Harem Mode - ON Ch. 01

"That goes to all of you. Locker room is for changing, not for gossip and bubble baths!"

Stanton left for the gym, letting Chet feel like a minor hero for helping drop the hammer on AJ and Ben. The previously silent changers now were patting him on the back.

"Good job, Chet."

"I live in an apartment too, man. They're total dicks."

But the good vibes weren't going to last.

Jackasses aside, PE was Chet's second favorite class because he shared it with several cute girls, including Kayla. Seeing her in tight shorts and a light T-shirt was heaven. She'd put in so much effort that it'd be drenched in sweat, and the outlines of her blue bra became apparent through the wet fabric.

By this year in high school, boys and girls had separate PE classes, but there were many occasions where the different classes within a period would interact with each other, like team sports and dancing. This week was fitness exams, so they'd share the gym while they underwent the state tests.

Now, for whatever reason, Chet was exceptionally good at pull-ups. It was the one area he scored consistently well on. He had strong back and lat muscles relative to his body weight. And because there weren't enough adults to proctor all of the exams, they'd have some of the boys test the girls, and some of the girls test the boys. These student helpers were the ones who volunteered to go first and get their tests out of the way. And Kayla, being at the top of her class, volunteered every time.

Chet watched her and another blonde girl, Tracy, walk over to his side of the gym, firm and toned legs alternating stride as hips swayed and breasts bounced. Kayla had her headband on, always a nice accessory for wavy hair. She held a clipboard and pencil confidently in both hands. Fitness was the world she lived in, and Chet couldn't wait for the guys in front of him to be finished so he could show off.

"Okay, boys. The state fitness standard is 11 pull-ups, but the average last year was 7 and a half. The boys at Jefferson have us beat by just half a pull-up, so let's all give it our best effort and show them who's on top!"

It was just so darn cute how much she cared about school spirit.

It didn't seem to matter though, as everyone was tapping out after 5 or 6. Kayla's face frowned as she noted the sub-par numbers on the clipboard, her button nose wrinkled in disappointment.

"Quit mucking around, boys! Let's get serious!"

Chet suppressed a grin. Right in front of him were Ben and AJ, two of the most un-athletic clowns to ever disgrace Madison High. Not only would he have a chance to outshine them, it'd be in front of the school's Number 2.

Another boy plopped clumsily to his feet from the bar. "Good god, I'm worthless," he groaned.

Ben went in after him, taking several attempts to even reach the bar. He finally gripped it with his sweaty palms and made a high-pitched whine as he tried to bring up his pudgy torso.

"Your chin didn't clear the bar, so that one doesn't count. Try again," Kayla stated matter-of-factly, her accent making some of the words come out as 'bah' and 'agayn'.

Ben gave up and fell to the floor.

"I'm going to put you down for two, Benny, even though you didn't go all the way down after the first one."

AJ was even worse. He wasn't as fat as Ben, but his skinny bird arms were only good for picking his nose. He couldn't manage even one. Kayla frowned and drew a big goose egg next to his name, circling around with her several times for emphasis.

Chet cockily strolled over to the bar, ignoring the derisive looks of Ben and AJ, who were expecting him to flop. Even though it was impossible for him to do worse than AJ did, they were probably going to shit on him anyway.

Kayla was looking down at the clipboard, starting to look bored.

"Hey," was all Chet could say to get her to pay attention.

"Whoops, sorry Chet." Chet loved the way his name sounded in her Strine.

He leapt up to grab the pole, then brought his hands apart to the appropriate distance, and quickly pulled himself up above the bar. He steadily brought himself down to complete the pull-up.

"One."


The second one came just as easy, and soon he was back down to a V position.

"Two."

"Three."

"Fo-ah."

"Foiv."

"Six."

This was getting good. He was already tied now with the best so far, and his biceps showed no sign of slipping or weakening. His lats were doing great, too. He pumped out three more, noticing the rising excitement in Kayla's voice.

"Seven, eight, nine. Aces, Chet! Keep it up!"

His biceps were starting to pinch a little bit, more so than his lats did, but the adrenaline was kicking in. A sense of motivation and urgency seemed to lift him up into the air like he was being held by angels. His face got serious and he took in sharp breaths.

"Tenelefentweilve. Slow down a little, Chet."

"Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen."

"He's doing really good," said the girl next to her. He was drowning out everything except for the sound of Kayla's voice, but he caught this little bit of encouragement too.

"Sixteen."

He started slowing down, but he had not sacrificed form. The sinews in his arms were starting to burn up, and sweat was forming between his palms and the bar. The next pull-up required more willpower than the last three combined.

"Seventeen, don't give up!"

He went down all the way and let himself suspend in the air for a little bit to recover. His hair was wet against his forehead. If he had been paying attention to the ground, he would have noticed Ben and AJ shoot each other a knowing look.

"Come on, Chet! You can do it!" Kayla piped up in genuine encouragement and enthusiasm. Tracy joined in. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth, staring straight up at the ceiling. The light was directly above his face, pulsating in his retinas as a green after-image. The world outside ceased to exist.

"Eighteen!" Kayla's voice was the only thing that pierced the silence. It felt weird, having her cheer him on so strongly. It was almost as if she were begging him to continue.

"I'll give you a hug if you make twenty!" She chirped. A wave of jealous and/or approving grunts spread throughout the boys.

Her words were like a tiny hit of cocaine. Of course, Chet didn't know what that felt like, and neither do I. Regardless, he pulled himself together and strained for the bar again.

"Nineteen! You're almost there! Chet! Chet! Chet!"

Popular as she was, no one joined Kayla in chanting Chet's name. Even Tracy was shooting her a funny glance. But that was alright, Kayla's encouragement was sufficient. He didn't need to be a hero for the boys.

Chet was delirious. The promise of a sweaty hug from Kayla was encouragement enough, but it was also great to have a set number to reach, after which he could finally let go. He strained upwards, feeling the wind against his face. And... against his crotch.

"Take that, loser!"

"Oh shit, Ben, we got his underpants too."

Chet opened his eyes and looked down. There was his little dong, flaccid and unimpressive. Right next to it, from his perspective, was Kayla's open mouth. The clipboard was on the floor. The silence was deafening, and could be heard from across the whole gym. Everyone was looking.

Being a grower and not a shower never bothered him before in his life. Now he wished he could just take his penis, stretch it out into a rope, and hang himself with it. In that moment, hanging in the air, half-naked in front of a crowd of spectators, with this grinning tormentors by his sides, arms and body wracked in pain, Chet knew a little bit how Jesus must have felt that day.

Chet dropped to the ground and pulled his gym shorts up quietly. "Dude." Was all he could say. He sat down and stared at the ground.

Ben and AJ stopped smiling as Kayla closed the distance between them and slapped both of them on the cheek. "Jerks!" She yelled, before running over to the other side of the gym with the rest of the girls.

Chet looked up to see Tracy, who was less sensitive than her friend. She had a sympathetic look on her eyes, but she had her hand over her mouth, clearly trying to suppress a giggle.

No one talked to Chet in the locker room afterwards. Ben and AJ were sent to the principal's office, probably to be suspended or maybe even expelled, but that was of little comfort to him.

At least sixty classmates saw Chet's flaccid schmeckle. Now that he was thinking rationally again, Chet wished he had acted faster to cover up.

The coach and one of the counselors told Chet that he could go home early for the day, but he decided to stay for his last period. His coach gave him an approving nod, admiring his courage, but the real reason was his mother was home and he didn't want to attract her suspicion by coming home early. The stories were surely going to spread throughout the school, but there was no harm in going to Workshop, because no one who saw him that day was going to be there.

But he might as well have left school early and spent the hour doing something else, because he was completely distracted.

It was a bad day to not pay attention, either, since today they were introducing a new power tool. Barely any of the safety presentation sank in. Chet could only think about the impression he made on the second hottest (and in his opinion, hottest) girl at school. He was even wondering what could have happened if he played with it a little bit beforehand, if he had more of a chub going on when they pulled down his pants. Would she have been impressed? Would she have mentally compared it to Josh's?

His thoughts were penetrated by a clanking sound. Chet hadn't properly clamped his workpiece. Both of his hands were on his tool, so the freshly cut piece of wood flew toward him with the sharpened end flying into the unprotected side of his head.

