Start the Revolution without Me

Inspired by the New Order universe created by Freddie Clegg.

***

"Bloody bollocks, they've completely gone off their rockers!" I remarked as I watched the election results being televised.

"Tell me about it. We've seen how much hysteria this 'Me, too' crap started here, to where Al Franken had to resign for some stupid photos. Why in the world would anyone want to vote for this collection of nitwits? Granted, Johnson was an absolute tool, and May before him, but doesn't that show that stupidity is equally shared among the sexes? May is a woman and she was a dithering idiot, completely inept. How bad do things have to be back home to cause them to elect a bunch of misandristic spinsters? I feel awful for the men of England. I wonder if they'll all just leave," my colleague remarked over her beer, yes, I said her.

"You're not on Team Womyn, then?" I teased Nina, who was a fellow Brit in the same pub, seriously rethinking her original plan to come home, "you'd have absolute power over some poor sap who thinks that your arse smells of rose hips instead of something else."

"God's teeth, no! I like being able to fool around and tumble with some bloke, not have him walking around on eggshells near me, groveling and sniveling every time I turn. You watch, England will seriously devolve in the future. You'll see population drop, aging creep up, no matter what forms of artificial reproduction they might devise, and eventually, the economy will suck for everyone. And even if I'm wrong and it prospers, at least in the short term, no form of procreation is half as efficient as what Mother Nature provides.

"Let me see ... an aging population, with a declining tax base, capital flight, anyone fleeing who can somehow escape, a large part of the productive workforce seething under the surface, it's a recipe for disaster worse than Brexit! Bloody fool voters have ruined everything yet again! Democracy can suck my balls!" Nina ranted over her ale, drawing as much attention for her vitriol as for her lovely legs and swarthy skin.

"What do your Mum and Dad think?" I asked her.

"I just got a text from my Mum and Dad. They're both leaving, pronto. Moving back to Punjab. They'd rather deal with Modi's crap than this shite and I don't fucking blame them at all. At least they're Indian nationals, unlike me. They can leave more easily if they wish. No decent Sikh man or woman would put up with this rubbish. Nor would I, and I'm the worst Sikh ever!" Nina laughed at herself a bit.

"At least you'll be able to visit your folks without worrying what you might find. You just have to dodge harassment from some of Modi's thugs. I guess that we're both about to have a little 'Brexit' of our own, eh?" I winked at Nina, who practically rushed at me to put her tongue down my throat.

"Well, I don't know about you, mister, but my 'New Order' involves more of the same. Newcastle Ale, in memory of the England that used to be and will never be again! Farewell, Merry Ole England. I'm gonna miss Big Ben, Parliament House, Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, all of the sights, but most of all, home sweet home, Manchester, rooting for the United, having some proper fish and chips or bangers and mash in a pub with some pints of good Bitter, too.

"Pity the Prince of Wales. He's in for a rude little shock. Don't think that they'll let him be King now, will they? There won't be any kings after this. If I were the Scots, I'd be talking me some independence and pronto. But sounds as if they might have signed onto this, too. Where's the SNP when you really need them? It's like being German in 1933, I think. Watching your beloved homeland toss itself down the crapper, that's just fucking mad!" Nina vented her spleen a bit more.

"In this case, maybe we should make ourselves a little anchor baby and keep them from deporting us back to England while we try for asylum," I half-seriously suggested.

In my half-sauced state especially, Nina sounded like a real catch ... if you left out my dislike of monogamy. I already had one unhappy marriage from which I escaped and with which I coped by cheating frequently. Nina shrugged, planted another kiss on me, and nearly dragged me to the loo, where she commenced to separate me from my knickers and take my whole length down her throat. My foreskin gave her no resistance at all, just peeled back like a banana as she inhaled my prick and took me inside her to the root. I fought the urge to cum, which was just as well, because Nina then bent over the sink and hiked up her skirt to take me balls deep inside her slick and juicy quim.

"Bareback me, Bruce, you randy ol' dog, last of the real Britons! I want that fucking Neanderthal seed of yours in me and I want it now! We'll make an American together, but at least it will be a true Yank, not a phony like that orange buffoon in DC. Fucking take me and knock me up!" Nina egged me on, knowing that I couldn't resist her earthy complexion and her ample bottom.

