Advent Calendar For Reverse Harem Readers
RIO
Just as I think he’s late, the front doors at the far end open and in spills money in tailored suits; Jack Crawford, the news mogul overdue for retirement, swaddles in belly first, face creased and confident, and a trail of twelve men who orbit his gravity. They don’t head for the bar. They cut straight for the west corridor and the etched letters above the double doors – Black Chamber. It’s from where they always watch his latest documentary.
I’m already moving. “Brox,” I say into my cell, eyes tracking Jack’s shoulders through the crowd. “Our high roller just walked in with his party.”
“On him,” Brox answers. “Room One. Cinema set up.”
I cut down the side stairs, skirt the edge of the floor, and step into the corridor before they do.
“Mr. Crawford,” Brox shakes Jack’s hand at the threshold. “Room One is ready. Screen is queued to your latest production.”
Jack smiles the way only men who never hear no do. “Thank you. Let’s see what we’ve made.”
They disappear inside as I make my way to the bar. My cell buzzes in my palm one beat later.
Brox: Settled. They’re waiting for drinks and girls.
I pocket the cell and catch Diego at the bar, already piling a silver tray with tumblers and bottles.
“Two girls,” I tell him. “Maya and Noor.”
“Copy,” he says, then he looks past me. “Lana, grab this set for Room One.”
I pivot. Lana is already there, hands out. For a second, the world slows the way a fight does right before the punch. The tray lands on her palms, she centers it with a tiny shift of her wrist, and I’m so close to yanking it back. I don’t. I force myself to remember, I don’t make scenes in front of my own staff. I just warn them.
“Diego.” I look at him, black daggers would slice him up if my eyes were weapons.
Diego reads my face and immediately turns around and yells. “Noor. Maya!”
They appear instantly from the changing room, rushing to serve the drinks. They know what they’re doing.
My cell buzzes again. It’s Brox: Make sure you send Lana.
The fucker.
Diego pulls the tray from Lana’s hands and gives it to Noor. “Room One,” he says to her. Both Noor and Maya walk off without a thought, while Lana’s eyes flick up to mine, then to Diego, clear, wondering what just happened.
“You got drinks for me, Diego?”
Why did he have to underline her name? For fuck’s sake!
Diego looks at me, and I wish I didn’t nod at him. But of course, I do. I’m not going to make any girl special in my kingdom. That’s how mutiny happens. They’re all here to serve us.
“Here, take this.” He puts ten glasses on her tray and four bottles of water. “They’ll be thirsty later.”
Lana moves into the corridor and the dress moves with her, obedient too. I follow far enough to be a shadow.
Room One is set in an old-style cinema. Stepped rows of leather seats that do not recline. A screen that’s as big as the wall. A projection booth behind smoked glass, which we often use as an observing platform. No cup holders or side tables, because men like Jack want to pretend they’re back in time.
The lights are down as I enter the projector room. His produced documentary piece has already started playing and the men settle like boys at assembly.
Lana walks in with the tray, and upon seeing her, Jack lifts his chin. “Here,” he calls.
I don’t think she expected this to be a cinema, so she looks confused. She’s cute when she’s confused. By the time her eyesight adjusts and she’s seen Jack, a minute has passed. That’s enough for her eyes to go down to half-caste, her lips to suddenly look plumper, and partly open, and for her to start hurrying down the aisle, craving a touch.
“Gentlemen,” she breathes, the word sounding like it fits in her mouth. “Water?”
She doesn’t wait for them to respond. She enters each aisle, starting with the last one, which is empty. She leans down to serve them, from behind. Her breasts almost come out of her low plunge dress, as she offers each man an empty glass, which she then fills with water. Their eyes pop out, as each of their faces are stupidly close to her breasts. If they turn towards her, and some do, they could easily suck her nipples.
