The Alpha Gender Ch. 15

After the meeting, Nina avoids the freeway and takes a different route home. She turns her car left on Sunset Blvd and studies the pedestrians as she passes slowly. The usual medley of crazies, homeless and the occasional tourist couple or family. On Sunset it never seems to matter what time of day or night it is, there are always plenty of walkers. She selects her techno mix and turns the volume up. It fits her mood, but she doesn't pay much attention to it.

A movie billboard on the Union Bank building catches her eye as she stops for a red light. Another summer action blockbuster being hyped. Typical hero pose: one beefy shoulder forward; prominent, sweaty chest with torn, blood-stained shirt; defiant expression with square, muscular jaw; gleaming knife in a thigh scabbard; chaos and explosions in the background. But the hero is a popular female MMA champion: blonde, beautiful and buff. This feature, Ms. Identified, isn't her first, but maybe her first truly big-budget one.

Even Nina is surprised at how quickly the cultural shift is happening. But then, fortunes are shifting, and it's not hard at all to imagine a female producer with the money and clout to make a big budget movie like this happen. The studio heads are still all men, but maybe not for long. They just want to make money, and this movie will definitely do that. She's not a big movie fan herself, but she'd make time to go see it, to support a sister at least.

Even on a Monday night there are streetwalkers. They tend to stay back a bit, in alleys and on side-streets, but within view of passing motorists who might be looking for them. Just a year ago, they'd have mostly been women and girls, with a small minority of gay males. But now there are a lot more males, and the gender mix is about equal. At least that's what a work friend had told her. The typical woman these days has an extremely powerful sex drive. For Nina, at times it feels like the bloodlust vampires have in some horror movies. She knows little about Brian's new whore but viewing it objectively she understands why he left. She can't easily dismiss Brian's fears about how dangerous she is in bed. If he understood how much she was actually holding back, he might not ever return to her.

She chuckles and then frowns, realizing that her thoughts about Brian are out of sync with reality, even a bit delusional maybe. It's foolish and naive to think he might return. If it happened... well, she needed to focus on what to do about the bitch, not on Brian coming back to her. There are other boys. She knew how the wheels of power turned in this new reality, and she intends... no, she needs to be a key player. She might not be well known yet, but she would be. And you don't get to the top by letting other women just take what's yours. How she responded to this might hinder her chance of reaching the top, and she had to strike back with strength, ferocity and cunning. Even if Brian was not coming back, she could take something else of hers, or even spoil him for her somehow, or turn him away from her.

As she turns this over in her mind, she scans the dark side streets for what she needs. Hunger is growing in her, and she knows it will be a tortured night if she can't get satisfaction. She had never paid for it before, but she has nothing lined up tonight. Self-stimulation helped, but it was missing something critical. Eventually researchers would uncover the complex biological urges women were facing since the change, but when she had sex with a man now it felt like a chemical imbalance was being corrected. She could still bring herself to orgasm, but by itself that wasn't enough. Maybe it was the semen, or maybe it was something passed through skin contact or respiration. Before, she could go for a week or even two without sex in a pinch, and didn't skip a beat. Now even 24 hours felt impossible.

She hadn't really known what section of the Sunset Strip was known for prostitution. Her chatty friend at the office had volunteered some information, but never specifics like that, and she hadn't asked. She was interested but didn't want to seem so. After a few blocks she got the sense she was in the right place.

Young men, mostly gathered in groups of two or three are just outside the shadows along the street. Liquor stores, motels, private parking lots, boutique shops closed for the evening. They watch cars pass and seem to be most concentrated near traffic lights. There are some women too, with heavy makeup, very high heels, cleavage, short skirts. But here at least are three or four boys to every woman. Their dress and appearance is much less standardized. There are a fair number of them in cowboy clothing, but the rest are dressed in different types of casual attire. A few even seem to be wearing eyeliner or lip gloss. The only commonalities are crotch bulges and button-down shirts open to their sternums or navels.

