The Nerd Turned Conqueror: A Fantasy Harem Adventure

by Oscar Reeds

  I didn’t respond. My entire body was limp, while my penis was Bizkit.

  “Did you like that?” Melissa mumbled, right after swallowing. I nodded. Janine shook her head. “Good. I’m glad. I’d really like us to be friends.”

  I never laughed so hard in my life. The entire encounter, the odd blowjob with a sloppy ending, finished with an honest-to-god request to be friends. That was funny enough to be a Saturday Night Live sketch. Melissa started laughing as well, and soon enough, so did Janine. We were all laughing our asses off, until it died down, and the silence was all that was left looming.

  Janine was tugging at her leash.

  “The hell are you doing, slut?” I tried to sound menacing, but all four of us knew it wasn’t working.

  “I’m leaving. I’ve had enough of this.”

  I stood up and slapped her with an air-punch. She was on the ground, with Melissa approaching to separate us.

  “No, no, stop, Conrad! Let’s cool down.”

  “Cool down nothing. She doesn’t deserve me cooling down.”

  Janine was staring at me intently. This wasn’t there yesterday, or even this morning.

  “You’re not a big man, Conrad,” she said, almost evilly. “You’re just a coward with some powers. I don’t even know why Melissa would want to help you. Or anyone else from our school, for that matter!”

  “You want another trip to the open traffic, slut?”

  “Do whatever you want! Now I know exactly what you’re thinking! You’re just a sad excuse for a human! Nothing more!”

  I was about to swing at her, but something hit me. Maybe it was the fact that Melissa was staring at me with her puppy-dog eyes, or maybe it was Norman’s impatient tapping of his index finger on his elbow. Yes, his arms were still crossed, as if he were observing something in the distance with an expression thinking of grave danger. The moment I stopped and began to think, though, and soon after looked at him, he knew what I wanted to do. I approached Janine, with a surge coming over me as I did so.

  “Janine…” I said. She was taken aback that I used her name.

  “What, you fat fuck?” she said, only vaguely pissed.

  “I think it’s time you learned that you really don’t know a thing…”

  I knelt before her, placed both hands on her face, took it to mine, and we touched foreheads. The moment we did, I closed my eyes, and hers popped open, as if in fear and awe. She was trembling; tears flowed by themselves, hands extended and grabbed my wrists, trying to pry them away from her face, but without success. She was now screaming, but not a scream of an attacked woman. Rather, it was a scream of a girl who was cornered by life itself, who didn’t know where to escape, and who had just come face to face with the abyss. Indeed, the abyss looked back.

  I removed my face and hands from hers. She just stared at me, tears running down her face uncontrollably, her body limp and barely twitching, not believing what she had just gone through.

  “I…” she muttered, slowly trying to form a sentence. “I didn’t know, Conrad…I didn’t know…”

  “That’s okay, Janine,” I told her, slowly undoing her leash. “Nobody did.”

  She embraced me, crying harder than she ever did in her life. And the moment she did, Melissa knew what it was I just did. She was wondering no longer.

  “You chose empathy,” she said. All I did was nod, and so did Norman, which Melissa naturally couldn’t see. “You chose for Janine to understand you, to experience the same emotions you did for years now. To realize why you wanted to reach out.”

  This last bit caught me off guard. Of course! I did want others to reach out. Damn her and her intuitive nature! I wanted a friend for so damn long; I had almost forgotten how it feels to have one. How a friend is actually someone that will do every damn thing to help you in your time of need. And this is what I had bestowed upon Janine with a simple gesture. After about three minutes of solid crying, she wiped her tears and looked at me.

  “Nothing I do will ever be enough to make up for what I did,” she said. But I merely smiled and stroked her hair.

  “This helps,” I added.

  ***

  “So, John the Lutist?”

  “Yes.”

  “Petra, the Slovenian girl?”

  “Mhm.”

  “Dwyer?”

  “Yup.”

  “And Gene Ray.”

