Chapter 70: Beavers & Parrots
The steam in the bath cabin had become a permanent occupant, dense with the ghosts of decisions past. It carried the faint, metabolic scent of Rhomir’s exiled pride and the cloying sweetness of Elena EM’s defeated perfume. Now, it welcomed the Beavers.
Kofi entered first, a joint tucked behind his ear, his ebony skin gleaming in the low, mist-diffused light. His chill arrogance was a palpable force. Briv followed, his charismatic energy tempered by a sharp, calculating focus. They’d won points, they’d forged an alliance, but now the cost came due. Their own tribe had to bleed.
The women filed in, a spectrum of intention. Diana, with her medium breasts and beautiful ass, looked around with a gossip’s eager eyes, already assessing who seemed weakest. Elena Chiriac’s green eyes scanned the space like a karateka assessing an opponent’s stance, her doll-like face set in a frown of competitive impatience. Loredana, wealth-oriented and precious, delicately tested the water with a manicured toe, as if judging its monetary worth. And Cesima. The former dancer stood quietly, her kind, green eyes taking in her friends, her athletic frame poised with a dancer’s grace, a subtle sadness already there. She’d heard what happened to the others. She understood the economy.
“No speeches,” Kofi said, his voice a low rasp. He lit the joint, took a deep drag, and exhaled a plume of smoke that tangled with the steam. “We all know the drill. We fuck. We see who fits. We see who doesn’t. One of you lovely little beavers is getting chewed the fuck out tonight.”
Briv leaned against the cedar wall, crossing his arms. His 20cm dick was already making a tent in his shorts. “It’s about utility. Who’s just a pretty face? Who’s actually an asset? Who,” he said, his eyes lingering on Cesima, “is a kindness we can’t afford?”
The challenge hung there. The undressing was less ritual, more hurried. Clothes were shed, fabric slapping wetly on the planks. Diana made a show of it, arching her back. Elena C. stripped with efficient, aggressive tugs. Loredana folded her things with absurd care. Cesima simply stepped out of her clothes, her tanned skin and fit, big round ass a testament to her discipline, her above-average breasts seeming heavier in the damp air.
The water accepted them with a hiss. Kofi remained on the edge, smoking, watching. Briv slid in, the water up to his waist.
“Diana,” Briv said, pointing. “You like bad guys. Let’s see if you can handle a strategic one.”
Diana smiled, a flirty, vacuous curve of her lips, and waded over. She didn’t wait. She sank down, took his length into her mouth underwater, her long brown hair floating around them. She came up spluttering. “He’s big,” she announced to the room, as if reviewing a product.
“That’s not the test,” Briv chuckled, but he was hardening fully in her hand. “The test is up here.” He tapped his temple. “Tell me why I should keep you while you suck my dick.”
Diana redoubled her efforts, bobbing her head, using her tongue in elaborate swirls. Between slurps, she managed, “Because… I make you look good. The others… they’ll see you with me… a prize. I’m a trophy.” She took him deep, gagging slightly, then pulled off with a wet pop. “Trophies are kept on the shelf, baby.”
Kofi snorted, amused. He stubbed out the joint and stood. His own cock, a daunting 30cm of thick, dark flesh, was fully erect, curving upward. “Trophies collect dust. Elena. You. You want to win. Show me how bad you want it.”
Elena Chiriac was on him in a flash. No sensuality, just direct assertion. She pushed him back against the bench, hooked one leg over his hip, and guided the monstrous head of his cock to her entrance. Even she gasped as she sank down, the stretch profound, her green eyes wide. “Fuck… you’re huge.”
“That’s not an answer,” Kofi grunted, his hands finding her fit, round ass, kneading the flesh roughly.
“I want to win!” she hissed, beginning to ride him with a fierce, punishing rhythm. “I’ll do what it takes! I’ll fuck you, I’ll fight you, I’ll fuck anyone you point me at!” Each declaration was punctuated by a hard slam of her pelvis onto his. “You keep me because I’m a weapon! I’m not just a cute ass and a doll face, I’m a fucking knife!” She leaned down, biting his shoulder hard enough to leave marks. “And knives are useful, you arrogant prick.”
