire did not even allow him to touch her anymore, she must have been pretty horny already. He knew Claire wanted sex badly, but then again, she did not want to appear too eager either. It was somewhat of a game she liked to play, a kind of challenge between them to see who had more self-restraint. Okay, Jacques said, leaned back, and could not help mocking Claire, Let’s keep an eye on that poor little thing together then. Elinore will be pleased to know how diligent we are.

You can make as much fun of me as you want to. I’m entrusted with this, and I don’t want to screw up right the first time, Claire replied while she waited for the moment Fumiko had taken her seat. Then, with a few keystrokes on the laptop, Claire turned off all the lights in the Bukake Room, except for a soft illumination coming directly from above and the chair itself. While the men could see everything, for Fumiko, her audience was suddenly hidden behind a wall of darkness that gave her indeed a sense of being alone in the room. In addition, several small cameras built into the chair offered close-ups, which Claire again projected onto the white wall behind Fumiko for the men to watch.

After she had made herself comfortable on the chair, Fumiko hesitantly opened her legs. It was obvious she felt awkward having to do that in front of others. As Fumiko slowly began to caress herself and spread her slim legs a little further, the camera in the middle of the seat caught some bare skin. When an enlarged view appeared on the wall, Mr. Harimato was surprised to see Fumiko was shaving beneath her bush, which she most likely kept only for decorum as he figured, and for that reason alone wanted to see her thick black pubic hair drenched in cum tonight.

Jacques noticed it too, and remarked, The girl has a cute little nookie.

Nookie? Are we having our Rasta-day today? Claire asked with a smirk.

We all have our origin, sista. And you’re singing Irish ballades in some weird language no one understands, Jacques reminded her. Anyway, how do you want me to call it, vagina? Nookie, punani, or honey jar sounds much nicer than pussy or cunt.

You got a point there, Claire conceded before she wanted to know, And what do you find so cute about her nookie? Is it because you rarely get to see a woman with pubic hair anymore? Or is it the enticing pink color of her labia that on an instinctive level is signaling to males her readiness to mate, or could it be her vaginal entrance looks somewhat small and innocent that this appeals to you in some way?

Jacques looked at Claire in puzzlement. I don’t know. All I’m saying is she has a cute nookie.

Please, Jacques, it’s a serious question. I’d like to know what a man finds attractive about a woman’s sex. If you compare the looks of her genitals, let’s say, to mine, Aurora’s, or Shirley’s, what makes the difference esthetically?

Really, Claire, you can ask questions, Jacques said with a sigh and had to think about that for a moment. There is no difference, not esthetically, he replied. As far as I’m aware of, I don’t have any preferences. You all have some sweet honeys, and I like that all of you look different. This is what makes each of you so unique. And honestly, I wouldn’t mind cock it up with this maga cutie, Jacques admitted frankly and added, I like Asian girls.

Is that why you have an eye on Jaidee?

At first. But now, it’s more than just sexual attraction. I like Jaidee’s free spirit, her smile, and how easygoing she is; if she’s not moody that is.

Did you talk about that with Nick at the shooting range today?

It did not surprise Jacques that Claire knew where he and Nick had spent the day. John must have told you, he remarked before answering Claire’s question. No, Jaidee didn’t come up. Anyway, there isn’t much to talk about it. Nick knows I’m attracted to his wife. But he also knows I like to see them both happy, and I told him already that I have no intentions to make any advances. And since Nick has to go back to West Point in September, he got to trust me on that one. If he can trust his wife, though, is a different question, Jacques added.

What makes you say that? Why should Jaidee want to cheat on Nick?

She doesn’t want to cheat on him. That’s the whole point. What she wants is a monogamish relationship that allows her to make some occasional sexual experiences outside her marriage, and such curiosity is just natural. See, there are two sides in each of us, the rational, socially-conditioned part that makes us seek intimacy and love with one person only, and then there is the other one most people are ashamed of, our primeval urge to mate with as many partners as possible to diversify the gene pool, Jacques explained, which in return, earned him a skeptical look.

Your theory might be more applicable to men, Claire said. As one of those on the receiving end, though, I have no desire to have a bunch of kids from half-a-dozen men, just to diversify the gene pool.

Of course not. With billions of people on this planet, it is a totally different story. But just a hundred thousand years ago, our sex drive was what made our species thrive. While we migrated to all corners of the world, we seemed to have bred with everyone on the way who just looked remotely like us and, cuddled up under the furs, our wild ancestors picked up all those genes that make people look so diverse today. And, although we don’t live in small isolated groups any longer and officially promote monogamy, this survival instinct is still with us, just in case it’s needed again, Jacques explained.