Once she finishes the last row, she goes down to the next, rubbing off of the knees of those that she already served, but now she’s serving the men below. No one dares to touch her, everyone’s waiting on Jack for the green light. That’s how he chooses his girls for the night. And Jack is sitting at the front, the last one to be served.
She’s sensitive tonight, I can tell by the way she shuffles between the men, making her skater’s dress ride up high as she bends down, by the way she keeps her breathing measured like she’s countering nerves, or a body that refuses to be ignored.
She finally reaches Jack, and he can tell she’s on the verge of her abyss. He studies her over the rim of his glass. “You drink?” he asks, casually.
She glances at the other two girls, Maya and Noor, they have already slid into the laps of two men at the back and are now being groped by many while their eyes are trained on the screen. Lana looks around, she’s not sure if she should do it. But she must. Yes, that’s the whole point my little pet.
“Sure,” she says. “Mr. Boar said you’re a high roller. Maybe I’ll earn a tip.”
Jack laughs: the men around him laugh because he does. “Pour her something that isn’t cheap,” he tells no one and everyone.
She sits next to Jack, in the front row, and someone from behind passes her a glass, and another person pours the last few drops of the whisky they have.
Mila’s already up, carrying the tray back toward the bar, for more. Good girl. She knows. Noor follows.
I leave the projector room and move to the side door, taking the place where I can see the whole room and not be seen unless I want to be. I want to be. I step just enough into the wash of light that touches faces and the door hinges. If she looks up, she’ll find me.
The documentary rolls on, big names, maps swallowing borders, anchors speaking with certainty.
“Tell me if my little film makes me look smarter or just richer.” Jack strikes a conversation, but I see on her face, she just wants to suck his cock.
She hesitates for half a second, and tips herself into the seat. “I don’t know you,” she says softly. “You could be both.”
The men within earshot grin. Jack’s laugh turns pleased. “You’ve got a mouth on you.”
“Only when I’m asked to use it,” she answers, and her face doesn’t even twitch when she says it. I feel it, clean and sharp, my cock twitching. She’s not reckless. She knows her lines.
Jack places a hand on her leg, and smiles. “Let’s watch, sweetheart.”
The film continues but now, there are few hands from the men directly behind her, going down to under her plunge neckline dress. Lana is still, not moving, but absorbing every single sensation she gets.
Few more minutes, and now I see four hands on her bare thighs, one hooking under her panties as she’s sitting, and dipping inside her cunt. She moans, but quietly. She doesn’t want them to stop what they’re doing because everybody’s quiet and watching the show. Not being able to control herself, her head falls back, and she spreads her legs as much as she can, all the while sitting in her seat, and wearing her high heels. Looking like perfection.
The room’s attention shifts, one by one, from the screen to Lana. It’s not leering, it’s gravity. Men drift toward heat. Most are up and in front of her now, the one behind lean forward.
Jack unzips his pants, puts his hand on her head and gently guides her on his cock. “Come, let’s use your pretty little mouth. Show me what you can do with it.”
This is the moment Lana lived for in the last ten minutes. She takes him in and sucks him like a lollypop.
He presses her head down on him, but allows her to take over, enjoying her bobbing up and down, his face a bliss a sixty-year-old man could have in this situation. All the while everyone’s hands grope her as much as they can. They’ve taken off her panties, which I’m not happy about, but I’ve never stopped Jack and his buddies from doing what they want to do. And she is there to serve. Half of them have unzipped their pants and are waiting for her to finish off Jack before she turns to them.
“Superb, sweetheart,” He lifts her head up with both his hands, and makes her turn to the front, where seven or eight hard cocks are getting pumped in front of her face. “Now show them what your mouth can do.”
Her lips are wet, glossy, red, and her tongue out is exactly what they want.
The men closest to her sniggers and slaps her face, once, twice. “That’s a gooood girl.”
Fuck, I’m horny, I’m gonna cum just by watching them.
He tangles his hand in her head and thrusts roughly into her mouth a few times before he stills inside of her with a deafening groan.
