This Gender Reversed World Ain't for Me (47) - And Thus We Sink Deeper Into The Abominable Lanes Of Shame (Patreon)

"I'll be staying in Calista's room tonight." I let the words slide off my mouth with no hint of inflection or uncertainty, because that shit was for the weak-hearted. To deal with these birds, you must remain resolute. And there could be no contradictions. "We were working on our next song anyway, might as well keep doing that until it gets really late. So, please don't bother us."

Calista stood stiff like a ramrod behind the couch, frozen on the spot, probably with disbelief at my gall. The surprise rippled across everyone's faces. If I had to point-point one person, though, the person most affected would've definitely been Freya.

While the others appeared somewhat relieved, albeit grudgingly, I couldn't help but notice how Freya's brows slowly scrunched together as her lips curled into an uncertain frown. 

Her eyes roamed my face. But if she wanted to argue with me on it, she bit her tongue and kept her thoughts to herself.

Good.

Though, in all honesty, I second-guessed my decision as lying down with Freya and feeling her voluptuous body pressing against mine sounded absolutely heavenly, but I couldn't promise I'd contain this inc**tuous-behaving ass of mine.

I doubted she would mind my salacious inclinations and take me like a pit-snorting boar the moment an errant moan was ripped from my throat. But let's avoid that messy business.

"Ri... right."

Calista said after clearing her throat, giving my family one of her typical 'eyes rolling' stares. She didn't look me in the eyes, but merely glided over with an odd gaze.

"My room is big enough. And his presence won't make it feel any smaller."

Everyone else, apart from the eternally sulky-faced and smoldering Freya, seemed to have lightened up by that statement. And while the four birds nodded their heads like a pack of emus, they certainly seemed to share the same look of astonishment on their faces.

The fact that I'd choose Calista over any of them. Calista. Damien and Calista. It had an odd ring to it, like Bonnie and Clyde, or peanut butter and jelly. But did the great duo of legends meet an end filled with passionate love and a bloody, explosive kiss as they were cornered and mercilessly slaughtered by the agents of the establishment?

Hmm, I'm not sure if I'd characterize that as romantic, but I might be a bit too hung up on that aspect for the sake of rationalizing my behavior, no?

Well, regardless, with everyone now appeased by my apparent compromise, Calista and I excused ourselves to go back to her room.

The whole evening didn't feel real for a moment. I was glad Willow didn't give me the typical motherly 'I told you so...' after I scoffed at her idea of installing additional locks and security.

"You're way too calm for this..." Calista said, closing the door behind her. "Aren't you the least worried?"

"Do I look like I'm calm?"

"Yes."

She was, predictably, unimpressed.

"I guess I'm still wrapping my head around it." I said with a snort. "People usually have fan mail, not fan terror."

"......"

Calista stood there quite awkwardly, and I was reminded of that talk we had. Can you imagine? A world where a supermodel-level stunner had to sexually assault her own brother for an ounce of affection and validation.

What's up with that, God?

"I'm surprised you wanted to sleep here..." Calista added, turning her back to me as she busied herself with... whatever reason. Randomly looking for anything to occupy her hands."I mean, it was here that we—"

I looked at the bed where ritual had nearly been consummated. Oh. "Yeah, I figured."

She shot me a glance before giving her hair a quick tousle, as if the memory was still fresh. "So... so you're alright with that?"

"With what? Sleeping in your room?"

"Sleeping with me."

"I don't mind."

I gave a nonchalant shrug and smiled. In my defense, your honor, who would?

"You sure you don't want one of the others?" Calista insisted.

"Positive."

She sighed. "Are you sure you're gonna get any sleep tonight?"

"Depends on how late it gets. I might as well run on pure caffeine and adrenaline at this point." I laughed dryly.

I sat next to her, just like we had before the stalker had interrupted us. The DAW was left as it was.

Calista stared at her monitor blankly. "I'm sorry, Damien."

"For what?"

"I don't really feel like working on it right now."

I blinked, then nodded. "Wanna go to sleep?"

"Don't say it like that."

She closed her eyes, chuckling tiredly as she stood from her chair and headed for the bed. I was momentarily abandoned there, while Calista dangled her long, smooth, smooth legs as she lay back to stare up at the ceiling.

"Are you actually okay?" I was left quite at a loss. Her behavior didn't fit what I'd seen and expected of her. Then again, after what happened, I imagined most people would be pretty shaken up.

I stared at her bare feet and then caught her eyes on me as I followed up her long legs with a discerning leer. Her shorts had bunched up even more as she rested upon her mattress and exposed the soft curves of her inner thighs.

"Do I look okay to you?"

"You're not smoking." I pointed out, wheeling around to face her. "I thought that was strange."

"Oh." She flipped to her stomach and groaned, burying her face in her pillows. "Yeah."

"Yeah, huh?"

She fidgeted with her pillow, twisting its ends to some ungodly shape.

Her eyes were kinda intense.

"Calista, are you... okay?"

I had to ask again, for fuck's sake. She was giving me the creeps.

"Yeah... yeah, I am. Let's go to sleep?"

She phrased it as a question. I wanted to investigate a bit more, yet I too easily surrendered to the siren's call. Perhaps if I had a dozen soldiers bind me to a ship's mast like Ulysses did when he ordered his crew to ignore the sirens' song, then I'd have probably kept a modicum of my sanity to carry on the night with a clear head.

"Sure."