And you really believe that?

I got that from a scientific article Maria forwarded to me.

Maria?

Yes, Maria. What’s so unusual about that? She reads all these things about anthropology and psychology, and whenever she finds something interesting, she sends me the link.

I didn’t know Maria is interested in these things, Claire remarked.

Maybe you should spend more time with her, Jacques suggested. You would be surprised how much she knows about all kinds of stuff.

No doubt, she is smart. John said already, with Maria, he can have a conversation, which is quite the compliment, coming from him, Claire replied before getting back to the article. It is known for years that early humans have interbred more frequently than previously thought. The only thing I have a problem with is calling it survival instinct, since no intelligent species engages in sex just instinctively. Especially women pick and choose their mate for a variety of other reasons than just getting pregnant. I’d rather ascribe our sexual behavior to hormones, which I’m sure must have played a role some hundred thousand years ago too.

The article didn’t say we acted instinctively, only that we knew from very early on that it was essential to have sex with others whenever we encountered them to refresh the gene pool within a group, which back then, consisted of only a few inbreeding families that relied on the influx for survival. In any case, no matter if we’ve known this from observation, out of instinct, or if it had been hormones driving us, women actively took part in it. Or do you really think that all women had to be raped? If you want to admit it or not, our primate brains are wired for procreation. In fact, our species is still obsessed with sex. Add to our suppressed primal instincts the cognitive ability to imagine, and you know where all your sexual fantasies and desires come from. You only have to look at that girl, Jacques said and motioned at the screen. She might be insecure and frightened, but I bet, down below between her legs, she’s already curious about their dicks and can hardly wait to get fucked. Why? Because in secret, her brain has already explored countless times, all sorts of scenarios how it would happen.

I may have had plenty of strange fantasies myself already, but those had been just fantasies, Claire replied.

Yes, but not all of them have remained fantasies, Jacques reminded her. Claire, you cannot entirely exclude the possibility that this young woman might have thought about having sex with several men long before Harimato even had made her the offer. Maybe she had seen it in a porn movie before and got totally turned on by it, you don’t know. Of course, being a virgin, she would hardly admit to having such desires, not even to herself.

You’re making assumptions. Not all women are the same, Claire said in lack of a better argument.

True, but trust me, this girl is some naughty one.

Claire had to laugh. This is ridiculous. How do you want to know that?

Watch, and you’ll see, Jacques answered with the calm of someone who was sure beyond any doubt.

Once Fumiko had aroused herself up to a point when reaching deliverance was all that mattered, she was indeed good for a surprise. Mr. Harimato could not believe he saw this usually shy girl pushing two fingers deep into her virgin fold, and as she withdrew them again, Fumiko’s fingers were covered in the slick sap of her sanctum.

Claire zoomed in on Fumiko’s crotch where her fingers seemed to be going into overdrive. Harimato was the first one to step into the light, completely undressed, and once more offered Fumiko his penis to suck on. Shortly after, another man appeared, and Mr. Harimato had Fumiko continue on him. Soon, all of them stood around the chair, and one man after the other was stuffing Fumiko his manhood into her mouth.

What had made Fumiko feel awkward just a few minutes ago, seeing six men masturbating for her now seemed to stir her desires beyond all fears when Mr. Harimato pushed her legs apart, and as the first man ever, penetrated her innocence, deflowering her with the first push regardless of her loud gasp as he entered her fully.

Now, watch! Jacques said, As soon as she’s over the pain, one after the other can fuck her, and you won’t hear her complaining.

Indeed, what they got to hear soon were moans and squeaks of lust after Fumiko seemed to have completely surrendered herself to Mr. Harimato’s vigor. Motionlessly, she lay on the chair with widespread legs and let Harimato ram his hard-swollen organ into her until he withdrew, ejaculated onto Fumiko’s pubis, and rubbed his cum into her bushy black hair with his dick.

Fumiko just remained the way she was and said no word when the next man took Harimato’s place. Fumiko had been told it would be a kind of ritual she would be participating in, a test, not intended for her but for Harimato’s men. By having them all together bloodying their manhood on a virgin’s desecrated sex and sullying her young body with their semen, they carried out a symbolic act that was supposed to unite them. Except for Harimato, all of the men were married, and while a shared secret would guarantee everyone’s discretion and loyalty to him, Fumiko could only take Mr. Harimato’s word for it that none of them would ever speak of it.