“Yes, you’re doing great, honey,” Another man is now fucking her mouth, a few next to him patiently waiting for their turn by jerking. He pulls out and ejaculates in her mouth, and she swallows everything.
“Next!” he yells.
The men line up, fucking her mouth, cumming in her mouth, over her face, tits, her dress is ruined with cum. But fuck she is the prettiest woman I’ve seen in a long time. Cum suits her.
Everyone has had their turn fucking her mouth, groping her, and fingering her, and I know how desperately she needs a cock, but she needs mine. Or Brox’s. It’s psychological, really. She needs to be fucked by her providers.
Mila and Noor didn’t come back, Brox must have stopped them from coming.
Everyone’s finished with her, and they’re now dressing up, strengthening their pants, finishing their glasses of whisky, celebrating their production. Lana remains in her seat, her hands on her breast, playing with her nipples. Her mind, fuck knows where.
I stand in the doorway’s dim wash and let her see me. Just enough. Her head turns, as if her name were called. She finds me. I nod once and her shoulders loosen a fraction. Her smile is small, but I see the need she has, vast.
“That’s enough for now,” Jack announces. “I got what I came for.”
He stands, and the room does, too. The men gather their jackets, and their cells as Brox opens the door wide for them. He’s standing at the threshold, and I move to meet him. We become two points on a gate they pass through.
Jack catches my hand in both of his like we’ve been working the same angle for years. “This is service,” he says, and his voice carries for his men. “Privacy, pace, respect. You’re running a church, son.”
“Happy congregations, come back,” I tell him. “We aim for habit.”
He squeezes, leans in. “This one is my favorite so far.”
Of course she is.
One by one, his men file past, handshakes, nods, thanks. A couple of them squeeze Brox’s shoulder like he’s the one who delivered them from their sins. He doesn’t even bother to smirk. The door hushes shut on the last suit and the room exhales.
I look inside, Lana’s in her seat, but now she’s rubbing herself slowly. Brox is already striding towards her. I follow.
Lana looks up when our shadows break over her. The smile she gives me is small and happy, and a little dumbfounded.
“Stand up,” I tell her.
She does. I begin to unzip her dress and notice her melting under my touch. Brox is already at the side ensuite, pouring warm water into a jug. He takes two clean, soft clothes and passes one to me.
“You did well, princess.” I tell her and dip the cloth in the water.
Her eyes sparkle as I softly begin to wipe her face. Brox does the same, we’re taking care of what’s ours, just like looking after a pair of shoes. If you wear them in the evening, they’ll get all dirty and nasty from the use. Of course you’d clean them afterwards, you want to make sure you can use them again, and again.
“You kept them happy, for much longer that we thought you could.” Brox praises her as he’s rubbing her breasts clean.
Her eyes flicker up, from the praise, and probably from the sensations. “I tried to do my best.”
“Yes, sunshine, you were such a good girl for your Daddies.”
She deserves so much more than what we give her, and with that thought only I get carried away as I start cleaning between her legs. I cannot wait a moment longer without tasting her.
Brox reads me like a book. We make an easy perimeter, I’m in front of her, and Brox behind. I pinch her chin lightly. “You gonna let your Daddies take care of you now?”
She nods, glancing at both Brox and me.
“Good.”
Brox wraps his arm around her waist, “Lean on me, cupcake.”
I take one of her feet and put it on the armrest of the cinema chair. The high heels she wears are perverse, and standing like this, open for me, nothing can stop me from tasting heaven.
Besides, I want to see what mine tastes like.
I kneel, and start kissing her inner thigh, closing in on her cunt, as slow as I can possibly do. She’s leaned fully on Brox, and she moans as I slide my fingers inside her and rub her nub, repeating the motion, until she tightens around my fingers, and her legs buckle. “Daddy!” she cries.
Rush of cum dribbles out of her divine cunt, her hips jerk up into my hand as she rides the waves of pleasure. She feels so fucking good.