Chet didn't even have the time to hear the horrified cries of his classmates and teacher before his head hit the floor and all went black.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Chet, or at least, Chet's consciousness, sank through the floor as pandemonium took over the classroom. He had a worm's eye view of the commotion going above him in a square that approximated the workshop floor. He could only see the bottoms of everyone's feet, and black rectangles where the work stations were situated on the ground. Lying supine on the ground was Chet's body, a black silhouette against the dimming colors of the room. A piece of wood stuck out of the head like a horn.

As he sank deeper and deeper, Chet started to realize that the body on the ground was him, and that he had died. There was no longer a body attached to the consciousness that was witnessing the sights above him. He tried to move around, to glimpse at anything resembling a torso or legs or arms, but he didn't even have a nose between his eyes to look at. In fact, he didn't even have eyes at all.

"So I must be a ghost," Chet's disembodied mind thought to itself. "But why am I sinking?"

Panic set in. "Fuck! Am I going to hell?! Oh god!"

He kept sinking into the earth, and the square of color above him shrank until it was a pinprick of light, then disappeared entirely. Without light, everything around him was pure blackness. Chet had no voice to scream, no arms or hands to cling to a rock or buried pipe in the ground as he fell, not even fingernails with which to claw hopelessly at the earth.

But if he was sinking towards Hell, shouldn't he be feeling a growing heat? In fact, now that everything was black, without a body he couldn't tell if he was even moving. He could be stationary for all he knew.

But that was just as terrifying. An eternity alone, in pitch blackness, with nothing but your own thoughts? No sensation, no company, no change? Chet didn't want to exist like this. He had a life of his own. He had a mother who would be devastated by his death, and at least a couple of friends who would be deeply troubled. What did he spend all those hours working and studying for if it all ended in a chunk of wood to the face?


And even worse, to die a complete virgin. Not even a real, genuine kiss to the lips that wasn't from some drunk girl who was feeling insecure. There were girls he could have had meaningful relationships if he were only a little more courageous and a little less picky in his life. Now the only sexual act to capstone his life was exposing himself to a pretty girl. And not even that, since he was exposed against his will.

Well, Kayla, I hope you liked it.

Sighing, Chet quickly resolved himself to a state of acceptance. Of course his life would end this way. It made perfect sense. From the beginning the world was leaving him little clues that he wouldn't amount to anything, or have any cool experiences, or do anything of note.

I'm sorry, mom.

Chet did the spiritual equivalent of closing his eyes and hung there in the darkness. It didn't seem like he was going to Hell, so he had that to be thankful for. At least this was quiet and peaceful.

GAME OVER, TRY AGAIN? Y/N

What?

The Y and N blinked, alternating in brightness. Game over, what did that mean? He just died, Chet thought, but that couldn't be it. His life was a game? And what is with this yes/no nonsense? Try again? That can't be what he thought it meant. No way do people get a second chance. At least, not regular people like him.

But the screen just hovered there. White text against a blank landscape. It wasn't even clear if the words existed in any material way. All of this could just be happening in his mind.

Chet couldn't resist the temptation."Yes," he thought. The white Y grew bigger and bigger until it eclipsed everything else. It felt like he was being sucked into the Y, and a field of white.

The world became dark again. A whole series of numbers and letters started filing in from the right, forming an orderly, neat column. He started reading them.

August 26, 2012, 11:05 PM

That was the first entry. Or last, as the rest were in descending order.

August 25, 2012, 11:03 PM

August 25, 2012, 2:29 AM

August 23, 2012, 11:24 PM

Chet started piecing it together. These were the times he went to sleep. He didn't go to sleep on Friday the 24th. Technically he fell asleep the following Saturday morning because he stayed up all night playing Diablo III.

He looked down the list until he couldn't look down any further.Man, I wish there were some way to scroll down.

Suddenly, a gloved hand materialized out of thin air. He 'looked' at it. It turned around, showing its palm and backside. Chet realized he was controlling it. He wiggled the fingers.

Here goes nothing.

He reached forward with the hand until it just barely lit up one of the dates, then, like in all his games, he flung his hand upward, causing the list to move up in the same direction. The numbers rapidly scrolled down. He could vaguely see the Augusts turning into July's and Junes, but he could more clearly see the numbers in 2012 changing more slowly until the 2 in front changed into a 1, and he was in the 1990s.

The last entry in the list bounced as if it were held down by a springy glue, then steadied itself for comfortable reading. It was the night of his birthday.