"God, yes, I want to slam my cock into your cunt like it's going out of style, which back home, it is!" I quipped, knowing that banning sex in the usual sense was likely high on New Order's agenda.

I pounded Nina like my life depended on it, taking and using her for my pleasure as well as hers. This wasn't just casual sex like most of my infidelities (which most often happened away from home, too). It was all about putting my seed inside her and we both knew it. I really wanted to knock Nina up and she wanted me to do it to her, too. God, she was ravishing and sexy as fuck, a woman in every good sense of the word, not full of the bullshit whining that one heard of late from the fair sex. She liked beer, wine, hard liquor, sex, meat, cooking, sex, football, spicy foods, more sex, and you get the idea.

"I have to warn you that I'm a wanton little slut and not likely to be faithful to you," Nina told me upfront now.

"You do realise that you're speaking to the most unfaithful husband in all of Great Britain right now, right? How is your infidelity supposed to be an issue? If anything, it proves that I should divorce my wife, marry you, and we can both stray together! If we catch a social disease, we'll catch it together, so neither can blame the other. What's a little adultery but some adult recreation, nothing more than that? It's a very mature thing to do, contrary to public perception, hence the 'adult' in it!" I chuckled while ramming Nina's slippery snatch.

"Oh, damn, I love you for that! I should have seduced you at that work brunch years ago instead of chickening out. Then you wouldn't have wed Christine and we'd already be together. Of course, I like my job, so we'd have to be secret lovers in that scenario, but we'd still be out of the country at the right moment," Nina encouraged me to breed her and pushed back hard against me.

"You know, I don't even feel guilty about not voting in this last clusterfuck. It's as if I already knew the outcome, so why bother? This election was a bit more rigged than people realise, I believe. It was a plot. Do we even really think that many women hated men enough to vote New Order? Maybe the Russians did it to weaken the West? Maybe they really do hate us, but you don't seem to, at least," I commented as I enjoyed Nina's body some more, cupping her bum while I fucked her from behind.

"Oh, God, I love your hand on my arse ... to think that poor chaps back across the Pond shan't be able to do much of that anymore! They're no fun, the lot of them, the morons who put up with it and the shrewish cunts who impose it. Just fuckin' take me! You'll divorce Christine, we'll quit our present posts, start up our own firm or something, and do what we please!" Nina urged me.

"No, our own church! That's the beauty of it! We'll organize opposition to this kind of faux-feminist garbage behind the cloth of clerics, collect donations, win converts, and make it damn near impossible for anyone to stop us! It will also make it easier to slip our anti-New Order messages past internet censors back home if it's disguised as a New Age religion. Those will draw much less scrutiny than Abrahamic faiths, to put it mildly. We can build up a following here in the States and in Canada, increase pressure on our governments to thwart the New Order regime, and make damn sure that nothing like this spreads to the rest of the world," I proposed.

"And I'll be your wife as well as co-founder of this church? Sounds good to me! I guess that I'm about to get religion!" Nina laughed as she let me bottom out inside her luscious cunny.

"By the time that the orange buffoon in DC or those man-hating witches in Whitehall discover what's happening, we'll be in every corner of the English-speaking world. They'll be actually outnumbered in the Commonwealth and outvoted at every turn. We can also push for Northern Ireland to rejoin Ireland at least, in order to spare men there at least such indignities. Due to Brexit, England will be much weaker without Ireland and the rest of Europe, and if Scotland splits off, it will be weaker still.

"New Order will preside over the decline of England into a Third World country. Resources will be scarce and it will be harder for them to afford the technology over time to keep the men in line. Perhaps we can even organise an English Government in exile to rally opposition. Maybe not! Either way, this church is our ticket to a better future! For all of us! Marry me, stray with me, pray with me, and join me in building a much happier world!" I propositioned her, getting a wide smile for a response.

"I'm game, but first, please ... fucking cum in my twat!" Nina invited me as she moaned her total ecstasy.

"Attagirl!" I slapped her arse again as I spilled my seed inside her.