I lick my soaked fingers. Pure joy. This is what I’m talking about. She’s like a threshold I can’t stop crossing.
I see Brox unbuttoning his pants and freeing his cock. Fuck, if I were him, I’d be doing the same thing. He fists his hand around it and pumps a few times. Like a beacon, Lana’s hand flies behind her and her fingers wrap around him.
“You need your Daddies, is that right, Lana?” I blow on her cunt and inhale as she looks at me from above. Her plump rosy lips parted, glossy, her eyes lost, as Brox kisses her neck, lost in her scent.
“What do you say, hm?”
“P-please, Daddy.” She breathes.
That’s all I need. I press the flat of my tongue against her cunt, soaked with arousal, from right below her legs and lick up to her sweet nub. I thrust my tongue in, I lick, I pull, I bite, I suck, I’m devouring her as she’s flying, and that’s the idea.
That taste, that scent, she has been sent to us by fate. We’ve started collecting pets at The Boarpit so we’re not distracted by women, and have them at the snap of a finger, because our needs are different, and we know what we want. Legally or not. But we’ve never had anyone like Lana. She’s insatiable, she hasn’t stopped wanting. Like a goddess of sex, needy, waiting on me to thrust my tongue inside her, as horny as the first moment she entered the Black Chamber.
I pull back, and see Brox rubbing his cock on her cunt, dips in her arousal, and he starts to ease into her ass. This is my sigh to wake the fuck up and ram this whore like she deserves it. She was a good girl tonight, and good girls get fucked by their Daddies like whores.
I stand on my feet, unbutton in a maddening rush, freeing my cock fully out, and hook my arm under Lana’s lifted leg. I lift her up, and she wraps her other legs around my waist and her arms over my shoulders and on my back, clawing with her nails, pulling my body close to hers with urgency, and she moans again into my mouth. I devour her mouth as I fist my cock a few times
She’s wet and ready for me as I edge inside her, an inch at a time. I hear her moans, I know she wants me in one go, but Brox is here too. I lift her by the butt cheeks as Brox’s stretching her slowly already.
“Yeeees, my cumcake, Daddy’s fully inside.” He groans.
Her sweet cunt is so tight, she’ll make me cum before I want to, and judging by Brox’s sounds, he too has lost himself in her ass.
“Now this is how you make your Daddies happy,” I growl as I find my place inside her.
Brox and I start pounding her, lifting her up and impaling her on our cocks, fast, feral. Wordless grunts tear from all of our throats as we slam into her, each thrust is rolling into another. I want this to last forever. But too soon her grunts become staccato as we pace ourselves to her rhythm, although it’s too late. The way she’s milking me with her screams is my undoing. And I know Brox. His growling tells me he’s finished.
She unravels in my hands, and I release a loud, guttural groan as I empty my seed into her just as her cum gushes down my cock.
Brox is out of breath and finished. He gently pulls out, and sits on one of the chairs, while she remains in my hands, my cock still inside her. We’re out of breath, panting, and she’s grinning.
I’m completely smitten by her, but Brox’s clarity comes faster than mine when it comes to looking after our pets. He sees the water on the table and pours a few glasses for us.
“Drink,” he tells her. She does. Her throat tilts, her eyes close as she gulps every drop.
He takes a glass too and drops down on the chair as he finishes it.
Our eyes meet and for the first time, in a long time, I smile without being angry about something.
“Hungry?” Brox asks her.
She nods. “A little.”
“Kitchen,” I tell him. “Tell them to send up real food. No bar scraps. And get Sol to bring a dress in here. She needs clothes to leave this room.”
Brox moves to the door, and speaks to Sol. He’s outside Room One, one of his jobs is to always watch the door where we are. He knows the gig.
“Are you comfortable?” I ask her, knowing she is naked, and impaled on my cock. Which has gotten hard again.
Her cheeks go faintly pink. She grins and nods.
“We’ll get you sorted in a minute.”.
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