Start the Revolution Without Me

"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."

― Edmund Burke

"They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself."

― Andy Warhol, The Philosophy of Andy Warhol

"Learn from the mistakes of others. You can never live long enough to make them all yourself."

― Groucho Marx

"The test of any counsel or proverb is this: does it acknowledge the world as it is, or does it pretend that it is something else? If the former, it is excellent counsel. If the latter, it is pure and often reckless folly. Empathy is the golden rule, but objective realism is ironclad." - Col. Jack Harrison

I awoke the next morning in the midst of two very naked bodies, just as I wished. I didn't bother to check whose they were. I would find out soon enough and I was ready to get up and piss, anyway. I relieved myself in a hurry and jumped into the shower, only to hear the buzzing of my cell phone. I ignored it for now, not being in a mood to deal with whomever it was right then. It was a Saturday morning, after all. I didn't need to interrupt my shower to answer a goddamn phone.

I felt very relaxed with surprising speed, not that I was that stressed so soon after I awoke. I enjoyed the shower and its hot jets, though I quickly realized that I wasn't alone after more than a minute or so. I felt two soft hands caress my body and I reached out to return the favor, finding out quickly that two people were in the shower with me. They kissed me from both directions, of course. The second pair of hands belonged to a dude, but by now, that didn't bother me. I was used to embracing my latent bisexuality, and frankly, coupling with couples was a huge draw, regardless of the sexes involved.

Then again, were they really couples if we in the inner circle were all one big group affair? Honestly, who cared, I decided, even as I found myself washing them while they washed me, our hands tangling together as much as our tongues. Whoever they were, they did a great job, just as I did, though there was considerable pleasure involved in the task, so that helped. I caressed their buttocks as well as their genitals while washing them, even as they did to me.

"So, you enjoyed that, did you?" Stacey teased me while Dale and she fondled me and I them.

"Oh, definitely. Were you my last intimate partners last night?" I asked her directly.

"Yes, we were, and we certainly hope for an encore, in case you missed it, Master," Stacey told me with a very passionate kiss, "in case you wondered, both of you guys Topped and bottomed. I think that Dale figured out, though, that bottoming is better for him. Topping is just for a change of scenery now and then. I'm hardly shocked by that, of course. You're naturally more of the Dom type, certainly more of a Top, though vers enough to shake things up on occasion."

"You had me over an ottoman, and oh, fuck, it was amazing, the way that you drove deep inside my ass... it was proper buggery, no doubt of that. I felt it... hell, I think that Stacey felt it!" Dale laughed as he took the reality of our new dynamic in stride.

"Well, you guys are married to me now, at least in spirit. I look forward to making that official, once that becomes possible. I'm sure that Nina and the others do, too. What about you? What did we do together, babe?" I now asked Stacey.

"What didn't we do... we all did everything to each other, including pegging, I might add. But I must confess that my favorite part was you inside me from behind, up my ass, while my sweet hubby was inside my cunt. Double penetration has a particular potential for pleasure, to put it mildly. I feel sore as fuck, even now, but I crave even more of that," Stacey told me with a very steamy kiss.

That was when my phone buzzed again, even as we got out and the couple dried me... and each other off. I answered the phone, realizing that it was apparently urgent. I looked down and didn't recognize the number, but so be it. I cleared my throat as I awaited the other person's identification. I sighed a bit as I realized that it was an area code. How many Britons still had my number?

"Bruce Alton," I finally broke the ice.

"Bruce, love, it's me, Christine," my ex-wife informed me with a surprising endearment, even for an Englishwoman.

"Ah, the ex. How is life treating you and the other petticoat despots?" I asked her with plenty of sarcasm.

"Well, I wish that I could tell that it was all swell and dandy, but you surely can see from the news that things have taken a real downturn. I can't make heads or tails of it. One minute, we're the new ruling class, the new elite, and the very next, it's falling apart at the seams. I just don't... I don't get it. How did it go so wrong, and all so fast? It doesn't make sense at all. We're liberating everyone from the shackles of patriarchy, even the menfolk. Something doesn't add up at all," my ex ranted with a strong hint of fear as well as disenchantment.