Damn, so I can go back all the way in time and start over? Not even sure if I want that.


Chet had no idea what going back even meant. Would it be starting again from that point in time, free to make decisions, or it did it mean just reliving the same experiences all over again to that flying beam of wood? It'd certainly be more entertaining than just sitting still doing nothing.

Chet scrolled all the way back up to the top, and hit the latest entry, for last night. Once again, white light overtook the darkness before fading away again.

Yet again, new words and numbers filled the darkness. But the impact this time was even more jarring and unsettling.

The top line was Chet's name, gender and age, to the day. Beneath that was a line that said:

SCORE: 0000000162LEVEL: 003XP: 295/300FREE POINTS: 12

He didn't have to read any further to already be confused, but the next lines read:

ATTRIBUTES:

INTELLIGENCE:3

CHARM:3

STRENGTH:4

DEXTERITY:2

LUCK:1

Wait, is that out of 5? Or 10?

ATTRIBUTES HAVE A MAX VALUE OF 100

Shit!

Chet saw that he had 12 free points to spend and felt a little better about his situation. But then he started feeling skeptical. How was intelligence and charm quantified? How could they be boiled down into single values? He decided to go with it for now, and selected the intelligence section. It expanded into another list of items.

G FACTOR2

MEMORY3

LEARNING2

PERCEPTION4

DEDUCTION4

PLANNING2

CREATIVITY4

COMMUNICATION3

SPATIAL3

Chet groaned at the long list of items, not certain of what half of them even meant, though he could accurately deduce that they averaged out to 3. He really was a dunce.Well, it couldn't hurt to start spending points here, he thought. But then he hesitated. What if the other attributes were important too? He moved on to the charm table.

CONFIDENCE2

COMMUNICATION3

EMPATHY5

MATURITY2

PERSUASIVENESS3

BODY LANGUAGE2

ADAPTABILITY4

LOOKS3

That's when Chet really started going through the rabbit hole, searching up all the characteristics in each category. He was paralyzed, not sure of how to spend his free points. When he 'swiped' back to the first 'page', he noticed that he had missed entire sections.

Right underneath the list of attributes was a section entitled BODY. He touched it with his gloved hand.

All of a sudden, a giant naked Chet filled up his field of vision. In it was an exact replica of his body, down to the smallest bump, freckle and mole. The eyes were staring blankly at him. It was a view of himself he had never seen before. As Chet 'looked' around the surface of his body, hundreds of little labels and tags appeared and disappeared as they came in and out of focus. His focus narrowed down on the organ that caused him so much trouble earlier in the gym. Immediately, several tags popped open.

PENIS

TESTIS (LEFT)

TESTIS (RIGHT)

And it listed several complicated measurements detailing various flaccid and erect lengths, circumferences, volumes, etc, and statistics showing how they compared to other men. Apparently his erect penis was roughly at the 50th percentile, at 5.7 inches, but his flaccid was below average at 34th, with 3.2 inches.

Without even thinking, Chet blurted "Apply point." His pool went down from 12 to 11, and a white glow came over his penis, adding a quarter inch to erect length, and slightly less to his flaccid. Impulsively, Chet spent two more points without thinking. He was now nearly 6.5" erect, and 4" flaccid.

Shit, I have to be more careful with these. Chet looked at his free points with concern, but smiled at his new hog. He was now in the 80th percentile in all measurements. He would have to come back to this once he's earned more points.

If that's even possible. I have reserve these for intelligence and more important things.

Chet spent about another two hours poring through and deliberating each choice, in contrast to his willy-nilly willy enhancements. Finally, a text box came up, asking.

CONFIRM CHOICES? Y/N

What the hell, why not? Chet hit yes.

=ZZZ=ZZZ=ZZZ=ZZZ=ZZZ=ZZZ=ZZZ=ZZZ=ZZZ=ZZZ=ZZZ=ZZZ=ZZZ=ZZZ=ZZZ=ZZZ=

The cool, crisp air of autumn morning seeped through the window cracks. At some point in the night, Chet had kicked the blanket to the floor. The morning cold seized him by the ribs.

Chet blinked his eyes open. His head felt fine. He actually felt well-rested. But it was too damn early and too damn cold to get up, especially for a thing like school.