Atlantea Ch. 03

Late the following Saturday, I found myself, once again, at Phoebe and Rosalind's house. Clad in boxer shorts, and nothing else, my body was completely hairless from the neck down. My skin had barely recovered from a withering session with Marta, Rosie's favorite Brazilian wax specialist.

I had a bad feeling, that Monday, when entering the hair removal clinic she had sent me to. Marta, the technician, was a middle-aged Russian woman who almost certainly had been a powerlifter. She did not ask me any questions, since Rosie had already briefed her on exactly what to do. This consisted of removing every hair, no matter how small, from my entire body, including around my scrotum and ass. It also included anal bleaching, which was the rudest surprise of all. Although, to be honest, by that point in the treatment, I was in so much pain from Marta's ruthless ministrations that I was beyond caring.

Adding insult to injury, when Marta first saw my penis she had said, dismissively, "Eh, my hosband's was beeger," needlessly answering a question nobody had asked.

Days later, in their living room, Thorn was walking around me in a circle, inspecting the meticulous Russian's handiwork.

"Marta really does do such good work, wouldn't you say, Pet?"

"Yes, Miss Thorn."

True to her word, Thorn increased the intensity of this session. She herself had switched to a red version of her costume, which was otherwise the same as before. Pet was completely nude, save her dog collar, and was presently waiting patiently on her hands and knees. She was facing away from me with her legs spread, providing a clear view of her vagina and anus. Unlike before, Thorn had attached a leash to the collar, and I could see the flared end of a butt-plug in her ass. Thorn kept it inside of Pet all night, only removing it when my dick needed to occupy the same space.

The dick in question was pointing straight out, both from anticipation of what was to come, and a backlog of sexual frustration. Unlike the previous week, Phoebe had been too tired all week to suck me off. Although I had gotten myself off instead, there was no comparison to having oral sex with my best friend, and I felt correspondingly horny. My boxers were extended in front of me, making an embarrassing tent. Thorn pointedly ignored this obvious protrusion, and, from there, events proceeded largely as they had before. I was shackled and placed under the sheet, and Thorn directed the two of them as they penetrated their holes with my condom-clad dick.

Thorn did have three major surprises for me. One was that the enormous ball-gag that I had worn last time was replaced with a similar-sized gag that also featured a short, wide dildo extending upwards from my mouth. Although still covered by the sheet, as last time, both women were able to grind their vaginas on it at various points throughout the night. In Pet's case, she was forced to rub on it by her mistress, and in Thorn's case, I think she just wanted to dominate me a little more by smothering my head with her pussy. Several times that evening, while Pet was riding my dick, Thorn used the mouth toy to get herself off, drenching my face with her cum each time.

The second surprise was that, after I had come inside Pet's vagina and ass one time each, Thorn squatted over my midsection and peed all over, the powerful jet of odorless fluid saturating the sheet completely, and accumulating a puddle under my butt. While turned around, so that she couldn't see, she directed Pet to remove the sheet, remove the condom, drink the cum from it, and then herself pee all over my exposed genitalia, too. This last part was, according to Thorn, intended to "clean the toy up", although none of us really believed that.

Most surprising of all, though, was that after Thorn dismounted me, having just had me come inside her pussy, she made all three of us take Viagra. For me, the idea was to make sure I could get hard for longer. In the case of the two women, I found out later they'd done some research on the Internet, and had discovered that it had a similar effect on their vaginas as well, causing increased blood flow and intensity of experience.

Our session lasted over twice the duration of the previous one, and by the end I'd come three times in Pet's ass, twice in her pussy, once in Thorn's pussy, and three times in her ass. Even after all of that, I had a Viagra-driven erection that would not die down, so Rosalind left the room while exhausted, sweat-drenched Phoebe sucked me off, swallowing two loads before my dick finally went limp for the night.

As on the previous Saturday, the night ended with a pow-wow on the couch. All three of us were wearing bathrobes, and I was pleased to find out that they had bought me a larger one since the previous session; last time I'd used one of theirs, and it had barely covered my nakedness. They had also, thoughtfully, bought me a toothbrush, so I could freshen up my mouth. Both women were being affectionate and loving with each other, and were going through which parts of the evening they'd enjoyed the most.

"The best was that butt-plug," Phoebe said, "that sucker really stretched me out. I couldn't believe when you'd put it back in right after his dick. Fuckin' brutal!"