Kofi’s chill facade cracked into a grin of pure carnal appreciation. He thrust upward, meeting her, driving even deeper. “That’s more like it. Now fucking take it.”
Loredana saw her opening. She moved to Briv, who was still getting his dick serviced by Diana. She pressed her above-average breasts against his back, whispering in his ear. “A trophy is shallow. A weapon is dangerous. I am an investment.” Her hand snaked around, joining Diana’s on his shaft, stroking in counterpoint to the other woman’s sucks. “I know how to work a room. I know how to make people want to give us what we want. I can charm points out of the other tribes. Keep me, and I’ll make you richer.”
Briv moaned, the dual sensation overwhelming. He turned his head and crushed his mouth to Loredana’s, his tongue invading as his cock invaded Diana’s throat. It was a messy, greedy tableau.
Cesima watched from a few feet away, the hot water lapping at her collarbones. She felt a profound disconnect. This wasn’t connection; it was a marketplace, and her currency—kindness, genuineness—was worthless here.
Kofi, pounding up into Elena C.’s ruthless embrace, caught Cesima’s eye over the other woman’s shoulder. “You!” he barked. “Dancer. You’re just watching? Think your sweet, sociable act is gonna save you? Get the fuck over here.”
Cesima moved through the water, her heart a cold drum. Kofi didn’t dislodge Elena C. Instead, he gestured. “On your knees. In front. Open your fucking mouth.”
Cesima knelt in the water, the heat scalding her thighs. The head of Kofi’s immense cock, slick with Elena C.’s arousal, rested against her lips. The taste was bitter, salty. “Suck it,” Kofi ordered. “Suck it while she rides me. Let’s see if you can be part of the machine.”
As Cesima took the thick head into her mouth, stretching her jaws, Elena C. increased her pace, her moans echoing. “Yeah, you like that, you chill fuckboy?” she taunted Kofi, “Getting sucked and fucked at the same time? This is what winning feels like!”
Briv, spurred by the competition, finally shoved Diana off. “Enough. Swap.” He pulled Loredana around in front of him, bending her over the side of the pool. He drove into her pussy from behind with one smooth, powerful thrust. Loredana cried out, her fingernails scrabbling on the cedar. “Tell me how good an investment I am now!” Briv grunted, slamming into her.
“The best! Oh god, the best!” Loredana screamed, her wealth-oriented mind computing that pleasure was a currency she could spend.
The cabin degenerated into a symphony of wet slaps, guttural curses, and labored breathing. Kofi fucked up into Elena C.’s clenched, aggressive channel while Cesima serviced him with her mouth, tears of strain and humiliation mixing with the steam on her cheeks. Briv hammered into Loredana, and Diana, not to be left out, crawled over to him, taking his balls into her mouth as he plowed her friend.
It was raw, it was explicit, a tangle of limbs and orifices and transactional grunts.
“Why should we keep you, Cesima?” Kofi gasped, his hand fisting in her brown-reddish hair, controlling her bobs on his cock. “Give me a reason!”
She pulled off, gagging. “Because I’m loyal!” she cried, her voice breaking. “Because I’m a real friend! Because this…” she gestured weakly at the melee, “…isn’t everything!”
Her words landed like a lead weight in the humid air. For a second, the only sounds were the slaps of flesh and the water’s churn.
Elena C. laughed, a harsh, ragged sound. “A friend? We’re not here to make friends, you stupid bitch! We’re here to win!” She slammed down on Kofi with renewed viciousness.
Kofi’s orgasm hit him like a seizure. With a roar, he erupted into Elena C., his hips bucking wildly, his grip on Cesima’s hair holding her face against his pounding, throbbing shaft as the last pulses shot from him. Elena C. screamed, her own climax triggered by the violent, claiming heat flooding her.
Briv followed seconds later, pulling out of Loredana and spraying his come over her back and ass with sharp, grunting jets. Diana licked her lips, catching stray drops.
Then, silence. Just the heaving of lungs, the drip of water.
They disentangled, slumping against the walls or sliding down into the water. The afterglow was not warm; it was a cold, clear lens of assessment.
Kofi looked at Briv. Briv nodded. The understanding passed between them without words. They had seen it. In the crucible, Diana was a trophy, shallow but decorative. Elena C. was a violent asset, useful but volatile. Loredana was a negotiable instrument, a means to an end.
