The Nichan Smile

by C. J. Merwild

  Domino didn’t have to hear it twice. “I get it.”

  Ero finally freed him and Domino raced away to the trees and the relative privacy they offered.

  Night was falling when Ero found his nephew sitting in the grass, head trapped in his hands as if the pressure could free his mind. Domino listened to the verdict. He expected his seasons to kill him, but his uncle was bringing good news.

  “Two women will join you later in the auditorium.”

  Two women. Domino didn’t dare ask which ones. “The auditorium?”

  “It’s clean, neutral, and big enough for men to keep watch without being too conspicuous.”

  Domino was stunned. Nichans were going to watch him have sex? He was going to lose his virginity before their very eyes?

  Ero continued before his nephew had time to react to the information. “Your season partners say they’re not afraid of you, but you never know what might happen. These men will still be there, for safety. For the women’s and yours. They’ve been through this. They’ll know when to end it.”

  A bitter taste crawled up the length of Domino’s tongue. He returned to the essential question. He feared the answer, but since he had to go through it, he might as well find out in advance.

  “Who agreed to it? I mean, the women.”

  “Ensun and Omak.”

  The first was a beautiful, discreet young woman in her late twenties, the kind of woman Domino would have looked at more if his mind hadn’t already been elsewhere. The other belonged to the village council and had shown unwelcome interest in Domino more than once in the past. In the midst of the excitement that suddenly overtook him, Domino remembered that Omak was about twenty years older than he was. However, in view of the urgency of the situation, the thought lost its relevance.

  “Come on, get up,” Ero said. “I had the baths cleared. You’re going to wash yourself from top to bottom, then I’ll accompany you to the auditorium. No, I won’t stay in the room,” he said when Domino froze, close to vomiting. “I don’t want to see that.”

  X I X

  Domino rubbed and rubbed with his sponge, getting close to burning his skin. His penis, which he avoided touching—apart from purely hygienic gestures—or even looking at, was swollen with anticipation, painfully hard. Cold water had long since ceased to relieve him.

  He was so impatient to get it over with.

  He dried himself, tied a long skirt around his waist, and leaned against the wall. His heart was beating so fast he was sick to his stomach. He felt like he wouldn’t survive the night. Breath in. Exhale. Over and over again. He was both exhausted and more awake than ever, nerves frayed, muscles close to breaking down. He slapped himself to put his brain back in place. And he went for it.

  Ero, who was camping in front of the bathhouse door, accompanied him to the auditorium. Fortunately, they went through the woods to reach the door of the building at the back of the sanctuary. No one in sight. They climbed the steps, his uncle opened the door for him, and Domino entered.

  “At least try to enjoy it,” Ero said before closing the door behind him.

  They’d prepared a bed of thick blankets near the brazier. The blaze was extinguished, but several lamps hanging from the columns or sitting on the ground framed the area dedicated to the fucking. Domino, searching for his courage, spotted the four men discreetly kneeling in the shadow of the pillars. They were far enough away so that their smell wouldn’t disturb him, but their presence didn’t fail to intimidate the young man. Apart from that, a heady scent of fruity alcohol floated in the air.

  Domino walked towards the blankets. He knelt on them, facing the front door, skin ablaze and itchy wherever the fabric of his skirt made contact, and waited. In the silence, he could only hear the thundering beat of his heart. Then the creaking of the door.

  He looked up. The two women entered, one after the other.

  Omak led the way, an amused smile on her wide mouth. Ensun stood at a distance, pushing back the long black hair falling over her bust. Both wore thin tunics that left little room for imagination. Domino guessed the tips of their breasts under the linen. And the smell . . . Their scent pervaded him, and he swayed on his knees, sighing with both delight and impatience.

  Ensun stood back for a while, half in the shade, visibly curious but cautious. Omak wasted no time. With a straightforward gait, she opened her tunic, let it slide to the ground, and knelt naked before Domino, close enough for the smell of her to erase his name from his memory.