"Another thing that we'll have to fight back against ... stupid rules that say that what you did was so fucking horrid! I love what you just did and want some more!" Nina offered as we rose, adjusted a bit, and returned to our pints to drink some more and close our tabs.

The way that everyone stared at us, it was clear that they knew exactly what we'd done. I paid up to a wink and grin from the barkeep, as we took to our rooms and began fucking some more in earnest. I rammed Nina in every possible position that she could imagine, and she, being the sexy slut that she was, took it all in stride. I reamed her but good, showered with her, got room service delivered to replace some of the lost calories, and rogered her all over again.

"Bangers and mash! A sweet taste of home, but nothing on that nice banger that you have between your thighs, love!" Nina assured me with several kisses to my lips and face.

"Well, I'm rather partial to the clam between yours!" I retorted as I playfully spanked her bum for several seconds.

"Kinky, I love it!" Nina reacted as she pulled me close and made out with me some more.

That was when the phone rang and I saw that it was Christine. She sounded drunk and excited, clearly in a jovial mood about the election results. She also sounded out of breath, which confirmed my suspicions that I long held that I wasn't the only cheater in our marriage. I put the phone on speaker, unknown to her, letting Nina overhear us, and she winked at me in a saucy, conniving expression on her face.

"Hello, love! 'Tis a glorious new dawn for Mother England! She is reborn! Women of the world, unite! Come on, don't be bashful, rejoice! Even you blokes will be happier with the results, just you watch and see! You'll know your place and never have to worry if you're going too far, because we shan't let you! No more uncertainty or anxiety! Freedom from toxic masculinity and uncertainty!

"Rush home, darling, to the loving arms and bosom of your brand new wife, who is a woman reborn! I have so many new ways to show my love for you and so many things to teach you! You shan't need to cheat on me, anymore! You can be the man that you were always meant to be, loyal, faithful, and obedient! The rewards shall be splendid!" Christine sounded very enthused, me less so, of course.

"Um, thanks, but no thanks," I told my wife, who reacted with stony silence for a moment, her buzz apparently killed, her euphoria with it.

"Oh, come on, love! It'll be great! Louise assures me that all of the blokes need only to see their wives in the arms of other women to fully grasp the beauty of what's happening! Don't worry. You'll get to eat her cunny, too, you know! She's promised me that much! We both get to eat her fanny, so it's even steven, even now! And she'll eat mine, too, but she won't suck your cock! Those days are over! That's male-centered sex and we need to abolish that! It's all about the power of pussy now, darling! You shall have a cunny buffet, I swear!" Christine insisted, but such one-sided deals held no interest for me.

"To lick, but not to fuck?" I stipulated, wanting to hang her with her own words.

"But of course, as I just stated, it's all about quim now! But you'll enjoy it, too, just as much as fucking it! For one thing, there's pegging, and you know what that does to the prostate, right? You just need to embrace the wave of the future, the revolution, my love!" Christine persisted, not grasping that she pushed me further away with each reply.

"Christine, honey, I said with this with love, but start the damn revolution without me! I want a divorce!" I told her rather abruptly now.

"But ... what will you do for a sponsor once you get home?" Christine asked aloud.

"Who said anything about sponsors or home? I'm staying put, right here in the States. If they kick me out of here, there's a lot of places left to go without being sent back to a country that I no longer consider my homeland. England is dead to me, as of tonight. I renounce my British citizenship and would rather be stateless than English now. All of you stupid cunts are dead to me, too, the ones who voted for New Order, including whatever men did. I refuse to go home and would rather die than go back. Go peg each other, because, by Jove, you shan't be pegging me!" I hung up the phone ruthlessly now, letting Christine hear the dead tone.

Almost immediately afterward, I logged onto my bank account and transferred what money I could into my emergency second account that I set up when New Order was created. I wanted to have a backup or escape plan for this situation, which also included a growing willingness to take overseas trips. I was determined to be able to get and stay out of Dodge once Mother England fell to the madness that I feared would follow Brexit. Brexit itself had been another impetus for this emergency plan, but New Order really kicked it into high gear.