Didn’t I tell you? Now she’s gotten the hang of it and doesn’t care anymore how many men stick it to her. She just closes her eyes and enjoys the ride, Jacques said.

"I doubt she enjoys just laying there and having to spread her legs so that everyone can ‘stick it to her.’ I can understand that you feel sexually attracted to her. But honestly, if you were one of those men, would this be fun for you?

Depends, Jacques replied.

On what?

The setting, and if it’s just the raw fucking she wants. I guess you’ve never heard of any Gang-Bang Championship where porn stars compete against one another. The current record still stands at over 900 guys in 12 hours.

Claire refused to believe that. You’re telling me a woman had sex with 900 men in 12 hours? Alone mathematically, this would be impossible.

I forgot what her name was, but you can look it up, Jacques suggested, which Claire promptly did and only a few seconds later, looked at the name and picture of the record holder. There was also a list of the other contestants, and the numbers were mindboggling; 869, 792, 714… It still was hard to imagine that one woman could have sex with 919 men, and that in 12 hours, which perhaps was 100 times more than most women slept with during their entire life. Do you believe me now? Jacques asked.

But it says here the average duration with each man was only 13.5 seconds, Claire remarked.

If it takes 13 seconds or five minutes, what does it matter? The point is that all these men stuck their dicks into her pussy, and more importantly, she wanted it. So, there are women like that.

Yes, porn stars, conceded Claire.

Yeah, just look at our little Japanese princess here, and you see a porn star in the making. Come on, Claire, admit it; women like fucking as much as men, and many of them fantasize about being taken by man after man. And I bet you’re no exception. Imagine yourself being tied up, blindfolded, and suspended. Since you can’t see the men, you don’t know who the guy is that’s penetrating you next, how he looks like, how old he is, all you can feel is his cock slamming into your cum-drenched pussy. And while you’re helplessly hanging there, their dicks keep on coming, short ones, long ones, thin and big ones. Don’t tell me that this doesn’t turn you on, at least somewhat?

Even if it did, it doesn’t mean I would want every Tom, Dick, and Harry sticking his penis into me. In this point, men and women are different, and that’s why gang-banging is such a typical male thing.

Jacques had to laugh and asked, And what do you call it then when a bunch of women gangs up on a guy and is hopping happily, one after the other, onto his dick in the Dark Room, Stich n’ Bitch?

You can’t compare that. After all, none of us has been a stranger to John, and then, it was definitely fun for him too.

Of course, it was. But that’s beside the point. You women have created on purpose a situation in which you all together could live out one of your secret fantasies. Don’t get me wrong; I’m the last blaming you, but it proves that men and women are not any different, as much as you might like to believe. The veneer of what we think has made us evolve above apes is so thin, you just got to rub a little, and we all revert to bonobos, Jacques said, which made Claire laugh.

Her laughter was shaking the heel in her crotch. It reminded Claire that despite all the talking, she was still as aroused as before, and although Jacques must have been aware of it, he had not made another attempt yet to get between her legs. Instead, his eyes seemed glued to the screen, and it made Claire wonder if Jacques would rather stick it to the Asian girl than her. To find out, she asked bluntly, Is she giving you a hard-on?

Ya man, for quite a while already. Why do you want to know? Are we having a change of heart?

What change of heart?

Maybe you need a cock after all and just want to check if you could hop on.

You wish.

Let’s say I’d be up for it, anytime you want, sista, Jacques replied before teasing her again, Oh, I forgot, you don’t have any time. You have to work.

You’re assuming again. Who says I even want to have sex with you right now?

Of course you do. Don’t deny it. You can hardly think of anything else since I came through the door. I bet your nookie is so dripping wet by now, if I’d show you my wood, what do you think happens, you’d jump right on it.

We both could sit here naked, and nothing would happen, Claire assured him.

Okay, why don’t you take your clothes off then? I take mine off, and then, we will see, Jacques suggested and began to unbutton his shirt.

Before Jacques even had his shirt off, Claire was out of her t-shirt, had pulled down her jogging pants, and sat down again. Staring at the computer screen, Claire pretended to ignore him. A moment later, though, Claire could not help but look up when instead of sitting down, Jacques walked over to the bar to grab another beer, wagging provocatively with his pleasure pole.