Traffic is moving very slowly here. She approaches a traffic light and sees a group of guys next to a Shell station and lowers her passenger window to get a better look. Almost immediately she realizes her mistake. The guys see her window go down and the tallest one splits from the group and walks briskly toward her car. She also sees that across from him a long-legged female streetwalker on silver seven-inch platform heels steps toward her. Nina's tinted windows make it impossible to tell the gender of the driver from outside. The woman makes a face about halfway there when she realizes the driver is female, and turns back to her corner. But the guy approaches her passenger window, and leans in a bit, resting his forearms on the open window. He's in western garb, wearing a light blue shirt with silver and pearl snaps open to his sternum and a tan leather cowboy hat with a red rhinestone band. He looks to be about 25 and is handsome, with carefully trimmed beard stubble and long sideburns.

She turns her music volume down.

He smiles big, showing white, uneven teeth. "Hello Ma'am! You're looking very lovely tonight. I'm Slim. Anything I can do for you?" Despite the western clothing, his accent is pure So-Cal.

As light from another car's headlights pass over his face, Nina sees that his right cheek has the remnants of a bruise.

Nina bites her lip. "Ah, I don't think so Slim. Thanks."

He looks disappointed but leans back and drops his arms to his sides. "Sure? Solid eight inches uncircumcised. I'll treat you like a queen."

Her window rolls up as he turns around and heads back to his group. The light changes and she starts forward slowly, limited by the slow-moving cars ahead. She tightens her grip on the leather steering wheel and sighs. He was attractive enough, but it just doesn't feel right. Maybe it was him specifically. Something in his eyes. She basically repeats the same scene with another boy by himself in a crosswalk a couple blocks later. This one had long reddish hair, dressed casually in a V-neck and wore subtle black eyeliner. She passes on him too, and then pulls into a liquor store parking lot near San Vicente Blvd, a bit frustrated. She buys a bottle of water and then sits in her car and checks her phone. She needs a more organic way to do this, and hopefully one that might even yield a harem mate.

She finds a list of music clubs along Sunset and checks their bookings for tonight. Maybe on a Monday night she could get in without an advance ticket. The Roxy features a surprise appearance by ZZ Ward. She was familiar with her music and liked it. That's the kind of act that might draw some boys looking to connect, since it's bound to have a largely female audience. It's a few blocks ahead on the right.

She finds parking within a block, then checks her makeup and hair in the mirror and freshens up her lipstick. Angling the mirror down, she inspects herself more completely. The shirt she's wearing is white and thin, and her nipples are noticeable, which is exactly the effect she wants. She checks the time on her dashboard: 9:15, reasonable time to arrive for a ten o'clock show.

Peering through the front door from the short line, she's relieved to see it's not packed inside. She buys a ticket and looks around for a table. The canned music is pretty loud as she winds through the guests, who are mostly standing, drinking and talking. Gender mix is about sixty-forty in favor of women. A middle-aged guy with a leather jacket and longish hair sitting alone at a table for two makes eye contact with her and indicates the empty seat with an eyebrow raise, but Nina continues walking. Too old.

She finds a table for two further from the stage that seems to be empty and drops herself into a chair. Some guys and a few girls eye her but she ignores them and looks for a waiter. When she catches her server's attention she orders a scotch and soda and sits back facing the stage, but scanning the crowd to get its feel. Her drink arrives and as she samples it she sees that equipment is being set up and connected onstage.

Nina senses that someone is watching her, behind and to her right. When she turns a young man alone at a table looks down at his glass. He seems unsure. His eyes glance up though not at her but at people near her. She waits patiently until his eyes land on her, then away, then finally making eye contact. He smiles slightly sheepishly. She makes a slight head nod, maintaining solid eye contact.

He picks up his drink, stands and walks over to her table. He's wearing gray dress slacks, dress shoes and a crisp white dress shirt with no tie. The shirt and pants appear to be tailored. He has bright eyes, light blue, short brown hair neatly combed and a wine-colored birthmark on his neck. He's handsome but in a birdish way, almost like a young Adrien Brody.

He says "Thank you" almost inaudibly. "I'm Evan. Are you here by yourself, Ma'am?"

"Yes boy."

"May I sit at your table?"

"Not yet." She smiles at him. "Please tell me about yourself. Why are you here, what's your story?"

He stammers a bit nervously, which Nina finds cute. She takes a swallow of her scotch.

"I, um, work for CAA... um, Creative Artists Agency? In Beverly Hills. I'm a l-liaison for a small group of celebrity clients. I thought my career was going well there, but I w-was recently demoted." He looks down at his feet.

