Not Your Average Joe
Chapter 19: Monday Morning and a Proposal

Copyright© 2016 by double_entendre

Sex Story: Chapter 19: Monday Morning and a Proposal - This is story inspired by, but NOT a part of the "Swarm Cycle Universe" about a boy genius who comes up with a plan to defeat an alien race known as the Vermin, that intends to invade Earth. Will he be successful in this venture? What complications will he face? Is he man enough to handle the sheer number of companions he's been issued, and can he live with the results of his actions?

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Reluctant   Coercion   Slavery   Lesbian   Fan Fiction   Science Fiction   Space   Aliens   Incest   Cousins   Group Sex   Harem   Interracial   Black Female   White Male   White Female   Oriental Female   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Pregnancy   School   War  

It had been two days since I’d been able to see Tom. Megan, who refused to leave the hospital, was by his side when I’d arrived. He was awake and alert, but there had still been no change to his lower body paralysis.

“What the hell do you want?” Megan shouted at me as I walked in.

“Now, honey, Joe isn’t the bad guy here; he’s not the one who shot me,” Tom said.

“Maybe not, but if it wasn’t for him none of this would have happened,” she complained.

“Megan, I willingly jumped in front of that bullet, and I’d do it again if it meant keeping you safe. You will take her now, won’t you?” Tom asked, referring his question to me.

“Damn it, Tom! I already told you I have no intention of going with him or anyone else,” she stated before I could answer.

“Not even if I agreed to sponsor you both?” I challenged calmly.

“What are you talking about?” he wanted to know.

“Well, there is no law stating that all my companions have to be women, and since I still have a number of empty slots to fill I could easily afford to bring the both of you,” I explained.

“What good would I be to Megan now?” he asked dejectedly.

“Tom, I’ve made some inquiries about your condition, and the AI has assured me that, with their advancements in medical science, not only would you be practically guaranteed to make a full recovery, you wouldn’t even be left with a scar to indicate that you’d ever been shot,” I revealed.

“You’re lying!” Megan accused.

“No honey, I don’t believe he is. I’ve also heard stories that the Consensus can repair even the worst of physical deformities, so it only makes sense that they could help me, as well,” he said.

“That’s right Tom, and the healing process would also be greatly accelerated,” I boasted.

“Joe, everybody knows that a companion is nothing more than a sex slave. Even if I was to make a full recovery, I am still neither gay nor bisexual, and so what possible service could I be to you?” he challenged.

Their negativity was starting to annoy me. “Damn it, Tom! You saved my fucking life. Aside from a few household chores, the only requirement I’d likely ask of you is to keep Megan satisfied, and I’m sure, once you’re healed, you’d have no problem accomplishing that,” I said, smiling at the last part.

“What would be expected of me?” Megan asked, still very leery of my motives.

“As a female companion, you would be required to bear children. Now don’t worry, because all of them would be sired by Tom. I have no intention of ever using you for sex, unless the both of you willingly ask to join my harem. That being said, you are more than welcome to physically enjoy any of my other companions whenever they’re not busy, provided everyone involved is in agreement to do so. I would prefer that, for the time being, Tom confines his sexual activities to just you but, given the circumstances, I am even willing to negotiate on that point as well,” I told her.

“How do we know you’ll keep your word?” Megan inquired.

“You don’t, but my parents raised me to be an upright individual, and I always try to honor my commitments, whenever possible. Your boyfriend trusted me enough that he risked his own life to save mine. I would think that, even if there were the slightest chance that he could make a full recovery, much less the practical guarantee I’m offering, you would be more than willing to agree to this,” I told her.

“It just sounds too good to be true,” she complained.

“Well, to be honest, it’s not all rosy. If something were to happen to me, there is no telling where the rest of you would end up. I tried to get the Consensus to raise Toms’ CIP score so he could become a volunteer, too, but sadly there was just too much of a gap for them even to consider adjusting it that much,” I responded with a half-smile to mask the gloom.

“So, what’s going to happen to me now?” Tom asked, still weak from his ordeal.

“Once you sign the agreement to become my companion, I will have you shipped off to a nanotech lab for immediate reconstruction. If there are any other physical changes you would like to make to your body, let me know now, and I will approve them,” I told him.

“So I could have like moles or other scars removed?”