  Omak was beautiful, small for a nichan, with coppery skin, muscular thighs and small round breasts. Domino was already holding them in his hands, had moved without even realizing it, driven by a desire he could no longer contain.

  Omak grinned, biting her lip. “You like them?” Then she shook her shoulders, as if to chase a shiver.

  Eyes focused on the woman’s body, Domino remained quiet. Talking made no sense anymore. Only flesh did. His fingers kneaded her tender breasts, whose nipples were hardening in his palms.

  “I think so.” Omak laughed and moved forward to appreciate the contact of his hands on her skin. “I’ve wanted you for a while, you know. How old are you again? Sixteen? Yes, so young. With such beautiful skin. Look at those hands. And this body. You’re a gorgeous man, has anyone ever told you that? Come on, let me see the rest of you.”

  Undoing the cord holding Domino’s skirt, she leaned forward, opened the sides of the garment and revealed Domino’s cock, leaving the fresh air and the pheromones she was releasing caressing its surface. The young man groaned and his body reacted accordingly.

  “Yes, it’s coming,” said Omak, shivering again, a light moan on her lips, coming ever closer to Domino. She grabbed his hand and guided it to the dark triangle of her own crotch. “Have you ever touched a woman like that before? How badly do you want to feel my sex? You can touch it, I want it.”

  Domino’s long fingers found their way into the flesh. He gasped and leaned toward Omak, his hand getting lost between the slippery lips that seemed to want to suck him in whole. The woman was already wet and kept smiling and panting. For a moment, she guided Domino’s fingers deeper, then out, and inside again. She moaned at the touch.

  Out of pure reflex, responding to a desperate and vital need, Domino withdrew his hand and reached for his erect sex.

  Immediately, Omak stopped his gesture, grabbing his wrist forcefully, and frowned. “Don’t even think about it.”

  Just like talking, thinking was impossible. He was acting solely on the impulse to meet his needs, to put an end to his suffering. And driven by that same need for relief, he sobbed at the refusal to do so.

  Letting go of his arm, Omak closed her fist around the young man’s erection and caressed him without restraint. “Let me see the beast,” she whispered.

  Normally, such words would have repulsed Domino. But nothing was normal about him anymore. So he grabbed Omak by the waist and pushed her to the ground, on her back. He leaned over her in a hurry, spread her legs and penetrated her with a long movement. She gasped, eyes wide open. Then a resounding laugh came out of her throat. She clung to the blankets above her head as Domino moved inside her. The pleasure overwhelmed him like a tidal wave, and he came almost immediately, grunting like the beast she wished to see. But he continued to move in great thrusts, trying to go ever deeper. His erection remained, his pleasure grew. After less than a minute, he ejaculated inside her again.

  He quickly lost all sense of time and space. All he could see was Omak’s body, the warm, moist slit he came and went through, her breasts bouncing with his own hip movements. He didn’t know how long he’d been inside her, how many times he’d already come, when Ensun approached, panting, eyes locked on Domino. Without slowing down the pace, gorging himself with Omak’s unbridled screams and moans, he looked up at the second woman and climaxed again as Ensun undressed in front of him, revealing one by one her generous curves, her heavy, pointed breasts, then the arch of her wide hips, and finally a patch o
f black hairs that Domino was eager to explore.

  He continued to move.

  Ensun sat down next to him. Ever so slowly, her hand wandered onto his arm, going up to his muscular shoulder, then down his back, following the line of his spine. She then grabbed his ass with her fingertips and brought her lips closer to Domino’s. By the Faces! She smelled so good. She kissed him in spite of his movements, and he groaned as the young woman’s tongue slipped into his mouth.

  He’d never kissed anyone before. He’d never been kissed either. It was terribly good. She was so beautiful. He wanted her so badly.

  Omak trembled, finally reaching orgasm.

  “My turn,” Ensun whispered before licking Domino’s lips, caressing his chest and abdomen. “Fuck me.”