"Eyes on mine Evan. Continue, you're doing fine boy." She scoots her seat back slightly and crosses her long legs.

His eyes glance at her boots, then back to her eyes. He likes ZZ Ward's music, but he's here hoping to find a woman. That he's honest about this tells Nina he understands he can't hide it from her. He lives in West Hollywood. His girlfriend Willow got a great job offer in Manhattan Four months ago. He would have gone with her but couldn't leave his family in LA. He can't afford their apartment for much longer on his salary alone - in fact he thinks he might be evicted soon. He glances down at her breasts several times as he talks and has to take sips of his drink as his mouth seems to be dry. She notices sweat on his forehead, senses his elevated heartrate, and he's unsteady on his feet. He grabs the back of a chair for support.

She feels a connection developing with him. His eyes are having trouble focusing, and she knows her scent is having a strong effect on him. Makes him a good candidate. She pulls the empty chair close to her and pats the seat. She holds his hand as he sits and sets his glass down. "Thank you, Ma'am. That's kind. You're very beautiful. May I get you anything?"

She smiles and purses her lips. "Mmm, I'd love a neck massage Evan. And please catch the waiter's attention. I'd like a drink refill."

He positions himself behind her and carefully moves her hair aside, smelling it as he does, his eyes closing contentedly. Then begins to massage her neck and shoulders. "May I ask about you, Ma'am? What you do, your story?"

"Mmm that feels good boy. My name is Nina, but please stick with Ma'am for now. The rest will come. Patience."

"Of course Ma'am. I don't mean to pry. Would you like your neck kissed?" He waves the waiter over.

"Please do."

He slowly and tenderly kisses her neck as he massages her. As the waiter steps up, Evan says, "The lady would like a drink refill. Ma'am, do you mind if I get a glass of water for myself?"

"Not at all Evan."

He nods to the waiter, who hurries off. He resumes kissing her neck. Nina reaches behind her and puts her hand on Evan's crotch. His cock is rock hard. She explores a bit and squeezes his package, then turns her head to smile at him, and he blushes.

On stage, band members are tuning instruments.

"Slide up next to me boy... close."

He scoots his seat up so their thighs are touching. He starts to put his arm around her shoulders, but then changes his mind.

"No please, go ahead. Don't be nervous Evan. I like you."

He puts his arm around her. She kisses him on the cheek and whispers in his ear. "I want to fuck you tonight. Do you think you can handle that, hmm?" She licks his ear.

"I think so, Ma'am. I want to... so bad." He buries his face in her neck and inhales, then plants a series of kisses there.

Nina grabs his crotch again and holds her other hand out to him, He takes it and kisses the back of her hand and knuckles.

"You're hard for me. Good boy. Did Willow hurt you in bed?"

He looks down. "A little. She was petite, but she could be rough." More softly he says, "I liked it."

The waiter approaches, sets down another scotch for Nina and a glass of water. The stage lights have dimmed, and only vague suggestions of movement could be seen on stage. The room is packed now, with all tables filled and thirty or forty patrons standing against the back wall.

She laughs. "Really? Good, I'm through apologizing to men. You'd have to be okay not being the only one. This is just a tryout, but if you pass I'd like to keep you. I'm building a house in the canyon and I need a team. Not large, maybe four. My plan is to support them, protect them. Is that what you want?"

He clears his throat. "Yes Ma'am, it's what I need. I'd be honored to serve you."

"What do you offer? Any skills?"

"I'm good with cars. Before CAA I was an auto mechanic. I can repair most makes. I'm very handy. The last four months I've had some cooking experience. I'm no chef but I worked at it to become more... useful. It's a valuable skill now for men."

She nods. "That sounds okay. Any experience related to security? Cameras, firearms?"

"No Ma'am, sorry."

"Building?"

"Um I can do repairs, but I've never worked in construction."

"Cleaning?"

"Anything you need Ma'am."

"Oh well, you may be adequate."

The house lights dim, and a single pinkish spotlight at center stage clicks on, spreading from a near pinpoint to light ZZ Ward in a red cowboy hat, open metal-studded black leather jacket, tight thin white top, jeans and boots. Her head is down, and she grips the mic on its stand. Faint white spots illuminate the other band members behind her. Some whoops and sparse clapping come up from the mostly female audience. A simple melody line plays on the keyboard as she raises her pretty face, framed by highlighted, blonde wavy hair, to the crowd. Her chest and neck are lean and muscular. She wears a defiant expression. Her voice is strong, fierce and clear.