As Jacques returned to the couch, he saw Claire’s jogging pants lying on the floor. He picked her pants up to put them on the chair when he noticed the wet spot her oozing juices had left where her heel had pressed the cotton into her fold. Oh, man, your honey must be dripping, sista, Jacques remarked and asked, Are you sure you don’t want to have that nasty leak plugged before it gets so slippery that you’re sliding off the couch?

Are you trying to help again?

With a grin on his face, Jacques sat down and answered, I’m just concerned about stains you might leave on my couch,

Oh, for a moment there, I thought you were trying to find an indoor parking spot for your hot rod, Claire countered and had to force herself not to look at Jacques’ throbbing phallus that rose alluringly from his lap like bait.

You don’t have a parking spot, Jacques replied. Right now, you’ve got a car wash, ready to soak, rinse, and polish, as soon as I drive in. Anyway, you couldn’t handle having my exciting hot rod parked in your underground garage without taking it for a ride. Well, and we both know what happens then. Once you’re off to the lands of bliss and blithe, our guests in the Bukake Room will be left standing in the dark.

Claire was just too predictable. Of course, she had to prove him wrong and said, Apparently, it’s you who can’t handle things here, since you’re trying everything to make me jump your dick. I’ve got news for you, Mr. Bonobo. As much as you may like to believe it, that exciting hot rod of yours is not quite long enough to reach all the way up to my brain. If you keep the engine off and the breaks on, nobody is going anywhere. Now, of course, you want me to show you, right?

Let me put it this way; it’s a bold claim, and honestly, I don’t give you more than five minutes, and you’re riding off into the sunset.

I’m not; wanna bet? Claire accepted the challenge and stood up so that Jacques could move over to where she had been sitting. Claire positioned her needy nookie over the tip of Jacques’ pleasure pole, and slowly lowering herself onto his lap, warned him, But no fumbling or such things, or it will be your fault if I forget to turn the lights back on.

Don’t worry; I’m not doing anything. I’m just drinking my beer, Jacques assured her.

Since their guests were still at it, there was not much to do for Claire. Feeling Jacques’ knobby phallus deep inside of her, of course, she could not sit still and, just slightly at first, began to move. It was by no means fast and reminded instead of what they used to do in Kama Sutra class, merely enjoying the union. Only, as Jacques had predicted, it did not stay at that. Animated by what Claire saw on the screen, her soft ups-and-downs slowly picked up speed.

Downstairs in the Bukake Room, Fumiko was still spreading her legs, offering her ravished sanctum to the next man. By now, the moans of earlier had turned into constant high-pitched little squeals. Her body glistened already from the ejaculate of several men. Like in a trance, Fumiko herself was spreading it with her hands all over her abdomen and breasts. Is that the fourth or fifth man already? Jacques asked since Claire’s back was hampering his view.

I think there are still two more, Claire said and leaned back on Jacques so he could see what went on.

Jacques noticed that Claire’s fingers were back at rubbing her clit and remarked, You might not be keen on trading places with Fumiko, but it obviously still turns you on seeing her getting it from half a dozen men. Tell me, if you could have sex with as many men as you want to, and you could pick any man you wished, who would you choose? Jacques asked.

Besides you and John? That’s a good question. I don’t know. Ernesto perhaps; I guess Shirley wouldn’t mind if I borrowed him.

Okay, we got Ernesto. Who else? It can be any man, Jacques reminded her.

Maybe Hendric, from our Kama Sutra class, he’s a bit older already, but there at least, I know what I get.

A nice big cock, Jacques said. Alright, let’s add Hendric’s horse-cock to the list. Anyone else, someone you might remember from school, a guy you had a crush on and that gave you wet panties? Or at university, I can imagine you must come across some good-looking studs there.

No, there wasn’t any guy at my school that would have given me wet panties, Claire answered with a chuckle. And on campus, I may encounter some handsome specimen now and then, but to tell you the truth, I’m not one bit interested in having sex with any other men. I guess I’m just too spoiled and got some high demands, Claire added.

I take that as a compliment, Jacques replied before he asked, I know it might sound funny, but what about Nick?

Nick? Oh, God, what makes you think I would want to have sex with him? Claire asked, puzzled how Jacques could even suggest that.

I would have never mentioned it to John, but since you two want to have children, I was wondering if you had ever considered that. After all, a child from Nick would come closest to one from John himself, Jacques explained.

"No, having a child from his son hasn’t even occurred to me yet, and I guess neither to John. Nick may look like the younger version of John, but besides that has little in common with his father. And to be honest, the longer I think about it, the idea doesn’t get any more appealing either. Just imagine what Jaidee would say to that. First, she hears I’m sleeping