"Oh, do you mean the ones who created, built, and maintained civilization for ages are not grateful for their chance to slave thanklessly and be subjected to privation, humiliation, indignity, enforced sexual frustration, etc.? They didn't fall to their knees in adoration and gratitude for the opportunity to be enslaved, oppressed, and punished for the alleged misdeeds of their forefathers?" I inquired mockingly, "let me guess... they are not meekly operating the infrastructure that allows you to dictate to them the solutions for your First World Problems? They aren't your beasts of burden anymore?"

"But... we always had those things? How were we to know that it was men who were in charge of their maintenance? It was just how things were. We never imagined that men would be so upset that they would stop... doing their jobs!" Christine sounded truly agitated on the phone.

"It sounds like the Women's Studies course curriculum left out some key details, then. Maybe you should sue for a refund, if the courtrooms even have their lights on, that is," I taunted my ex-wife, glad to see her at a loss and truly stumped now that her idiocy had consequences.

"But... but... please, help us... we need help getting things back in working order. Surely, you can help me, even if you despise the rest of my party and government. I'm your wife!" Christine pleaded with me now.

"No, you were my wife, and now I actively loathe you, because you voted for a regime that sought to deny me my freedom and dignity, two very basic rights, just for being a man. That's the very sexism that you once claimed to abhor. You're nothing but a basic hypocrite, just like all feminists worldwide. Go moan about your First World Problems somewhere else," I told my ex as I hung up on her, glad to be done with her hysterical nonsense (and yes, I know the origins of that word).

That was when I looked at the news on my cell phone and realized that there had been a raid by Federal agents on a New Order sympathizer safe house. Literature, bombs, guns, all kinds of other materials had been stockpiled, including some chemical nerve agents, such as VX or VZ or something of that sort. Clearly, there had been plans for a violent overthrow of the United States Government by the radical feminists, and worse, there were documents implicating Nikki Haley, Kamala Harris, Kirsten Gillibrand, and others in the plot. There was a "Mistress Variable," who was unnamed, but the Feds were confident that she would be identified in time.

The long term implications of this discovery weren't difficult to analyze. The politicians who were connected to this fiendish conspiracy would be arraigned on some kind of federal charges, but more immediately, their cause would be even less popular than before. Their political careers were over, whatever their fantasies had been. Worse still, the Italian actress Asia Argento and the pop diva Beyonce Knowles were implicated in the conspiracy and possibly faced federal charges themselves. Argento would have to be extradited, but Knowles could easily be arrested, once people got past her security.

"I was never a fan of Beyonce, so no great loss there. As for Ms. Argento, she lost me around the time that she proved to be a hypocrite. No sense in mulling that over too much, of course. I hope that they both get what's coming to them. If I were Jay Z, I'd be filing for divorce and pronto. Don't stand by a woman who wants to emasculate you in every way that she already hasn't. I was smarter than that myself," I chuckled, even as I began humping Stacey in the john and Dale fucked her throat.

"Tell me about it. One of these days I'll tell you my backstory with my own horrid ex. She was the stuff of nightmares, of course. Count yourself lucky on such a quick escape, Master," Dale commented ruefully as we shared his wife.

Whatever one said about Stacey, she wasn't a nag or shrew. She was a truly loving woman in every sense of the word. It was a helluva way to prepare for breakfast, and by Jove, I would need the calories after this. I couldn't wait to see her belly swell up, preferably with twins, one of his and one of mine. The way that she responded to being slapped on her bum only added to her appeal to me. She was truly a delight, though hardly the one around my hearth and home.

Even as I pumped harder inside Stacey, I considered the long-term prospects of the New Order regime and calculated that they had scant wees before the whole edifice collapsed. When that happened, well, we would see what we wished to do then... and by we, I mostly meant me. Mostly. There was Nina to consider, plus Tanveet, Vicky, and several others. Still mostly me. I was the Boss, after all.