Feelin' like a giant, walkin' over walls

I could crush a mountain, hundred feet tall

If I was any higher, I'd be in the stars

For once, I'm the one, for once, I'm a giant

As they sit Nina offers her forearm to Evan. He holds it in his right hand, bending his head to it and kissing her fingers, the palm of her hand and her wrist. She doesn't look at him but focuses on ZZ Ward and the band, taking occasional sips from her scotch. Several other men in the audience also seem to be there simply to serve their woman: ordering drinks for them, expressing their devotion in various ways or waiting for the next command or request.

Nina is enjoying the music and trying to exercise self-control, but getting wetter and wetter, thinking about taking this boy. The drink, music and club atmosphere only fuel her desire. By the third song she has her hand in his lap again, feeling the hardness of his cock, kneading his balls. She feels the wet smear of precum on his pants and that's all she can handle. She has Evan signal the waiter and then pays the check with a card, covering his drink as well. The music is loud. She stands, lifting him by his elbow and leans in to say, "We're leaving, I'm going to fuck you. I'm in Studio City though... you have a car?"

"No Ma'am, I live close enough to walk." He's nervous but excited. The bulge in his pants is obvious.

"Great. Can we use your place instead?"

"I'd be honored, Ma'am"

"Of course."

She takes his hand and leads them toward the door. She seems to be in a hurry to get outside. Now that they're both on their feet Evan can see she's got a couple inches on him, at least in her boots. He hadn't realized how tall she was. His heart beats faster and he worries he's in over her head. As they wind their way past the tables, he begins to feel sweaty and light-headed again. It's not an entirely unfamiliar feeling, and he knows it's somehow a biological reaction to her. He felt that way sometimes with Willow, but not this strong.

He hasn't had sex for almost two months now. The last time was in the back seat of a coworker's car in the parking garage at work. She was heavy, and he didn't find her that attractive. He didn't say "no" persuasively though, and she just took him, forcing him into her Escalade, tearing his clothes. Her vaginal muscles had squeezed him so tight he started screaming, but she clamped her hand over his mouth to silence him. It had been weeks since Willow left, and she knew he was unprotected, and probably more receptive to sex. At first when she flirted with him, he gave signs that he was accessible. But then he got nervous and changed his mind. It was too late; she was horny, and simply overpowered him.

That woman was now his boss, and while she hadn't yet come back for seconds, he felt it was just a matter of time. She was leaning on him to produce results he thought were impossible, and it seemed to him that her next move was going to be to physically intimidate him to either get him to produce or force him to quit. Or maybe just fire him. Then he'd be jobless and desperate, and she could move in on him, offer him financial support for sexual access. Either that or he'd be on the street. She knew enough about his situation to realize he'd be at her mercy. He might just be paranoid, but it seemed very likely at least.

When they hit the street Nina sees that he's wobbling a little on his feet. She grabs his waist and pulls him tight to her, violently enough that he catches his breath.

"Come on, my car is across the street."

She walks quickly with her long legs and has such a grip on him that Evan feels like a captive, and squirms a little in her grasp.

She laughs. "You're fine, don't be such a Nervous Nellie. I swear the change has turned men into drama queens! See, it's right here."

They approach a dark green Lexus SUV. She clicks her remote and the lights flash and door lock relays thunk. She flattens him against the passenger side, grabbing both wrists, pinning them against the car. She's breathing hard and dips her head, kissing and biting his neck roughly. She smashes her big tits into his chest. He'd love to fondle her but she's in full control. He yelps as she roughly jams a firm thigh between his legs and rubs his balls and erection with it.

"Oh fuck." She breathes, then grinds her crotch into his. She releases one of his hands finally and he reaches down to her groin. Her jeans are soaking between her legs. He hears the door open behind him. She laughs and lifts him off the ground by his ass cheeks. He's overwhelmed and dizzy, his arms now tingling from fingertips to elbows. She pushes him in backward as she kisses his mouth and face ravenously. She swings his legs in and backs away, slamming the door.