  “And remember,” Janine butted in, “not THE Gene Ray. OUR Gene Ray.” Melissa and I weren’t amused with her comment.

  “Janine, that joke wasn’t funny a minute ago either,” I added, to which Melissa merely nodded.

  “Sorry, Conrad.”

  “Right. So those four are the ones who wanted to help me? I thought you said five?”

  “Did I? I must have miscounted.”

  “So what was your plan?”

  “We were going to confront the popular kids and demand better behavior,” Melissa was twirling her hair. I never noticed that she did that while talking. But then again, I failed to notice a lot of things with other people, other than their disdain for me, that is. “In fact, it was Dwyer who came to that idea.”

  “So why didn’t you do it sooner?”

  “Dwyer had to leave. He mentioned some obligation he could not ignore that required his attention.”

  “I know all about those, Mel,” I said, as we all paused in front of my house. I could tell by the tire tracks that some cops were there looking for me. The open door and my father standing there in the doorway with piss around his crotch was another dead giveaway.

  “Why is he—”

  “Don’t ask.”

  And Melissa didn’t ask.

  “I’ve done what I could to make it right with you two,” I said, as the girls listened attentively. Norman only paid half the attention. “Now I have to make it right by myself.”

  Chapter 5

  Ah, dear old father. Standing there, pissed, just about ready to lose it if ever unfrozen…and I was about to unfreeze him.

  “Are you absolutely sure about this, Conrad?” Janine asked, with a voice I’ve never before heard coming from her. The voice of a loving, caring girl, filled to the brim with compassion for the fellow man. My connection to her must have been a massive one, even more so than I had originally imagined.

  “No, Janine. I’m not sure about anything anymore. But thanks for asking.”

  “She does raise a good point, Conrad,” Melissa added. “I mean, based on what you’ve both told me on the way here, your dad isn’t exactly the forgiving type. What’s more, you might just get beaten to a pulp.”

  “I’m not afraid, Mel. And besides, I have you two here to defend me.”

  I could tell they didn’t appreciate the joke. But then again, neither did I. I have to admit, I was terrified to do this. I was never good at psychology 101, but if there was one thing that stuck with me, it was the notion that most of the times, victims of assault and violence are unable to stand up to their victimizers, even if they happen to get the upper hand. There was this fascinating article about a guy who was bullied so hard, he wound up in a hospital, while his bully got captured and sent to juvie. Later on, the bullied guy went to the gym, did sports, and buffed himself up. He even regularly went to street brawls, KO-ing tons of people. But when the time came to face his bully, who was now a fat, frumpy, drunk waste of a person, he couldn’t hit him. Instead, he kept banging his head on the wall while the bully shouted insults at him. That was the single most stunning piece of journalism I’d ever read, mainly because I knew where I stood on that tiny spectrum.

  I could now snap my father’s neck, if I wanted to. But I didn’t want to. No. I figured that there might be a few more good things I could do before ultimately leaving this town behind. And yes, I was considering leaving, and no, neither Janine nor Melissa knew about it at the time I was unfreezing my father.

  “Welcome back, father,” I told him as I utilized one of the man
y new abilities I’d acquired. He fell on his face and grumbled.

  “What the fuck was that?” he asked, pissed.

  “That was me unfreezing you, not that long after I froze you,” after this, I slapped him several times from afar, which he obviously felt. He was on his ass. “And this is me slapping you without actual physical contact.” I then lifted him in the air and swung him about, dropping him on the ground. “And this is me showing you that there’s no earthly way you can actually stop me from doing anything.”

  He cussed all the way as I was doing all that stuff to him. Naturally, he lunged at me the moment he hit the ground, but several strategic kicks left him lying on the ground and holding his aching balls, shins, and joints.

  “The fuck?!”

  “Oh don’t cuss, father, it’s inappropriate,” I said, still very much smug. Yeah, I knew I needed to do the right thing, but eighteen years of pure torture simply exploded out of me in short, exhilarating bursts. He was not pleased.

