Harem Mode On Ch 03 1

KAYLA SYDNEY MARTIN

AGE 18

STATUS: IN A RELATIONSHIP

RELATIONSHIP TO YOU: 26/100

MODERATE CRUSH

Chet stared at these words hover above Kayla's head as she ran out of the locker room, slowly shrinking along with her diminishing figure in the distance until she turned a corner. Then the words vanished altogether, leaving him to ponder the last two lines over and over again in his own mind.

"Up eight points from yesterday,"

Chet thought happily. Considering that the maximum affection a girl could feel towards him was 100, something good was sure to happen soon at this rate.

"What happens at a hundred points? Marriage? Fucking? Does the 'MODERATE CRUSH' turn into 'NEVER-ENDING ZOMBIE-LUST' at that stage?"

, Chet wondered excitedly.

Whatever it was, he was making fast progress. Even if it came at the price of physically hurting himself just to impress her.

"Ouch."

His sore abs winced with the incredibly taxing activity of picking up his backpack from the floor and slinging it over one shoulder.

Chet plodded awkwardly out of the locker room towards his seventh and final period, Woodshop. He was so roused and horny from his encounter with Sydney that he forgot his class was actually called Workshop. He slowed his stiff gait down so he didn't have to swing his arms as much.

Mr. Algernon gathered the class around for the beginning of class lecture. His portly Mall Santa belly shook with excitement as he announced the start of the bird cage project. Some of the duller and more loutish students furrowed their brows in confusion while the rest had on more placid looks.

"It was in the course outline, you fucking idiots,"

Chet thought, glaring at half the room.

Wait, why am I even getting mad? LOL

Chet's chuckle whistled out of his nose in short puffs, raising the jet black hairs on Anna's head. He realized he was standing right behind her, close enough for her to feel his breath.

She turned around, glanced up at him, then down, green eyes darting around quickly in her plastic goggles. His own eyes only briefly glanced at hers before returning to the presentation. She seemed to fixate on his shirt for a bit before she turned back too. He could only catch one of the nostrils under her tall, septum-pierced, slightly aquiline nose flaring out as she caught a whiff of his workout sweat.

With her facing the front of the class again, Chet was free to notice her body, rear-view style. And there wasn't much to notice, in his opinion.

Anna was skinny, with slightly masculine angles on her upper body. She was wearing a grey tank top with a punk logo, which let her shoulders jut out sharply, forming a triangle that disappeared into her back and butt, which were wrapped with a hooded sweatshirt tied around her waist.

Her pale white skin contrasted nicely with her black-dyed hair (though the blonde roots were beginning to show), and faded smoothly into the light tan of her forearms. The left one had a tattoo of a Redwood tree, which probably said something about Anna that Chet was curious about but never bothered to ask. He, like most people, noticed it mostly on the level that it was a tattoo, which felt kind of edgy for a high-schooler to have, just like her piercings.

Chet stared at Anna's butt, trying to see if he could unlock some sort of X-ray vision to see past the hoodie covering it. He gave up.

He frowned at how much time he spent thinking about this girl, who was only significant to him because she was the lone girl in woodshop (boing).

ANNA YOUNG

AGE 18

STATUS: SINGLE

RELATIONSHIP TO YOU: 9/100

INTRIGUED

And because of that, too.

The slight inkling of a possibility of a chance that there might be something between them caused Chet to reconsider her personality and features several times, even though he always arrived at the same indifferent opinion.

Plus, there was Sydney -

Kayla! Can't call her by her middle name

- to consider. Even though she had a boyfriend, she was a very appealing proposition for Chet: Blonde, buxom, busty, uhhh... bootylicious, athletic yet completely feminine, and with an light, syrupy Australian accent that fell softly on his ears like a light sun-shower in spring. The figure of Josh Austin, her current boyfriend, as an obstacle only made the prize more tantalizing.

Sydney (

fuck!

) inspired Chet to better himself. Anna was not quite on his radar yet, but he was a teenage boy, and his mind always welcomed new spank fodder.

A devilish grin spread across his lips.

"Well, what Kayla's doing with me is technically cheating on Josh. There's no reason I HAVE to be exclusive with anyone yet. Let's just wait and see what opportunities present themselves. Who knows? Maybe there's a Harem mode to this RPG?"

Anna caught his lecherous smile from across the room and turned her face away as soon as he made eye contact with her. The 9 glowed brilliantly above her head.