“Those would be simple procedures. I’m talking about more major changes, such as being taller, increased muscles, a larger dick, longer tongue, hairier chest. Hell, if you wanted to look like Tom Cruise or Justin Bieber, I could arrange it. Look, you’re obviously tired, so I will let you get some rest. Here are the contracts for you and Megan. They are already filled out and signed by me. All they need are your signatures. Talk it over between yourselves, and I will be back later to find out what the two of you decide. If you agree to sign, just make me a list of any other changes you want done and I will forward it to the AI,” I explained before leaving.

I reluctantly asked Major Johnson to get in touch with Miss Loretta and set up a time when I could receive some training for companion disciplinary practices. I hated to do it, but I knew this was necessary if I were to properly manage over twenty different individuals. It turned out she had some free time on Wednesday, so we decided to meet at her place around 1:00 PM that afternoon. Needless to say, I wasn’t looking anywhere near as forward to that visit as I did our previous encounter.

Major Johnson and I had decided that I should probably spend at least some time during the next few days scrutinizing the women of Harvard. We reasoned there must be thousands of unattached companions roaming the campus searching for potential sponsors.

After we had dealt with the expected hassle from the identity police, we were directed to an area that must have been at least ten times the size of the companion selection room in my former high school. The place was truly massive, and someone came up with the brilliant idea to incorporate the university’s swimming pool and spa area into the mix.

Personally, I would describe the scene as one gigantic orgy. I’d never seen such debauchery – it looked like mating season at the Brookfield Zoo. They were fucking in the pool, on the ground, in the shower, over benches, on rollaway beds, in the sauna, on the picnic tables and even in the Jacuzzi hot tub. Everywhere you looked, couples were engaging in some form of sexual activity. This was definitely the place to be if you were horny.

Prior to entering, we were all issued wrist bands, which alerted others of our status. Mine was grey, indicating I was a Consensus volunteer with available slots to fill. Sergeant Johnson wore a red one, showing he was just an observer and thereby unapproachable. Blue was for companions searching for a sponsor. Despite the initial chaos, everything was surprisingly organized but, then again, what else would one expect of a Harvard campus?

I was just standing there taking it all in when some asshole showed up and started giving me a load of shit.

“What are you doing here, pipsqueak?” he directed at me.

“Well, unless you are colorblind I would think that’d be obvious,” I replied, indicating the color of my wrist band.

“Don’t get smart with me, squirt. How’d you get in here?” he demanded.

“Through the door – the same way you did, I imagine,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“This place is only meant for university students and potential companions,” he stated.

“You don’t say. That must be why I had to show my student ID before they would let me in,” I responded, mockingly slapping my hand against my head as if I just now figured that out.

“Oh, you must think you’re real funny, asshole,” he barked.

“Not usually, but you’re making it awful easy by asking such dumb questions. Look, all joking aside, I am here for the same reason you are, to gather companions, so if you’ll kindly stop pestering me, maybe we can both accomplish our task,” I suggested.

“Aw, come on, fess up, kid. What’s really going on? Did your big brother sneak you in here or something? Shit, you don’t look old enough to be a sponsor!”

At this point, we were beginning to draw a crowd. Major Johnson, who had been standing over in the corner, surveying the scene, started to walk towards me, but I just shook my head no. This was the perfect setup for me to have a little fun with this dickhead.

“Well, my ID card claims that I am, but if I were to prove that I’m smart enough to be at Harvard, would you then promise to leave me alone?” I asked baiting the asshole.

“Sure, kid, but how are do you propose to do that?” he quipped, giving me the opening I sought.

“What do you consider to be your toughest subject?”

“Advanced statistics for corporate business practices, he replied without hesitation.

“So you’re a senior?” I questioned knowing it was a senior-level course.

“That’s right,” he boasted.

“Well, it’s not my best subject, but no matter. Open your book and ask me a question from today’s lesson.”

“Do you honestly believe that you’d have a prayer of answering it correctly?” he laughed.

“Sure, I do. I mean, after all, it’s only statistics, not rocket science,” I stated boldly.

“Fine, but when you get it wrong you’ll have to leave,” he commanded confidently.

“Aw come on Al, don’t kick the kid out. Hell, he’s just a horny little bastard looking to get his rocks off. Why not set him up with Wanda instead?” some guy in the crowd suggested.

“Um ... that’s not a half-bad idea. What do you say, Brainiac? We’ll let you stay if you screw Wanda, or more precisely let her screw you,” he suggested.