They double-checked with me whether I had had fun too, and all I could do was grin stupidly. Shortly before I headed for home, Phoebe went to the bathroom, and Rosalind took the opportunity to ask me, in a hushed tone, "Does Phee seem off to you, Jason?"

"I think she really enjoyed things tonight, if that's what you mean. I'm not sure I've ever seen her any happier."

"No, it's not that. I mean yes, I do agree she had fun. It's just, she seems... off."

"Well, now you mention it, she does seem extra tired. Even considering what the three of us were up to. And she was too tired for us to do our oral sex thing all week too."

"You mean your throat fucking?" Rosalind said, ribbing me for being needlessly delicate.

Before we could finish the discussion, Phoebe returned, yawning.

"Time to hit the hay, y'all!" she said sleepily.

* * *

The following Tuesday afternoon, after putting in a few hours of work on my thesis, I took the bus to an expensive cafe near Rosalind's work. The two women had asked me to meet them there. They wouldn't tell me what it was all about, and I was nervous that they were going to inform me that our sexual adventures were going to come to an end for some reason.

They had already been seated, when I arrived, and a pretty, well-dressed hostess showed me over to their brightly-lit table. It was next to a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows looking onto the bustling street. After exchanging greetings, they both stared up at me with trepidation. They were more nervous than when they'd proposed our crazy sex sessions in the first place. My stomach felt like it was falling through the floor; it appeared my worst fears were about to be realized.

"Um, Jason," Rosalind started. "We kind of have something to tell you, and it's sorta embarrassing, and hopefully you won't--"

"I'm pregnant," Phoebe cut in.

I must have had the world's worst poker face, at that moment, because both women were visibly taken aback by my reaction.

"You look... relieved?" Rosalind asked.

"I thought you were here to call off our Saturday sex sessions!"

"Oh, God no!" Rosalind said. "But, I guess I'm surprised you're not, upset or something? I mean, Phee's pregnant!"

"Sorry, I was so sure you guys were going to 'break up' with me," I said, making air quotes with my hands, "it hasn't really sunk in yet."

My initial reaction, to be honest about it, was to get an erection. This seemed wholly immature, though, and I did not tell them about it. The first useful thought to cross my mind, after this spontaneous reaction, was that it felt odd to have gotten my best friend pregnant. Our relationship was, other than the crazy quasi-sex, no different from the Platonic friendship I would have had with a male best friend. I sat silently for a full minute, keeping my mouth shut to avoid saying anything dumb.

Gradually, all of these thoughts and emotions were swept aside by an up-welling of concern for Phoebe's well-being. I was not sure that she ever wanted to get pregnant; of the two of them, Rosalind had seemed far more likely to be the one to choose to carry a child. Granted, this notion was based on cultural stereotypes rather than any direct knowledge of the two women's feelings.

"I think," I said, at last, "I mostly just want to make sure you're okay, Phee."

I took her hand in mine. Both women relaxed visibly.

"Thanks, Jason, you're such an amazing friend. I am actually okay. Surprisingly okay. I definitely never thought this would be, you know, a thing for me."

"I was always the one who was going to have a baby," Rosalind interjected, "But I kept putting it off. I was scared I guess. And, honestly, now that Phee's pregnant, I've realized it's not actually something I would be comfortable with, after all."

Phoebe took her guilty-looking wife's hand.

"It's a little scary for me, too," Phoebe said, "but I am going to go ahead with it, and I... to be honest, I'm looking forward to it more than I would have expected."

There was momentary pause as her words sunk in.

"Look, Jason, I'm not going to pretend to ask for your approval here. It is my body," she added.

"Of course!" I said.

"But I would like your," she continued, "support, if you'll give it."

"It would mean a lot to her, and me too, for what that's worth," Rosalind added.

"Phoebe," I said seriously, squeezing her hand and taking Rosalind's as well, "I will support both of you in any way I can, as much as I can, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart."

Rosalind and Phoebe started to cry. A stray drop even rolled down my cheek. The three of us hugged across the little table and were silent for a few minutes.

"Just to be clear," Phoebe said at last, "we don't want you to be Dad. This going to be a strictly two mommies situation."

"That's fine!" I said, then added, "But can I be Uncle?"