Chet pushed the thought out of his mind and concentrated on scoring more points from his workshop project.

===============

After school, Chet roamed around a bit in the city before coming home, hoping to find Frank again. Part of him just wanted to perform a good deed for the experience points, but there was something about the homeless man that felt so fatherly that Chet was kind of looking forward to the experience itself.

He parked his bike in Rochester Plaza again, and walked through the front entrance of Little Wok, making the door bell jingle. A man in a tall white hat saw him and got off his chair to take his place behind the steaming vats of greasy food.

"I'll have the Sriracha Chow Mein, an order of Cheddar Cheese Rangoons, Manchurian Beef, Insanity Chicken, and the Gobi Goose," Chet ordered, spacing his items out for the 'chef' to box. His game-o-vision revealed the absolute nutritional poverty of his takeout, but he didn't mind. He was getting food for his mother and Frank only. Chet planned on just eating fruit tonight.

Well, and a bit of the Gobi Goose.

The middle-aged Chinese man smiled at Chet as he dropped the fortune cookies into the bag last, then he wrapped the handles in a knot. Chet hated how tight the knot was, and how he'd have to use his good thumbnail to tease it open.

The man saw Chet's little frown and gave him a knowing grin, "It is important for happiness to

tie the knot

. Don't be sloppy. Tie it once, and do it right the first time."

Is he...Is he giving me

wisdom?

A Chinese guy? Isn't that an old cliché?

Chet pondered, knowing that there had to be a hidden meaning to this. Either that, or old Chinese people were just weird and placed unusual emphasis on random parts of their speech.

Chet just gave him a neutral face while placing a dollar in the tip jar.

GOOD DEED PERFORMED +1 EXP

The man thanked him and Chet walked out the store with the bag, placing it on his handlebar before riding back home. He frowned at how little he earned from that donation. Maybe it worked like karma, and money had to be given to the right people who could use it the most, like the homeless.

"Hey Chet! How are you doing?"

Chet broke out into a spontaneous smile as Frank made himself easy to find.

"Hiya Frank. Just bringing home food for the mother again. And yes, I got something for you too," Chet said as he unhinged his bag from this handlebar.

"I guess miracles do happen twice. Thanks, son."

Chet gritted his teeth. The damn knot was tied tight, and he started to tear the bag open. The inscrutable Chinese man was not going to get in the way of his charitable act, if he could help it.

"Now, now, hold it right there. Lemme have a try, Chet," the homeless man said, reaching his hand out. He was a little shorter than Chet was, so Chet sitting on his bike made them about level. Chet handed the bag over.

"If you break the bag open, then you can't use it to carry the rest of your food back to your mama," the man pointed out as his surprisingly nimble fingers reached the center of the knot and slowly began teasing the loops apart.

"It may take longer this way, but with a little care and attention..." the bag made rustling noise as Frank successfully extricated the handle loops from each other, "you get something you can come back to when you need it. Now where's my gift, son?" Frank handed it back to Chet, and it meant a little to the boy that he didn't run off with the whole bag, even though he knew he wouldn't.

The corners of Chet's eyes itched a little when he saw how gentle Frank was something as cheap and disposable as a plastic bag. Obviously the homeless man cherished things that most people took for granted, but it was unsettling to see someone care this much about anything.

"Here. I got you some Manchu beef and Rangoons."

Cha-ching!

GOOD DEED PERFORMED +15 EXP

"Ah! Treasures. You've made me a happy man again, Chet. How can I repay you? You want me to buy you some alcohol? Or smokes?"

Chet laughed.

"I'm old enough for smokes, Frank. And I don't need you to do anything for me. Your gratitude is enough for me."

Chet's throat caught a little at the last part, which was a lie. He knew he was mainly doing this because it was an easy way to earn a whopping 15 experience boost. Suddenly, everything felt like shit in Chet's mouth, and his eyes glanced away from Frank's face.

The older man caught the change in Chet's expression, and raised his eyebrows sympathetically. "Now, forgive me if this is intruding, but-"

Chet looked back at Frank. "...Do you have a father?"

Chet startled. "Wait, what." "I-" "Well...no. No, my dad passed away some time ago."

"Ah, well. That was just a lucky guess. I don't want to say I knew it, but I could tell by your eyes that something was hurting you."

"What gave it away?"

"You're a good kid, Chet. You're a lot different from other kids your age. There's something in you that makes you wanna do good things for people."

Chet listened with interest. Flattery aside, he was curious to know what Frank thought of him, and for some reason, was feeling inclined to believe it.

