My Yuri Harem - Chapter 43

The night was still young when we started. It marked the milestone in our lives. The first time I’d be in the bed with toys all around me. Various kinds of lubricants, dildos, getups and instruments. The round bed that I was so familiar with rested such unique and different devices on it. Amaan had made it obvious of her desires when she wouldn’t stop talking about toys and sex at the same time. And I had no choice but to oblige. But the context was not sexual at all. It had shifted drastically.

The story of ‘Cornerstone’ was really important to me. I had to know what was going on between those five boys as well as the professor. And thus, I needed some time to research. I got in contact with those five boys later, but they were too terrified to be of any use to me. It was obvious that if I asked Amaan directly, she’d take some action against me. Just her name seemed to terrorize the boys. And she did give that aura sometimes, but I never got that impression from her. It was because I was standing too close to the elephant and the full picture was not visible to me.

The day had started just like another. I had come from home and had taken a bath. After that I dressed up for the job in a proper suit and pants and went to Amaan’s study. It was on second floor of her villa right above the kitchen. I could always smell the cooking that was done by her chef when I entered the room. this time was no different. Something spicy to go after work. Sounds good. I could have some hot food after all the calling and driving I had been doing lately.

‘Cornerstone’ was not an easy story to find. It was actually a part of a journal by somebody called Donald. It was the documentation of a social worker that consisted of five stories. Somebody had filed his non profit organization with ‘Freedom of Information’ request. Thus, he had to summarize his activities and made it public. But he was smarter and got the one p, when he released the whole document in Japanese and titled it “Soseki”.

I took the documents that had to go from paper to college records and sat across Amaan. I whipped the laptop in front of me and pressed the power button. In the meantime, I pressed a button my table and a maid appeared. I requested a double Glenfiddich on rocks and she disappeared after giving a soft nod. I looked at Amaan and saw her staring at me. I rose my eyebrows as in ‘What?’. She smiled softly and shook her head. The maid entered the room and handed me the glass half full of dark liquid. I took a sip before I started typing.

“Soseki”, which literally translated to ‘Cornerstone’ had one very interesting story. The fifth story chronologically, was of an Arabic couple he helped. The husband’s name was nowhere to be found, and the focus was on one Arabic woman. The one he left in Nepal. The one named Amaan. However, I skipped almost all of it and went to a section named ‘Follow-Up’. it included the conversations between Donald and Amaan a little while after her rescue. The section was not as fleshed out as others. However, one word seemed out of place that Donald used to describe Amaan. “LIBERATED.”

I had been at work for three hours nonstop. During all that time, Amaan stole multiple glances at me. I could tell. Although, I gave her the reason for doing so. There were eight empty glasses with sips of whisky and rum on my table, with ninth one on the way. I was still sharp, and it did not get in my way of job. Still, it was out of ordinary for me, which made me a target for Amaan. She had been sucking on the back of her pen while having her eyes locked on me. I was paying the attention no mind. I had much different things on my mind. And a single nudge would push me off the cliff.

The world ‘LIBERATED’ seemed so out of place to me that it set off obvious flags in my mind. Liberation from what, I asked myself. Wouldn’t ‘freedom’ suit her much more. Wouldn’t ‘carefree’ suit her better? I refused to back down and searched a little more. I changed the VPN and changed the search location to Japan. I searched for the journal in an attempt to stumble across something. Anything! I kept on scrolling for a while when a personal blog by the user PunPun001 popped up. it was an interview.

I had finished my ninth drink of the night, and it started making me feel groggy. It was not extreme, but I did experience a little swing. It was at this point when Amaan spoke to me. What is wrong with you, she asked. I said nothing.

“Wanna rest?”

I shook my head in response.

She stood up and brought some a lemon. She forcefully opened my mouth and squirted the juice on my tongue. I flinched at the sour taste and the effect of alcohol wore off. I looked up and she was holding a glass full of milk. She pushed the glass in my hands, but I resisted. She didn’t back down and forced the glass to my lips. I had no choice but to drink the chilled milk. It had a bitter taste to it. Not much buzz was left now. But something else was building up in me.

An urge to pee. I dashed to the nearest washroom and prayed to god that I was not too late to remove my pants. I was not. I relieved myself and stood up. too fast. It gave me a head rush and the euphoria of liquor translated into a headache. Amaan knocked on the door and I welcomed her. she saw the pitiful state of mine and helped me strip. When I was down to my bare skin, she held my hand and guided me to the bathtub. The porcelain felt cold to the feet. She turned the shower to the icy water and forced me to stand under it. The warm blood played against the play and cold water running against my spine made me tingle. I wanted to curl up like a ball.

I e-mailed PunPun001 about the article and he was happy to help me out. He gave me a background of the interview that he had posted up. it was done by his mother and was an interview of Naomi. She was known as the apprentice-patient of Donald. Atleast, that is how she described herself. In that she reiterates how great Donald is. And in that process, she name dropped Amaan. However, the cream of the crop came when she mentioned anybody could get in contact with these people. The method to reach Amaan was to go to ‘Golden Pie Ten’. PunPun001 did not say anything new after that. I thanked PunPun001 and searched Golden Pie Ten. I could find nothing.