"Yes, you can be Uncle Jay," Phoebe said with a smile.

"I'd like that, too," added her wife. "Also, and I guess this is getting ahead of ourselves, could you be with me at the birth? If it's okay with you, of course, Phee?"

"Fine with me," Phoebe said, in mock exasperation. "It's not as if he hasn't seen my junk already."

With this, she gave a pointed look at her blushing wife. The waiter, who had been hovering discretely, came over to take our orders, and we passed a pleasant hour chatting with each other. Now that the big reveal was over, I felt happier and happier as the minutes rolled by. Then a thought struck me.

"So hang on a second, ladies," I said, "how did this actually happen?"

"Didn't your parents teach you about the birds and the bees, Jason?" Rosalind asked sweetly.

"Not that, but I just kinda assumed you all were on the pill?"

"Well, I am!" Rosalind said.

"And I'm, obviously, not," Phoebe said, face reddening. "Actually I can't take it. I tried once, but it had some weird side effects -- I'll spare you the details -- and the doc said I had to stop."

"Okay, so you two do know that condoms aren't exactly the most effective birth control?"

"I sure do now!" Phoebe said, pointing at her still-flat tummy.

"It's kind of something we're not that familiar with," Rosalind explained sheepishly. "Never been an issue before?"

To this day, I'm not entirely sure if I believe that Rosalind was being honest, at this moment. It has occurred to me, on more than one occasion since then, that perhaps she wanted Phoebe to get pregnant, so that she herself wouldn't have to go through giving birth. But there was no way I was going to accuse her of that; both of them seemed as joyous as I'd ever seen them, and it would have been mean to spoil that with my suspicions.

"So, with that out of the way, are you free next Saturday?" Phoebe asked.

"I'll be there with bells on!"

I hung around the table by myself after Rosalind paid the check and the two of them left together, claiming I was going to wait for an Uber to pick me up. The reality was that my dick had been hard throughout the entire meal, and I needed a few minutes for it to soften before I stood up. Apparently getting Phoebe pregnant was a massive turn-on for me. I had had no idea. Meg and I had once discussed possibly having kids some day, but at the time it had not seemed erotic. I wasn't sure what to make of this development. Would I feel the same way about impregnating a different woman, or was this effect related to Phoebe? I was to find out sooner than I thought.

* * *

The following Saturday turned out to be a much lighter version than even our first three-way encounter. Thorn was being gentler with Pet, now that she was carrying their child. A few days later, Phoebe asked me for another favor. I was finally starting to feel like the balance was evening out between us.

"Do you remember Rhea?" Phoebe asked, referring to her friend, the post-doc in the Department of Public Health, for whom I'd filled out a lengthy survey about breastfeeding within my extended family.

"Sure! Does she have another study for me to join?"

"No, this favor is for Rosie and me. Well, some of our friends, actually. But Rhea did give us the idea."

"Tell me more," I said, intrigued.

"Well, so I told Rhea I was pregnant. I know you're not supposed to this early, but I just had to tell someone and kinda blurted it out. And, y'know what's weird, I think she already knew? She was looking at me funny even before."

"Well, her whole job right now seems to be to study pregnant women, I guess, or at least recently-pregnant ones."

"True. Anyway, when I told her, she got, like, insanely excited. And of course asked me all about how it had happened. She assumed I'd used some kind of sperm donor, or maybe a relative of Rosie's or something. I gave her a kind of edited version of how it actually happened, and she was fascinated. It was almost weird, to be honest, even if she does study this stuff for a living. Anyway, she suggested Rosie and I ask some of our friends if they'd, uh, like to use the same mechanism?"

"I'd be surprised if anyone would take you up on that."

"Wrong! There's seven that wanna do it."

"Wait, what?" I exclaimed.

We were sitting on the couch and my cock stiffened rapidly. Phoebe looked down at my midsection.

"I think I already know what your answer is," she said, half-jokingly.

I blushed, but persisted in my skepticism.

"Wait, these women are lesbians right?"

"Ever last one of 'em!"

"And they want to have sex with me?"

"No, they way to have sex with Miss Thorn's amazingly life-like organic sex toy."

"And get pregnant."

"And that, yes."

My cock was straining at my pants. Rather than continue the conversation, Phoebe knelt in front of me, unzipped my fly, pulled my dick through my boxer shorts, and put it in her mouth. She had to suck me off twice, both times swallowing every drop, before it would calm down again.