"Most people aren't that nice, at least not for a reason. And I wish it wasn't this way, but most of the time, people like you are the way they are because something happened to 'em. Something sad, usually."

Chet looked down at the ground and was quiet for a moment.

"I don't think my life is sad."

"Oh no, no, not at all! You've got a good life ahead of you. You have the world to look forward to. But you can't control the past. No one can..."

Chet's face went through several expressions as he pondered the weight of Frank's words. He had not expected something this heavy and deep to come out of interacting with Frank. But then again, how often did he interact with the homeless? All they have is time to think.

Frank grew concerned. He didn't want to upset a future meal ticket, and possible friend.

"But hey! What do I know? I'm just a bum who's got nobody to talk to. Sorry if I scared you, kid!"

"No, it's no big deal. I agree with what you said, though I'm not entirely sure it applies to me."

"Well, that's good. As long as it doesn't keep you from being a good person, Chet, I'm happy. And not just for me! Maybe one day you'll run into a girl deserving of all that niceness bottled up inside your big heart."

Chet flinched again at the compliment as if it wounded him, but did a better job of hiding it. He crinkled his eyes and mouth into what was now a well-rehearsed smile.

The two parted ways, and Chet sped home rehearsing random fragments of sentences over and over in his head.

"Tie the knot."

"Something you can come back to."

"You can't control the past."

"Hi, Chet," greeted Jane, the landlord's daughter, in the hallway.

"Hey Jane," Chet responded, smiling while pacing up to his apartment.

"

There's

my boy! You're here early today, sweetie," came the gentle, loving voice of Chet's mother, Roxanne. She was wearing an apron over her usual work outfit of a tight T-shirt and short black skirt.

"Hi, mom." He planted the takeout on the table.

"Aww, who's my little man? Thanks for bringing food home again, but I just made Goulash! Sit down, try some!"

She lifted a wooden spatula from a steaming pot, blew on it, and brought it through the air over to Chet's mouth. He sighed, then opened his mouth, letting her feed him.

"Good, right? I actually made this myself this time. No more re-heated takeout for my boy!" She beamed, watching his face expectantly.

"It's good, mom," Chet answered good-naturedly, cleaning his lip with his finger, then licking it clean.

"Heh heh heh," she chuckled proudly, resting her hands on her wide hips in a Wonder-Woman pose. She was kind of cute being this happy. He felt a little sorry for her, being the only person she could express her kindness toward. She probably wouldn't as big a Captain-Save-a-ho (meless person) as he was.

"I know I've been a bad mother to you since-"

"Oh, god, please, mom. Don't say i-"

"Ever since your father died. I pushed you into getting a weekend job even though you're busy with schoolwork and you don't have enough time to spend with your friends already."

She brought his head into her arms and lowered it onto her aproned bosom. It smelled like ground beef, tomato sauce, onions and garlic. In other words, wonderful.

And they were 32F breasts too. Big and round, and firm, when cramped together in a tight T-shirt like the one she was wearing. They stood proudly from her small chest, sagging a little because let's be reasonable. She was 35 and a mother.

How she managed to keep a 25 inch waist and a shapely 36 inch ass, and the hair and skin of a woman a decade younger in spite of it all the stress in her life was beyond science.

So Chet forgave his mother her vanity when she would primp and preen in front of the mirror, or ask him rhetorically if he knew any women her age as attractive as her. He could admit she was an objectively good-looking woman and let her have that. She didn't have much else going for her in her life at the moment.

Roxanne was self-aware and self-protective about her body and how it affected men, especially creeps. She ran into a lot of those at the bar she worked. She knew what men wanted and tried to ignore their leers and stares, knowing full well they were undressing her with their eyes.

And she wouldn't fall for sweet talk either. After Moe, Chet's father, there really weren't a lot of men who'd be interested in her beyond a quick pump-and-dump, despite her objectively great qualities. Age and experience gave her a sense of realism that often soured into jadedness.

But there was one man left in her life she could trust. Her little golden boy Chet. She gave him a tight squeeze and let out a depressed sigh that gradually turned contented as he hugged her back. He was standing up now, a full head taller than her without her heels.

He stared vacantly at the ceiling, comforted knowing that at the very least, he could help his mother in this small way.

"It's alright, mom. You've done a lot for me already, and I'm getting to the age where I'm supposed to take care of myself anyway. It's not like you're a bad mother, so stop saying that."