I also determined not to pay another penny or pound in taxes to the new British Government if I could ever help it. Let them starve for revenue as well as capital from any English, Welsh, and Scots chaps who chose to leave (the Scots would have it easiest courtesy of the Auld Alliance). I showed Nina what I was doing and helped her set up another account as well, knowing that she had more time as a woman than I did before Her Majesty's brand new Government acted. I tore up any form of ID that I didn't need and prepared myself to legally change my name if necessary. The harder that it would be for New Order folks to locate and harass me, even in a foreign country, the better. I also resolved to stay out of Commonwealth nations until they decided their status.

"With any luck, between Brexit and New Order, extradition to England shan't be what it was. If we keep our noses clean, we can stay away forever. I'll also renounce my British citizenship, just to make it clearer. Awful hard to deport people back to a country that they've renounced. I shan't like paying the funds to Her Majesty's Government for the renunciation fee, but perhaps it would be waived in my case. Either way, it reduces the odds of ever going back. It is a pity that we shan't be able to go back to the Falklands, not unless they join Argentina for real," Nina told me as we rubbed each other's bodies and snuggled up some more.

"I can only hope that whoever wins the U.S. election is less than cozy with New Order. I've no love for Trump nor any of those Republican twits, but certain of the Democrats remind me a lot of New Order. At least that bitch Gillibrand is out of the race, but I don't trust Harris further than I can throw her. At least the States have more gridlock, more checks and balances to frustrate them, much as they now frustrate Mango Mussolini. Who knows, maybe with climate change, half of England will sink beneath the Atlantic. That would be poetic justice, wouldn't it? Drown and piss on the whole fucking lot of them!" I railed against politicians galore.

"I just hope that you're not against all bi or lezzie girls, given that I'm not exactly straight myself. Rather queer, I assure you. You don't seem the homophobic sort, right?" Nina clarified.

"Nope, not even slightly. I just don't like the idea of sexual orientation becoming a political cudgel to use against men. I doubt that they'll be half as nice to gay men as to lesbians, and forget being trans, I dare say. To say nothing of bi guys versus bi girls. They shan't like men that they can't control, and any gay or bi men who voted New Order out of some misguided comradeship with the ladies will rue the day that they did. If they're wise, they'll escape while they still can. In fact, I'm texting all of my mates to urge them to leave if possible, even the female friends. The ones who don't, well, they've made their choice. No crawling or crying to me if they stay," I showed Nina several texts and the mixed range of replies.

"Your brother, no offence, but he's a numbskull. Staying because of his firm? He'll lose that firm in weeks, it not sooner. I believe that New Order wants all blokes to be powerless and penniless. It would make you fellows easier to rule. Besides, I saw that picture of his wife and I've even met her once or twice at your flat. She'll use this whole thing to make his life even worse if he stays," Nina sounded apologetic, but firm in her stance.

"Oh, Percy's always been a bit daft. This is just another example of that. By the time that he's realised that they're boiling his toady arse, he'll be ready to serve up for dinner. His firm is really his wife's to inherit, anyway, and you can believe that his mum-in-law owns it now, not his father-in-law. He's as dumb as a cinderblock. Always was. Poor sod will be a cuck inside a week and never get laid again. The only difference is that these days, men are going to be cucked by other women, not men. It's quite clear that New Order aims to do away with penetrative sex altogether. Well, aside from pegging, of course," I pulled Nina close again and held her very tightly to me.

"Oh, sick, my ex-boyfriend wants me to come home and sponsor him! Ha, that's because he knows that I'd treat him better than most. See my reply? 'Don't wait for me. I won't be back. Just leave. Just escape the UK before they close the borders and keep you locked inside what will soon be one big concentration camp!' He was a piss-poor boyfriend, but not even he deserves to be treated as a slave by the ones that he loves. Here, let me clarify it for all. I'll put up this status... 'Renouncing my British citizenship and never returning to the UK. Farewell, England, as you shan't see me ever again.' That should tell them!" Nina showed me.

I beamed and posted a similar status online. I also changed my relationship status to show "in a relationship with Nina Kaur." Almost immediately, my social media blew up with reactions, many of them quite positive, but more than a few negative as well. My supervisor messaged me almost immediately and it wasn't kind.

"Is this because of New Order? Are you leaving Christine because she supports it and dating Nina because she opposes it?" the message began ominously from Trevor Burham.