I came out of the shower shaking. The calm smile on Amaan’s face did not resonate with me. She was sitting on the toilet with a white robe in one hand, and a towel in another. She tossed the towel at me. I wiped all curves and crevices on my body. She stood up and walked up to me and extended her hand. I grabbed the robe and tried to pull, but she didn’t let go. I looked at her, still fidgeting. Her stern eyes always made me afraid of her. it was the same right now. She asked me if something was off, I replied with denial. She waited for a second before giving me the robe. I wore it and went back to work. Amaan was not in the room for the remained of the room.

Golden Pie Ten were random words. They didn’t mean anything. They didn’t result into anything. That is what I thought until I realized that she was an Advanced Mathematics professor. She may be direct and straight forward with everything in her life, but it didn’t eliminate the chance of a trick. Her love for numbers was very famous across the university. And that is where I pointed my energy. After fighting with the set of words I had a direction to go in. she was a mathematician, a famous one at that. so I translated her speech into number. I translated the word by their corresponding number in English alphabets. The set of numbers that turned around was 715124514 1695 20514. Nothing. I added them all and came up with 57 30 39. Still nothing. I added everything up. 126. Nothing. I was on the verge of pulling my hair off the scalp when it struck me. It was so simple, and yet, it was just now that I realized it.

There was a golden in maths too. The Golden Ratio. 1:1.6. And there was a pie in maths too. Pi. 3.14. Ten. 10?! I searched for 1:1.6 3.14 10. Different results came up, nothing pointing towards Amaan. I thought about it and kept on trying different combination when I searched for 116-3.141592. That is when my laptop’s antivirus kicked in and denied me from observing the results. It piqued my interest and I turned my antivirus off. Then, I clicked on the search button again.

The headache that I had after staring at a bright screen drunk was daunting. It was not easy for me to stand up after that, but I did. I made my way out of the room and down the staircase. The dark corridor were lit up by red lamps. I was thankful of Amaan. I neared her room and could see the lights were still on. I entered the room without knocking and saw Amaan naked, trying on her strap-on. The bed was littered with various sizes and colors of dildos. No, not just dildos. But collars, cuffs, straps, whips amongst other things. I just stood there, gawking at the various devices, some of them that I had not even seen before. I looked at Amaan, as she stood on top of her robe. He breasts hanging freely in the air. Her nipples erect.

The numbers and the combination were guidelines to a website. Golden ratio and pi together, for ten digits. That would take you to a website titled “Amaan: Liberated Woman”. That word again. ‘Liberated’. I browsed it for a little while and deducted that the website was clearly old. There were tabs like ‘Story’, ‘Updates’, ‘Store’ and ‘Services’. Story tab had her background and where she came from. ‘Updates’ was a kind of blog, more specifically a public diary. The last entry was sixteen months ago. Apparently, she had made her address public. I clicked on the last tab, ‘Services’, and saw nothing but dollar signs. Different links starting from $200, each of them with a text box. I clicked on the $200 option and the text box got highlighted. I typed ‘xyz’ into it and clicked on confirm. Immediately I was brought back to the homepage. What I saw really blew the wind out of my body.

There were pictures of Amaan all over the website. She was not dressed. She was also with someone who was as naked as her. They were joined at groin. Numerous boys, various girls. All of them in their youth. It was a sex website. Amaan was selling her body for money. She was prostituting herself.

I pointed at her devices and asked Amaan about them. She made obvious of her desires and how her hobby turned into obsession. Now she was waiting for my consent.

What a liar. You have already used these toys with someone else, right? I have seen the pictures, I wanted to say to her.

The pictures of her having sex with David from basketball team. Him fingering her vagina while he inserted his thick penis in her asshole. The pictures of her licking that nerdy library assistant’s clitoris while she gripped her hand with Amaan’s hair. The selfies Frag twins took while Amaan was involved into a threesome. The panorama of various stages in which Wade jerked off on her naked body.

I had seen them all.

I had downloaded all of them on my phone.

And when I felt Amaan’s hand pinching my arm, I recoiled with disgust. She was cheating on me the whole time. And with multiple people. Sometimes at the same time. The frequency of uploads was three times a week. Every day I was not working.

Every day I was in my room, waiting for Amaan’s call, she was getting screwed with one of her students. She was more than experienced with sex toys. And she wanted to taint me with it. She wanted to cuff me to the same bed she had ejaculated with a stranger. She wanted to used the same toys, same techniques on my body as she had done on various others. She wanted me to consent just like everyone who paid her for sex.

“Amaan, I have some questions for you. Will you answer truthfully?”

“Yes, what is it?”

“Golden Pie Ten-what do those words mean to you?”

Amaan stood there for a long second before she unclasped her strap on. She let the concoction drop on the ground and took small steps towards the door. I could see her bare back and round buttocks, all the things I loved. But in this moment, I felt sorry, pity, guilt and repugnance for Amaan. she closed the door and I turned around, not wanting to see her.

She took small steps in my direction. I could hear the unrhythmic steps her feet took. I clenched my fist to control my rage. My body was going red hot with anger with every passing second. It was not long now. She had covered most of the distance. I just hoped she’d answer truthfully.

The small thuds that came from her steps stopped. She was directly behind me. Still silent. I couldn’t wait any longer and wanted to see her face. How would she make her face when she was caught red handed?

I turned around and saw her hands over her right shoulder. She was holding something.

And then, she swung.

The wooden bat struck my temple, and the side of my body struck the nearing wall. my head was rattled.

I crumbled like a sack of cards. I lost vision in m left eye. The last thing I saw was naked Amaan with a bright yellow baseball bat, doused in red.

Everything went blank.