And I crawled my way on that bed. Calista turned off the remaining source of light, leaving only the distant glow of the streetlights from outside to filter through the blinds, and her various charging electronics dotted around the room.

I lay on my back. She lay on her back.

We both stared at the ceiling.

"Do you think... she'll try it again?" Calista whispered.

"No idea. I hope not."

"Me too."

A few seconds of silence. She shifted a little, but didn't change positions.

"You know... not all women are like that." Calista suddenly blurted out. "We're not all desperate and crazy."

"I know." I tried to assure her. "I don't judge you all based on that one woman."

I didn’t want to be that one guy who hated an entire gender because of the actions of a few. 

"It's just... I wouldn't... I wouldn't want you to think that."

"I don't."

She sighed. "It sucks."

I chuckled quietly.

It was a rare moment, where the perfect atmosphere for pillow talk was upon us, and I couldn't even see her expression.

"I think... I've made my family worry way too much." I admitted.

She nodded, or at least I assumed she did from the slight movement I felt from the side. "Quite."

"I didn't mean to."

"Then why?"

"Why go through with that song, why put myself out there? I know." I paused for a moment. "I guess I wanted to see the truth of this world."

"The truth?"

The more I dwelled on it, the more I was convinced of this whole thing being more than just a social experiment, more than just a way of settling some of my curiosity.

There was this nagging feeling inside of me that I was actually trying to prove a point.

"I don't have a concrete answer yet... maybe I'm trying to find a place for myself in all of this... maybe I want to make an impact of some sort, leave a legacy, add my own little contribution to a dying world beyond being a sperm factory... or maybe I'm just a selfish bastard who secretly wants all the women to go crazy for me."

I ended my soliloquy there.

I heard Calista snort next to me. "You're definitely that last one."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." I snickered as well. "But, I mean, think about it, Calista. What would happen if I just shut up, kept to myself, lived my life like any other male would in this world? Wouldn't you be bored of me?"

"I'd never be bored of you." Calista retorted. "You're my brother. I'd love you no matter what."

My heart skipped a beat at her words, and I felt my cheeks warm up. I cleared my throat. "That's... yeah, that's sweet, but I wouldn't be satisfied with a life like that."

"Why not? It's safe."

"I'd go crazy."

"You're already crazy."

I blew a raspberry. "I don't wanna hear that from you."

"Hmm..."

Her fingers twiddled the fabric of her top, tugging on it enough so her hips came up slightly.

Then, at the same time, we both turned our heads to look at each other.

Calista swallowed. Her breaths were coming out in short, silent puffs. I could see her eyes glint in the dark, then she swiftly rolled around, facing the other side and curling up like a roly-poly.

"Night."

"Night, Cali. Thank you."

"......"

xXx

Calista

She was light-headed when she fell asleep, and hot-blooded by the time she woke up.

Damien was sleeping right next to her, his steady breathing causing strands of her blonde hair to drift and tickle her ears.

She didn't dare shift. Didn't dare even breathe wrong.

Damien was spooning her.

He was fucking spooning her!

And it wasn't a gentle, unconscious movement either. He was pressed tightly against her ass, which had, at some point in the night, eagerly yawned open to snuggle that clothed morning wood right between her cheeks. It was so damn hard she felt she was holding a length of pipe under the sheets.

This man could've poked out an eye with how firm it was!

His arm was loosely draped over her stomach. His other arm was under the pillow.

Calista's face was flushed a deep red. Her lower abdomen warmed up in approval of the situation. She squeezed her eyes closed, refusing to let tears of embarrassment and excitement trail down.

'What do I do, what do I do, what do I fucking do?!'

Her ass wiggled a bit, and that was a terrible mistake. The rod sandwiched between them started to twitch ever so slightly.

A fresh wave of heat assaulted her as a loud gulp passed through her throat. The blood in her veins boiled in a toxic slurry.

The proper course of action would've been to politely wake Damien up and gently prompt him to extricate his member from the fleshy cleft of her derriere, but Calista's head had grown numb in an instant and became filled with naught but impure, selfish desires.

She held her breath, shivering lightly under the covers as one of her hands clasped around Damien's, urging it up from her stomach and towards her chest.

And not a single, pestering sound or a question from her precious brother's lips as they moved on autopilot, yet Calista didn't conclude the action. 'I can't do this...'

Not after having earned his forgiveness.

To cross that bridge a second time without his knowing felt akin to desecration.

An abominable, thieving criminal.

She closed her eyes and leaned into Damien's chest, biting her lip until the pain sobered her up.

His hand was placed back down on her abdomen, but not without taking a curious squeeze on a section of her chest she'd never allowed a man to touch.

That caused an audible squeak to pass through her lips.

Damien's chest rose and fell regularly, his body twitching in sporadic spurts. He was practically in a catatonic state.

One she'd have to awaken him from eventually.

Eventually...

She shook her hips once, attempting to free his member of the confinement of her ass and free it. 

She also figured one measly attempt was more than enough to decide that Damien's morning wood was firmly wedged in place. It would've taken a construction crew or a full-body yank to loosen it. That's what she told herself to hide that her treacherous buttocks had absolutely no intention of letting that behemoth escape.

'I mean, it's already there... and he put it there himself, so... right?'

Damien decided to sleep in her room. Damien decided to hug her. Damien decided to grind against her ass. 

All those actions contributed, therefore the final result was his fault, not hers.

That logic, however faulty it was, worked splendidly to convince her to let things be for as long as they could.