"You, uh," Phoebe said wickedly, "really seem to get off on the idea of knocking us ladies up."

"If I tried to deny it, would you believe me?"

"No," Phoebe said flatly. "Anyway, there's another thing. I told Rhea about the Viagra we used that one time, and she said she had something much better she could hook you up with, although sadly it would not work for Rosie and me to take it."

"She just happens to have super secret mega Viagra just lying around?"

"No dummy, her PI knows someone at some biotech startup. I guess they're in the late stages of a trial. It's totally safe; they're just wrapping up FDA approval. She could get you in."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I even have the waiver here, you just need to sign it, and she can give us the sample for free."

"What's supposed to be better about it?" I asked, still not convinced.

Phoebe looked at some notes she had taken on her phone.

"Let's see here: you can take it as little as five minutes in advance, there is no chance of headaches, it lasts for 24 hours, and you also won't get, um, unwanted extra boners like those two you got that last time. Which I'll be thankful for, by the way. Remember who had to get them to go away last time?"

The lack of headaches sealed it for me. The day after I had taken Viagra I'd felt a raging pain behind my eyes. I signed the form. I was still slightly dubious about this supposed miracle drug, but Phoebe seemed sincere, and, as always, I wanted to make her happy.

After that, we went through the logistics of how the impregnation would be conducted. One critical part was that I was to play act as if all of this was a surprise, for Rosalind's benefit, even though she had full knowledge of the conversation Phoebe and I were having.

"Rosie really gets into her role!" I commented.

"You have no idea," Pet agreed.

For the next few days, I went back and forth about whether I should go through with having seven more children, even if I wouldn't be raising them, or even necessarily know who the moms were. I could not come up with any moral objections to it; surely these women would have kids one way or another, if they wanted to conceive in this unusual fashion, why not? Ultimately I realized that I was only having an internal debate on the matter to distract myself from a more central issue: I was really turned on by the idea, and had no idea where that came from.

* * *

Two and a half weeks later, long enough for the future moms all to get off of birth control, I was back at Phoebe's house, standing naked, again save for my boxer shorts, in the living room. Miss Thorn was standing in front of me wearing a tight-fitting Halloween doctor's costume, complemented with a real stethoscope from the university hospital. Pet was naked, save for her usual collar, leash, and, in a new twist, thick, padded leather blindfold buckled solidly around her eyes. Thorn's jealous nature had, it turned out, not softened at all, and she did not want her wife to see the other women naked, even on this unusual night. I also was not allowed to see any of the women at all, nor were they allowed to see any part of me except for my condom-clad penis, which would, as usual, extend from the hole in the center of the sheet.

I had taken Rhea's super Viagra, or whatever it was, about an hour earlier. Contrary to my expectations, it had not come in pill form. I had to squeeze it out from an odd, disposable metallic tube. I could not identify the metal the curious container was made out of. As far as I could tell, it was a flexible carbon fiber of some sort. The cap was unusual too, heptagonal instead of hexagonal or circular, as one would normally expect.

As directed, I swallowed all four ounces of the gel that came out. The citrus-flavored paste contained small, flavorless granules the size and consistency of poppy seeds. Nothing happened, at first, and then I was overcome by a sharp wave of nausea. For a split-second, I thought I might vomit, but the feeling passed as rapidly as it had come on, and I soon forgot all about the odd sensation. Thinking more about the sex I was about to have than anything else, I threw the empty tube away, something I ended up regretting much later.

* * *

"Toy," Dr. Thorn said to me, "Pay attention!"

My eyes had drifted down to Pet's hairy, exposed vagina. As before, she was on all fours. As had been the case the last time we'd gotten together, I noted the butt plug from last time was missing, and Thorn was to go much easier on her submissive wife in other ways, too, no doubt because of her pregnancy. Now around six weeks in, Pet was showing a barely perceptible baby bump.

"Tonight, Toy, I have decided to put you to a better use. Since we have discovered," here she gestured down at Pet, "that my toy has one other useful function beyond pleasuring us, I have decided that it will be used to inseminate some friends of mine. They would prefer to conceive with a method I have vetted, rather than an anonymous sperm donor, artificial insemination, or, worst of all, intercourse with an actual male. Do you understand?"