He said the last line with a bit of annoyance. It really was a nuisance.

"Oh, Chet. You've gotten so much bigger. I really do think you can take care of yourself."

Roxanne looked up at her son's face, pondering his newfound maturity. It wasn't too long ago that he was a sulking, resentful stereotype of a teenager. The change was so sudden it almost seemed to have come overnight. She put her hands on his shoulders and arms.

When did he get these muscles?

She gave his left bicep a squeeze.

"Okay, let's freaking eat already, Christ!" Chet pulled away, embarrassed. Nobody had crossed any boundaries, but he wasn't interested in letting the moment drag on.

"Of course, of course! Eat up while I change for work," Roxanne said as she hurriedly set Chet's plate and ran off to the bathroom.

Chet sat down and relished his dinner, collecting big chunks of beef and pasta on the tines of his fork, letting the sauce drip down as they cooled. He had forgotten all about the fruit diet he had planned for himself earlier. He finished dinner, said goodbye to his mother, then spent the rest of the day in his apartment by himself.

-xxxxxxxxx-

Chet was busily putting himself to work, finishing homework assignments, practicing guitar, and earning experience points. To his delight, his fingers could work out the F, A, and G chords as if by memory. Investing points into guitar playing last night was starting to pay off.

The clock ticked. 9 PM.

He could go to sleep now and get up bright and early. It was the right thing to do when there' nothing left but to kill time.

Buuut, on the other hand, this was usually the hour he'd fap to internet porn. It had become a daily (sometimes bi-daily) ritual.

Chet gritted his teeth. He learned last night that porn use and masturbation took away experience points. But the boner was already there, tenting in his pants.

"I... must... overcome!" He yelled, alone in his room. He already had his laptop open, hand on the mouse. A private browsing window already filled the screen. It had so many tabs open, he was unwilling to close the browser. Some were of interesting articles, others were of porn.

Chet frowned. He would have to go through them individually.

BIG TITTED BLONDES.

Close.

HOES FROM DOWN UNDER.

Close.

HOW TO FLIP A WATER BOTTLE PERFECTLY EVERY TIME.

Keep that.

A DINGO ATE MY PUSSY

Close.

14 REASONS TO GET A HAIRCUT. THE LAST ONE MAY SURPRISE YOU.

Keep.

STEP-MOM'S HAND STUCK IN SINK

Close.

STEP-SISTER STUCK IN DRYER

Close.

FALLEN STEP-GRANDMOTHER STUCK IN BATHTUB

I need to see a psychologist. Close.

BUSTA RHYMES TEACHES YOU HOW TO RAP

Keep that, might need it.

HOW TO READ HEMINGWAY

Close.

MAN TRIES TO EAT LIVE LANDMINE. YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT!

Keep.

PIZZA MAN VS COUGAR

Kee-wait, scroll down. No, close.

AUTISTIC MAN VS BEAR

Ah, there we go. Keep.

And so it went, for about forty tabs. All that was left now was internet gold. Chet tried to squint or look away whenever a tit or ass popped up on screen, but sometimes he slipped up and allowed himself to get a good stare before his brain kicked in and reminded him to close the tab.

Chet looked down. His palms were sweaty. His knees were weak, arms were heavy. Mom's spagh- Just kidding.

But he was breathing heavily. It was surprisingly hard for him to close all those porn tabs, especially when some of those were ones he was saving for later.

He clicked the minimize button on the private browsing window, reminding himself to transfer the tabs to a regular window so this wouldn't happen again, when suddenly his SFW window appeared, having been obscured previously.

It was Kayla's Facebook profile, and at the top of the page were her family pictures from Cabo (which, for non-WASP readers, is a popular vacation spot in Mexico). It was captioned LATE SUMMER PHOTOS followed by a couple of heart symbols and :3 faces.

Chet's pupils drew lower, resting on Kayla's tanned, oiled, bikini'ed body resting on a beach towel next to a swimming pool. The water was a lovely turquoise, the sky a rich azure hue, and Kayla's skin a delightful golden bronze.

God damn it,

Chet exhaled, boner already out of his pants and in his hand. He was clicking through the rest of the album left-handed.

It had 16 photos. He was in for a real treat. Chet sighed in defeat as he stroked himself.

Kayla wasn't afraid to show off her body, but her poses were nowhere near pornographic. These pictures were more like those of a real teenage girl on a family vacation, who knew that friends and family would see them. In fact, her family members sometimes showed up in these photos.