“Who’s Wanda?” I asked, suspecting I already had a pretty good idea of what she might be like. The mental picture I had in my head was pretty accurate to the real Wanda – she stood about six foot three and must have weighed at least 350 pounds of what looked to be pure muscle. She was also dressed in denim-blue bib overalls. Her appearance practically screamed bull-dyke.

“So, how about it, Wanda, feel like breaking in this little guy?” Al asked after she stepped forward and he explained the situation to her.

“Sure, why not. I’ll give him a whirl,” she agreed, using her fingernail to pick a piece of her lunch out from between her teeth.

Even though I practically demanded that all my companions be bisexual, I didn’t need any CIP score to tell me that I wanted no part of this woman.

“So, the bet is that the loser must have sex with Wanda, here in front of everyone, right?” I verified.

“Hell, no, that’s only if you lose,” Al practically shouted.

“What do I get if I win?” I asked.

“I’ll agree to leave you alone,” he said, shrugging his shoulders like the answer should have been an obvious one.

“That doesn’t seem like a very fair bet. See my friend over there?” I said, pointing out Major Johnson. “All it would take is a nod from me to have him escort you off the premises.

¨Now, I have no problem accepting your little wager, so long as the terms are evenly matched. I’ll even do you one better and raise the stakes a bit. If I fail to answer your question correctly, not only will I have sex with Wanda but I will also agree to take her on as my companion, with a stipulation that there will be no trading, recycling or altering of her appearance, unless she requests it but, if I am able to get your question right, you must agree to the same conditions,” I asserted.

“How do I know that this isn’t some kind of setup, and one of the guys here didn’t already slip you the answers to today’s questions?” he asked, obviously getting nervous about my challenge.

“You were the one who approached me, remember, but, if the possibility of a setup still concerns you, just go ahead and choose any question out of the book you want. I seriously doubt it will make much of a difference to me, anyway.”

I could tell this was not the way Al envisioned things proceeding when he started giving me the business. I’m certain all he really wanted to do was show off a little bit and maybe gain the attention of some hot little companions in the process. It didn’t take a genius of my level to determine that the very thought of having sex with Wanda made him physically ill, and taking her on as a companion would be sheer torture for the man. Nevertheless, after shooting off his mouth in front of everyone, there wasn’t much of a chance that he could weasel his way out of this challenge without looking like a complete ass.

“Alright, punk, you’re on. Now, let me see if I can find a nice easy question, one that will at least give you a sporting chance,” he claimed as he started flipping pages.

As I expected, Al chose the hardest question he could find. After he had read it to me, I deadpanned for a couple of seconds, stalling just long enough to give the poor bastard a shred of hope that I really had no clue what the answer was.

“Wow, Al, that is some question. I guess you might be right. Maybe I really don’t belong here after all. I mean if this is the most challenging stuff they are teaching these days, it would seem that all the decent professors must have already been extracted,” I teased before giving him an in-depth analysis of my answer to the question.

“How in the hell did you know that?” he asked hotly.

“My IQ is well beyond the 300 range. In fact, they claim it’s actually unmeasurable,” I told him.

“But you never said you were a genius,” he argued.

“I’m a fourteen-year-old kid enrolled at Harvard University. Did you honestly think I was here as part of the cleanup crew?” I questioned.

“Aw, man, you played me,” he accused.

“Of course, I did, but only because you were harassing me. I hate bullies. Well now, since we have that settled, I believe you have a date with Miss Wanda,” I responded.

“There is no fucking way I’m going through with that bet!” he exclaimed.

“You agreed to the terms. I even let you pick the question,” I reminded him.

“You cheated., Therefore our bet doesn’t count,” he insisted.

“Does anyone else here think I cheated?” I asked, getting negative responses from the crowd.

“Come on, Al, he beat you fair and square,” one guy said.

“Yeah, step up and be a man,” someone else shouted.

“Sorry guys, it ain’t happening,” Al declared.

“Then you know the rules here, Al. I think you’d better leave now and don’t even think about ever coming back,” the previous guy said.

“Oh, come on, people. Are you really going to take this kid’s side over mine?” he whined.

“I have no doubt that had this kid lost he would have honored his agreement. Now, you can either pay up or get out,” Wanda responded.

“Fine, I don’t need this whorehouse, anyway. I can find my own companions, and I guarantee they won’t be scags like her,” he bragged.

 
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