  “I don’t care that you have all of these powers, you little prick,” he growled, clearly getting ready to lunge at me again. “This is my house, and I told you to get the fuck out! I swear to god, if it takes me all week, I will break through your dumb little powers and—”

  “And what?!” I wasn’t pleased with my explosion of anger, nor with the barrage of air-fists I bestowed upon his ugly face. He lost at least three teeth during my upcoming speech. “You’ll beat me? You’ll show to me what you showed those ‘damn sandniggers’ as you call them? You’ll pull a gun at me and kill me? You’ll show me that you’re no damn better than me or mom?!”

  He was pissed, but in a different way. Somehow he plowed through my punches and tried to land one on me himself. He failed, mainly because I launched a whole horde of airborne mice on him. Some wound up in his mouth, which made him vomit.

  “You’re no longer in control, David,” this was the first time I’d ever called him by name. He was as shocked as I was. “I could break your neck in three places. I could twist your cock off and feed it to you. I could even tear your skin from your body in layers without as much as looking at you.” I approached him, which both girls were heavily advising against with their screams and their ‘no’s.’ His entire body was so full of bruises he could barely lift his arms to stop me. “But I won’t.”

  “What?” Once more, he was genuinely confused.

  “What I will do is far more merciful than anything you’ve ever done,” I said, approaching his forehead. His teeth were gnashing. “Norman, I want two-way empathy with my father.” A surge. And just like that, we were both forehead-to-forehead on our knees, screaming bloody murder as the longest ten minutes of my life went by.

  Sure enough, his face was away from mine, and tears filled his eyes. Sure enough, my own face was away, and I must say I was somewhat relieved to have tears in my eyes as well.

  “So much pain…” David said, clearly seeing the error of his ways. “Such torture… Conrad, I am so, so sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too, dad! That war…that war…”

  Four people crying in an open house wasn’t rare in Knee Dahcologne. However, it was rare that all of those cries were those of mutual grief. For the first time since my birth, my father and I understood each other, and by some miracle, he never had an episode again after this. In his teary stupor, he got up and frantically started filling a massive garbage bag with all of his medication, his drinks, his excess drugs, as well as his weaponry, both improvised and proper.

  “Dad, what are you doing?”

  “I’m getting rid of all this shit, Conrad. Starting tomorrow, I’m turning my life around.”

  It was then that he noticed his piss-stained pants. He smiled, an action I almost forgot he was capable of.

  “Yeah, ha-ha, I did this when you froze me. It was embarrassing…”

  My own smile surprised me even more. Then we laughed. All of us. An earnest laughter that hadn’t been heard in my house for almost two decades, if not more.

  We all joined my dad in clearing up the house. There wasn’t a lot to clear up, though, considering Janine did most of that work while I was still bossing her around. Which reminded me of something.

  “Janine, you’re still my underling,” I said, “but since our own little heart-to-heart, I’ve decided to no longer call you a slut, or anything similar.”

  She smiled.

  “Except for in bed, maybe.”

  She smiled very nervously.

  “And Melissa, if you don’t mind, I’d like us to start dating.”

  “I don’t mind,” she added, removing a massive bottle of no-longer-walking Johnnie Walker. “Just don’t use any of those powers on me. I prefer not to be changed into an overstacked bimbo with huge lips.”

  That actually gave me an idea.

  “Norman?”

  He was largely silent throughout my ordeal with my dad. He seemed to be thinking of something and quite intently so.

  “I want to be able to create a simple humanoid being that can understand me and do my bidding.”

  A surge. Immediately I made a…well, describing it would be difficult. It looked like a human figure, but it was all grey and smooth, with no feet, no hands, and a spiky, but dull ending where the head should be. It was essentially like a putty asterisk which walked. And it talked, too, using a slit where its face should be.

  “I am Greysticks,” he said, in a somewhat monotonous way. I could tell it was a male now. “I will do whatever you will have me do.”