Cesima was just… kind. In this game, kindness was a critical weakness. It was sentiment. It was a liability. Her genuine connection, her sociable grace, her athletic loyalty—they were virtues for a world that did not exist within these cedar walls.
“Cesima,” Briv said, his voice soft but final.
Cesima looked up, her green eyes wide, already knowing.
“You’re the vote,” Kofi confirmed, lighting another joint, the flare of the lighter brutal in the dimness. “Nothing personal. You’re just not made for this part.”
Cesima didn’t argue. She didn’t cry. She simply bowed her head, the water finally claiming the tears she’d held back. She had offered her authentic self, and it had been deemed the least valuable currency. The steam closed around her, a shroud for the good one, the one the game had to spit out first.
=====
The steam closed around her, a shroud for the good one, the one the game had to spit out first. Its damp embrace felt final, a verdict written in the humid air. In the adjacent chamber, the Parrots entered, their immunity a cold comfort.
They had heard the sounds. The Jaguars’ strategic brutality, the Salamanders’ fraught negotiations, the Beavers’ transactional grunts—all of it seeped through the cedar walls. It was their curriculum. Mihnea entered with a rehearsed swagger, his lean frame trying to fill the space left by men like Rhomir and Kofi. “Our turn,” he announced, the words trying too hard to land with gravity.
Dariana moved past him, her feline grace undisturbed. Her dark eyes absorbed the room: the wet footprints, the charged silence. Andreea trailed, sensual and watchful, her big round breasts swaying with each step. Valentina chattered, her talkative energy brittle. “It smells like a locker room in hell. Do we have to?” Andra, the femme fatale, said nothing. She simply appraised Mihnea as one might a moderately interesting accessory.
“We have immunity,” Mihnea stated, stripping off his shirt. “But we still have to pick one of us to control the vote. To decide who from the other tribes gets eliminated.” He let his shorts fall, his average cock already half-hard from anticipation and anxiety. “You know how this works now. We prove our worth. Right here.”
“By fucking you?” Valentina sneered, though she was already peeling her dress over her head, revealing her medium breasts and tanned skin. “That’s the brilliant test? After what happened to Cesima? To Elena? Being the best fuck isn’t the metric.”
“It’s not about being the best fuck,” Mihnea corrected, his confidence wavering. He stepped into the pool, the water hissing. “It’s about showing your mind works during it. Showing you’re not just a body. That you’re thinking.”
Andra laughed, a low, throaty sound. She undressed slowly, letting her big round breasts and fit ass be revealed as deliberate acts. “Darling, if you have to announce you’re thinking, you’re already losing.” She slid into the water opposite him. “But let’s play. Valentina. You’re so annoyed. Show him what you do with that irritation.”
Valentina’s eyes flashed. She pushed Mihnea back against the bench, water sloshing over the edge. She didn’t kiss him. She mounted him, guiding him inside her with a rough, impatient shove. “You want to see me think?” she spat, bouncing on him with frantic energy. “I’m thinking you’re an idiot. I’m thinking I should be the vote because I hear everything. I know who whispered what to whom. I know Emilia is terrified of Dariana. I know Briv is worried about Kofi’s loyalty.” She leaned close, her breath hot. “Information is power, you average-dicked boy. And I collect it.”
Mihnea grunted, his hands grabbing her round ass, fingers digging in. Her pussy was tight, clenching around him in angry pulses. “Gossip isn’t strategy,” he managed.
“It’s the fucking foundation!” she yelled, riding him harder, her breasts slapping against his chest. The sound was wet and sharp. “You keep me because I’m the network. I’m the parasite in everyone’s ear. You think Rhomir fell because he was weak? He fell because people talked!”
Andreea watched, then moved. She came up behind Valentina, pressing her big breasts against the other woman’s back. Her hands slid around to cup Valentina’s breasts, pinching the nipples hard. “She’s not wrong,” Andreea purred into Valentina’s ear, her own arousal evident in her husky tone. “But a network can be hacked. A parasite can be removed.” She bit Valentina’s shoulder, making her gasp. “You’re too loud, Valentina. Too obvious. You’re a radio, not a secure line.”
