Chapter 11
I.
We'd hope to make the sunset at Mallory Square. Nadia and I hadn't gotten down there for it yet. Pudge's only trip had been, well, "eventful". It's a Key West thing that everyone has to do. The question at this point was -- would the sun wait for four college-aged girls to get themselves ready for a night on the town? We waited in the courtyard as the youngsters got themselves done up. Pudge and Nadia were ready and looked amazing.
Nadia's wore red salsa dress with a skirt that hugged that amazing ass until it disappeared into frills immediately thereafter. It had a deep "V" up the front that accentuated her gravity-adverse cleavage and split to two thin straps that tied behind her neck leaving her splendid back bare down again to her -- did I mention -- amazing ass. Of course, this dress came with its own pair of red heels that accentuated the line of her toned legs and put her height at about 6'2". Her accents were all yellow gold except for an extravagantly large ruby pendent that matched the red of her dress impeccably and a far humbler diamond engagement ring. Six months of prepping rich kids for the SAT's, a couple of cash construction jobs, and selling my paper-writing services to physics undergrads at a neighboring college sat on her lovely ring finger. That it was her least expensive and most prized piece of jewelry, made me melt whenever I saw her wear it.
Pudge, well, Pudge just dripped sex. She wore a skin-tight satiny pencil dress. It stretched over her form hugging every amazing line her body had to offer. Where Nadia's dress held snug around key parts of her body and points of emphasis, Pudge's seemed to follow every one of her delightful contours. It especially accentuated her tight muscled ass. It went up over only her right shoulder following a line that accentuated her breasts that, while smaller than Nadia's, were even perkier. She wore a black choker with a heart pendant that had a pale purple gem. It contrasted with the turquoise of the fabulous dress. It did, I recalled, go with her black senior prom dress that had purple accents. Jack had given it to her. I had cost him a lot more that he had to spend on such a thing, but he adored his little sister. For all the teasing of her we did together, so did I.
We were sitting on the patio. Manalo had mixed a pitcher of margaritas that we were sharing, He'd left an additional bottle of tequila, ice, and lime wedge as well, knowing the girls would want to augment his already strong brew. Drinks of both were flowing. We were killing time with our pregaming.
It was the first chance I had to reflect on some of my more recent harrowing experiences. Well, the harrowing experiences I didn't sign up for, anyway. I couldn't very well put my voluntarily-entered-into sexual liaisons with Nadia and Pudge into the same category as nearly being raped or threatened with rape by women and girls. Sure there were elements of being forced or non-consent in my (amazeballs) sex adventures with those two goddesses. I'd lost count of how many times in recent days I'd been fucked into unconsciousness or pushed past normal sexual limits. My body was also pretty battered. I had bruises on bruises, had dislocated a finger joint, sprained a shoulder, and my dick had been squeeze within an inch of its life. I almost thought of that as the cost of doing business. I was playing with fire there to be sure, but I knew there was risk when I lit the match. One can't expect to be in so asymmetric a physical relationship where the goal is for the stronger person to be overcome with orgasmic sensation and not expect things to go sideways.
The near-miss rapes were another thing. I had been attacked and violated on two occasions. I had maybe been threatened with another assault. While I think Beth was just trying to illustrate a point or fill some inner need, the feeling of terror I had was a hard memory to shake. Even Nadia had pressed me nearly into a wall at home and Pudge had crushed a hurt finger in situations that they would have previously just used words. These were women who loved me, but they'd made their points with their strength as a default. The realization that women in general were using physicality more and more to express themselves was worrisome. Given what is now their overwhelming physical superiority, they could easily hurt a man without even meaning to. The incredible advantages in strength and speed women now had combined with a willingness to use that power mixed in with women's rising and unchecked sexual aggression made a dangerous brew. The thought of it made me feel so unusually vulnerable.
I made the mistake of trying to talk about it. "You know, ladies, that little girl went into great detail about how she could take my delicate virtue without breaking a sweat," I'd said. "I've been nearly raped twice in recent weeks," I said, "What is wrong with women?"
"Actually it was nearly three times," Nadia retorted. "I yanked you out from between two cougars on the dance floor the other night -- you never even saw them coming. Another few seconds, and they would have been fucking that delicate virtue right out of you."
"Three. Three times. A guy can't even walk down the street anymore," I said. I was alarmed to find out I'd been in danger without even knowing it almost bothered me more. Of course, I hadn't come out much better -- having been ground into unconsciousness between these two. There was certainly an element of being forced; I could still feel myself being helplessly smashed between them Somehow, that was different. I mean, I leapt into that Simon-smasher willingly at least.
"It's because you're an idiot," Pudge offered without remorse.
I took mild umbrage at that, "That sounds a lot like victim blaming There's no way you'd let a guy say something like that about a woman rape victim." Of course, there really hadn't been much of any female rape victims in the last couple of years. Really only the rare female-on-female rape. Not unheard of, but nothing like the volume of male-on-female rapes they replaced. Men who chose to try to rape women in the first months after the change became statistics of another kind.
Female on male rapes certainly happened -- a lot from what I'd recently encountered. These attacks though were hardly ever reported. Even when they were, the reports rarely resulted in arrests. In cases where there were arrests, there was pretty much never a prosecution. There wasn't really anything like a male rape kit for any hard evidence, and no prosecutor wanted to try to convince a jury that the 110lb little girl had thrown the 200lb male victim against a wall and fucked him against his will.
"No," said Pudge, "You just don't know the rules. Don't park in a dark area. Never walk alone. Act like you're talking on your phone."
Nadia continued, "Don't dress too provocatively. Walk up to strange women and act like they're old friends when a strange guy is following you. Give the Uber driver the address two doors up. Go to the bathroom in groups." It was painful to hear how women grew up learning these things.
"Okay, okay, I get the picture," I said raising my hands. I'd always felt myself to be an ally of women, but in that moment, feeling vulnerable as I did and angered at that state, I lashed out. I believe I've mentioned I can be pretty dumb at times. "But come on," I retorted from my unstable soapbox, "You're talking hypotheticals. I was attacked for real. Twice. I could have been raped either time."