  “Greysticks, clean the yard,” I ordered, and the little creature went outside with the gardening tools. I again spoke to Norman, who was still silent.

  “I want to create regular human beings now, of any gender.”

  A surge. I created a thick Japanese lady called Yukio. She was, of course, nude, and spoke very poor-sounding, yet decent English.

  “Yukio, I want you to go to our spare room and set up a webcam. You’ll be earning us some adult industry money.”

  Yukio nodded and went to do my bidding. But I wasn’t done.

  “Norman, now let me create any specific humanoid being I want, with any particularities I choose.”

  A surge. Soon enough, I had an anime-styled, pink-haired, maid-dressed, busty, big-assed, twenty-something old girl whom I called Tohrumi. She, of course, called me Master.

  “Master~! What do we do today?” she chirped, happily.

  “Your job is to keep this place clean and, whenever I want you to, have sex with me.”

  “Right-oooo~!” and right after that right-o, she got to working round my house.

  “There. Now that I have my overstacked bimbos, you’ll be fine, Mel.” She giggled. “Now dad, where can I find mom?”

  He looked at me funny.

  “Why would you want to find her?”

  “You told me that she was responsible for the cut under my chin.”

  Father shook his head and sat down on the floor, recollecting something heavy.

  “Look, I…” he then looked at me sideways. “I’m surprised this info didn’t make it into your head when we touched foreheads a moment ago.”

  “Not everything does. So what about mom?”

  “Well, she did make that cut, but that’s just a part of the story…”

  And so a long, powerful tale came to focus, one where everyone, Tohrumi included, cried on several key points. Apparently, my mom did make that cut, but not out of malice. Dad and she met sometime during his service. She wasn’t US-born, but quickly gained citizenship after a marriage and a shady deal between my dad’s at-the-time commanding officer and himself. Due to a lot of drinking, my father forgot what her actual origins were, but he was sure she wasn’t Iraqi. Probably Iranian or Kuwaiti, or something in between even. She lost all respect from her family when she married ‘a foreign invader,’ and my father lost all of the respect from his own family when he brought home ‘a goddamn terrorist.’ So, effectively,
both my father and my mother lost their families due to being what they were. My mother kept feeling alone in this shitty town, and any friends my father had had, well, they chose to ignore him. That went some way to explain why everyone, my teachers included, hated my guts. It didn’t explain all of the debauchery, but at the time of my dad retelling his life, I really didn’t care about that. Mom slowly went insane with isolation, and a brick to her head didn’t really help. In my infancy, she went for the knife, allegedly to cut out a bomb her unconscious self had left there, but more likely to end my life so that I didn’t have to go through…well, what I was still somewhat going through.

  I could tell that my father was slowly regaining some of his humanity back while telling this. It was as if this part of him was deep somewhere, hidden off or even forced into suspended hibernation. It was a relief for him to have listeners and interlocutors again, to have friends again. I knew the feeling.

  “Your mom is in an asylum, Conrad,” he told me, tears swelling in his eyes anew. “I doubt she’s even alive…”

  I didn’t like this thought. At long last, I had the means of rebuilding my family and reuniting with them, so her early demise would…well, I honestly don’t know what it would’ve done to me back then. But my mom had to wait. I hugged my father and comforted him, really needing comfort myself.

  “It’s okay, dad. We can work through this,” I concluded.

  A little later the house was all clean, and we all sat on the couch to rest.

  “Conrad?” Janine asked, wiping the sweat of her forehead.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think you could do this to the entire town?”

  “Do what?”

  “The mind feelings thing? The thing you did to me and to your dad?”

  I’m not ashamed to admit that I chuckled.

  “Oh hell no. I neither have the time nor the desire to do that.” I downed some coke and then continued. “In fact, I plan on leaving. With the money I have, I can literally live anywhere I want to.”

  “But still…”

  “But nothing, Janine. Tomorrow, when we’ve had a good rest, I will march over to that school and ask to be expelled. That way I can move to a bigger city, buy a shop or something, and start my own business.”