Mihnea was lost in the sensation, the heat of two women surrounding him, the tight, frantic channel of Valentina milking his cock. He was close. “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna…”
“Not yet,” Dariana’s voice cut through, calm and classy. She had been observing, her flexible dancer’s body coiled on the edge of the pool. She slipped into the water, a ripple of purpose. “If he comes now, the decision is just about who made him blow his load fastest. That’s pathetic.” She waded over, her tanned skin gleaming. “Get off him, Valentina.”
Valentina, flushed and furious, rolled away. Mihnea’s cock, slick and throbbing, bobbed in the water. Dariana didn’t touch it. Instead, she turned to Andra. “You think you’re a femme fatale. A controller. Show me.”
Andra’s dark green eyes sparkled. She approached Mihnea, but instead of taking him inside her, she pushed him down, so he was submerged to his shoulders. She then straddled his face, lowering her cunt onto his mouth. “Lick,” she commanded. She looked at Dariana over her shoulder. “This is control. He services me. His pleasure is irrelevant. My pleasure is the point. The vote should go to the person who remembers the point.”
Mihnea’s tongue worked furiously, lapping at her folds, his hands coming up to grip her ass. Andra moaned, a theatrical, beautiful sound, and ground herself against his face. “Yes, just like that. You’re a good tool.”
Andreea, not to be outdone, moved to Mihnea’s cock. She took him into her mouth, deep-throating him with practiced, sensual ease. Her long black hair fanned out in the water. The dual sensation of being eaten out and sucked off made Mihnea buck helplessly, muffled groans bubbling from beneath Andra.
Dariana watched, her dark eyes calculating. She moved behind Andreea, her fit, round ass brushing against her friend. She reached around Andreea’s waist, her fingers finding Andreea’s clit, circling it with precise pressure as Andreea sucked. “You’re both showing off,” Dariana murmured, her voice close to Andreea’s ear. “Andra is proving she can dominate. You’re proving you can please. But the vote isn’t about dominance or pleasure. It’s about making the right choice for the tribe. It’s about judgment.”
Her fingers worked faster on Andreea’s clit. Andreea moaned around Mihnea’s cock, her rhythm faltering as her own orgasm built. Dariana’s other hand snaked forward, grabbing Mihnea’s balls, squeezing just enough to make him jolt. “He’s a node. A connector. The only man here. His judgment is compromised by every pair of lips, every tight pussy. He can’t be trusted to choose.”
Andra came then, shuddering against Mihnea’s mouth, a series of sharp, genuine cries escaping her. The convulsion of her thighs made Mihnea erupt into Andreea’s throat. Andreea swallowed greedily, her own climax triggered by Dariana’s relentless fingers, her body seizing as she drank him down.
They collapsed, a tangled, breathless heap in the water. Mihnea surfaced, gasping, utterly spent.
Silence, save for panting. The air was thick with the smell of sex and chlorine.
Dariana stood apart, untouched, water beading on her small breasts and narrow waist. She looked at each of them: Valentina, glaring but hollowed out; Andra, satisfied but strategically neutered; Andreea, pleasured but subsumed; Mihnea, empty and used.
“You’ve all shown what you want,” Dariana said, her voice quiet but absolute. “Valentina wants influence. Andra wants control. Andreea wants connection. Mihnea…” she glanced at him, “…wants to be a leader but follows his dick.” She stepped from the pool, water sheeting from her fit, spectacular ass. “None of you showed judgment. You just performed.”
She wrapped a towel around herself, the gesture final. “I’m the vote. I didn’t fuck him. I didn’t try to manipulate him with my body. I watched. I learned. I understood the assignment when the rest of you were just moaning.” She looked at their stunned faces. “The vote isn’t a prize for the best performance. It’s a responsibility for the clearest head. And after that display, mine is the only one that’s still clear.”
No one argued. Valentina looked away, defeated. Andra’s femme fatale aura dimmed to mere weariness. Andreea simply nodded, a faint respect in her eyes. Mihnea couldn’t meet her gaze.
Dariana had won by refusing to play their game, thereby mastering its highest level. The authority was hers. The terrible weight of the coming decision was hers alone to carry.