  And he did. After another rushed kiss, she turned around, leaning forward, kneeling on her elbows and knees. He grabbed her waist with one hand, her neck with the other, and entered her with blissful ease. The sound of flesh knocking flesh filled all his thoughts. His heart followed this steady pace. Ensun contracted her muscles, tightening around him, intensifying their pleasure. Domino saw stars and spread himself inside her.

  And he did it again. Over and over and over again. He kept coming, lost track of it. He clung to his relief as much as to the hips of the two women. One then the other. He didn’t even give them time to get up after catching their breath. He moved from one body to the next without a break, feeling a raging frustration during the brief interval when his body was separated from theirs. Bathed in sweat, tears in his eyes, he took everything they gave him, always wanting more. He didn’t immediately hear the voice telling him to stop. He pushed it away, clinging to the body he was rocking back and forth and that gave him so much pleasure he could have died from it.

  “Let him do it,” said one of the two women.

  “Ensun’s done,” said a man’s voice. “It’s over.”

  “Are you deaf or something? Ah! Faces above! Let him finish!”

  Domino swallowed and tried to understand where these voices were coming from. His comings and goings continued, unstoppable.

  A hand was placed against his wet chest and with a suddenness that took his breath away, he was pushed back. He lost his grip and fell backwards, his shoulder hitting the wood. And he considered the scene without understanding: Omak knelt on all fours, her reddened crotch facing him. She looked annoyed, blushing hard. Next to her, Ensun gathered their clothes, hair tangled in the back of her skull, fingerprints marking the skin around her thighs and hips. With one hand, she tried to hide the transparent liquid dripping between her legs.

  “I’m so . . . I’m sorry,” Domino stammered, lying on the ground, not daring to make the slightest gesture. “I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t know why he was asking for forgiveness. Everything was foggy, and apologizing seemed to be the only reaction to this turn of events.

  The men all approached, one helping Omak get up, another placing her tunic on Ensun’s shoulders. Those who remained stood between Domino and the two women, as if he were a ferocious animal and they his prey.

  The bile rose up his throat.

  “Why do you care so much? I told you to let him finish,” Omak said before freeing her arm from the nichan who helped her to her feet.

  She knelt back, sweating, and progressed toward Domino, who would have backed off if he’d had a clue of what was happening. Before his consciousness reached his mind, Omak straddled him, attempting to awaken his instincts with both hands. He then realized that this hand on his chest and this other hand on his genitals were bothering him. He didn’t want that anymore, didn’t see the point. He’d already received what he needed.

  When Omak leaned in to kiss him, Domino retreated, turning his face away.

  “Come on, we’re not stopping there,” the woman whispered against his ear, clutching his penis with far too much force. She approached, eagerly seeking to capture Domino’s mouth, which he again evaded. “What if I tell you that Beïka lasted longer than you did? Will you mount me again?”

  Beïka? What the fuck is . . .

  “No!” Domino pushed Omak away as the reality punched him in the face.

  The woman struggled for a moment, refusing to accept his rejection. She pushed Domino’s hands away, going for his crotch, landing a slap on his jaw when her effort remained ineffective. She was strong but no match for Domino.

  “Omak, leave him be," said one of the guardians, taking a step in their direction.

  The woman yielded. She sat up, released her grip, and sighed. Then she gave Domino a disappointed look. “Come back to me when you’ve become a nichan,” she said, standing.

  But she couldn’t hide the weakness in her legs, which wobbled under her weight, and forced herself to walk slowly as she dressed and left the auditorium with Ensun and their guardians.

  A moment passed, silence froze the place.

  Domino sat painfully and buried his face in his hands. He was still hard, but his blood cooled eventually, matching the radical drop of his mood. The urge to vomit hadn’t left the pit of his stomach. He breathed softly, contracted his legs to stop their shaking. To tell the truth, his whole body was shaking.

  Sexually, he was recovering. Part of him wanted more. He could feel that his desires hadn’t been fully satisfied, but the worst was behind him.

