Chapter 1
September 12
Congratulations, you’ve been selected as Harem’s ‘Woman of the Night’. We would love to spend 24 hours pampering and pleasuring you from Friday October 10 at 9 pm until Saturday October 11 at 9 pm. Please click the link provided to confirm your preferences and attendance. Please remember to schedule your health screening for no later than the Monday prior to your time with us. All participants will be carefully and thoroughly screened before admittance.I stared at the email and felt a thrill bolt through me, ignoring the small anxious twist of my stomach as I realized that it was really going to happen.
I’d bid to be Harem’s “Woman of the Night” months ago after I stumbled on a Reddit post made by a woman who’d had so many orgasms in a row that she’d lost the ability to speak for a full hour. I’d run the battery in my favorite vibrator dead while imagining that scene. I’d sent her a private message and she’d happily sent over the link to apply. In a fit of desperate arousal I’d filled out the long application, never expecting to be accepted. The website claimed body positivity but I’d had my doubts. One of the requirements was to send full body pictures in an outfit you felt particularly sexy in as well as shots of you from all angles in a bra and underwear. Four shots of tequila and half a bottle of wine had allowed me to pose while my best friend took the pictures. I’d promised to do the same for her if she ever wanted to apply.
I wasn’t necessarily unhappy with what I saw in the mirror, it just wasn’t the kind of body I’d expect to attract a harem of men. I set my phone aside and stood in front of my full body mirror, looking at myself and trying to see what the decision makers at Harem had seen.
My dark hair hung to my waist. It was thick and soft and couldn’t hold a curl no matter what you did to it. My blue eyes were framed by dense, black lashes under full brows that required regular maintenance so they didn’t meet in the middle. My skin glowed from a skin care routine that took years to work out and cost an arm and a leg. If 15 year old me could see my skin now, she’d weep tears of joy. I scanned lower, my eyes falling to the low V-neck of my shirt and the large chest straining the seams. I developed young and was a C cup before high school. I’d settled into a 38DDD somewhere in my early twenties and no matter how much weight I gained or lost over the years, they’d stayed the same. I smoothed the shirt over my waist and belly, forcing the negative thoughts out of my head. I’d always been a bigger girl - 5’6 and no matter what I’d done, I’d never been below a size 14. Curves were in now, at least that was what I was going to tell myself.
I grabbed my phone again and began researching flights and hotels for next month.