  However, the discomfort in his core was only growing. He felt dirty, as if coming out of a sick dream, at the same time cloudy and yet as clear as reality. He could still hear the sounds he’d made—an embarrassing echo in the back of his head.

  It felt as if Beïka was in the room, standing behind him, laughing.

  Domino shouted repeatedly, fighting to expel his rage and the disgusting images trying to invade his brain. It took a few minutes for him to calm down.

  In the flickering light of the lamps, he looked at the pile of crumpled, damp blankets. He could still feel the soft, warm skin of the two women against his own.

  He’d just offered them his first kiss. His first time. It wasn’t fair. Those he’d saved for someone else.

  His throat tightened.

  Still tense, he stood, blankets rolled into a ball in his arms. After throwing them by the door, he tucked his skirt up and left. Once back to the baths, he soaped himself more than once.

  The lines carved into the wood were more erratic than ever. Gus gave a sharp blow to the back of his chisel. The point skidded to the side and went out of bounds of the board. He sighed through his nose and scratched his forehead. He should have been in bed hours ago. But Domino hadn’t reappeared since the day before, and Gus needed answers.

  With a controlled movement, he pushed his hair back behind his ear, blew the wood chips away, and placed the blade back on the board.

  At his back, the door opened. Domino entered after a short hesitation, as if the hut wasn’t his. His pitch-black hair was wet, curling.

  “Hey.” He stopped on the doorstep. His gaze was troubled, seemed to avoid contact. But he’d come home at last and looked in better shape.

  “Hey,” said Gus.

  Domino rubbed his chin and walked into the room. Once seated next to Gus, he looked down. He smelled of soap.

  Gus combined the information he’d just received, and his belly contracted.

  Domino was doing better.

  He’d done what was necessary.

  “Have you eaten?” Gus asked to avoid the subject.

  “No.”

  Gus got up and brought him the plate sitting on the table by the bed. He’d piled fruit, nuts, and pork strips on it. He put it by Domino and sat on the floor. With a trembling hand, Domino grabbed a lychee. The fruit never touched his lips, rolling clumsily between his fingers for several minutes.

  Unable to hold on, Gus asked, “Have you talked to Ero?”

  “I don’t really want to talk about him, right now.” Domino inflated his lungs and breathed out slowly, as if to calm his nerves. Then he said, “I spent the night with two women.”


  Gus didn’t blink as the truth took form.

  Women. Domino had just spent the evening with them. He had touched them. They had touched him too. Had he liked it? He had. Of course, he had.

  Gus swallowed in silence, forcing his thoughts to shut up now, for many were rising. Domino didn’t need to know how much the confession affected him.

  He’s better now. He’s done what he needed to do.

  “Feeling better?” Gus asked.

  Domino pursed his lips and squeezed the lychee between his thumb and forefinger. He stopped when the gray shell of the fruit gave way, revealing the white flesh underneath, like a deep wound.

  “I think so,” he said, his eyes still lowered. “I’m not too sure. It wasn’t— That’s not how I . . . ”

  “Tell me.”

  Another pause during which they both held their breath.

  “I felt like I wasn’t myself, like something was controlling my body, my thoughts. Like I was . . . an animal. I know it’s the rut. I know it’s normal. I’ve waited too long. But . . . I feel empty.”

  He threw the fruit in the bowl, sending it rolling with the others, and passed a feverish hand through his hair. Not once had he looked at Gus.

  Look at me, Gus wanted to tell him. I’m here, you don’t have to feel empty. Just let me . . .

  Gus clenched his fists.

  Let me show you that you don’t need them.

  Instead of echoing these thoughts, Gus chose silence, his eyes resting on his friend’s face. In the dim glow of the lamps, Gus followed the line of his nose, the little bump that curved the bridge. A little farther on, he spotted the scar under Domino’s eye, the one from when he was seven years old, the one that dug into his cheekbone when he smiled. He descended to his frank and square jaw, then moved up towards his round lips. Gus imagined himself reaching out to his friend, if only to put his hand on his shoulder.

  Don’t leave me.