The Sisterhood Collective

Work normally ended at 5pm sharp, but that day I had a bit extra to do, so I stayed late. Around 6 I logged out. I didn't see Leslie anywhere, so I went and got my coat from a hook in the break room and got ready to leave.

I was nearly to the door when Leslie's voice called out, "Hey! What about our date?"

"I just assumed you forgot," I said lamely.

She came down the hall from another set of offices. "Just meeting with the boss," she said. "Let's go."

I hadn't been on a date in a while, and didn't know what to suggest. "Do you like Chinese food?" I asked.

"Actually, James, I'd like to take you to my favorite spot first," she said. "They serve drinks in the evening and we can go to dinner afterward."

"Sounds good," I said.

She led me away from downtown and we walked across the railroad tracks and into the warehouse district. "Are you sure there's something in here?" I asked. Around us were car repair shops and welding supply companies.

"Yeah, just down here," she said. We turned past a boat outfitter and saw a row of garage spaces. Most of them were small car repair shops, but in the middle was a garage door that had been spray painted many times, and across the top it said "Sisterhood Collective".

"I never knew this was back here," I said.

"It's kind of off the beaten path," she said. "It's a hangout for us militant feminists."

She opened the door and walked in, with me following her. The main part of the garage had been converted to a cafe, and along the back wall ran a bar made from what appeared to be recycled car hoods. Hood ornaments jutted up every few feet along its length. Art crowded nearly every available space on the walls, and where there wasn't art, the wall had been doodled on. The music was oddly soothing, out of place with the punk rock persona of the rest of the space, but at the same time it was wordless and ethereal. All the other occupants of the bar appeared to be women.

A tall, muscular woman with severe bangs and straight, jet black hair came up to us. She was wearing a tank top and jeans, and had a chain for a belt. "Welcome home," she said, and gave Leslie a hug. "This your guy?"

Leslie actually blushed. "First date," she said. "I know him from work. James, this is Astrid. Astrid, James."

"Hi," I said meekly. "Leslie's never mentioned you."

Astrid laughed. "He's alright," she said. "You know the drill." And then she walked off.

Leslie said, "She's the owner. She just means sit anywhere."

We sat against a wall, under a painting of two dogs playing poker. There were no menus, but a minute later an asian woman showed up with a notepad. She looked to be in her early forties. She was short and thin, and had a pixie haircut and very small breasts. "Oh, hi Leslie," she said.

"Hi Kim," said Leslie. "We'll each have a Manhattan, and water," she said. "Make his water extra large."

"Gotcha," said Kim, and she left. She didn't comment on the odd request.

"Extra large?" I asked, raising my eyebrow quizzically. "You sure you want to go there?"

Leslie smiled. "I thought it would make you happy," she said. "Now, do you want to hear about my commitment to feminism?" she asked.

I leaned back and spread my hands. "It's the reason we're here," I said. Then I sat forward slightly again. "Actually, I really do want to know. It doesn't really make sense to me. Don't get me wrong, I really like Free Use and I've been making the most of it, but sometimes it makes me uncomfortable, like I'm doing something wrong."

"I felt the same way at first," she said. "Remember at the roll-out meeting? I was furious about the whole process. But now I think Free Use is the best thing that could have happened to feminism."

"But how can that be? Isn't feminism about women having power? And Free Use is the opposite of that."

"Well, yeah, sexually I guess that's true. But it's a trade off. Most men are driven by the desire for sex -- sex of their choosing. And this desire got sublimated into a lot of anti-social behavior. ****, stalking, and harassment are obvious ones, but there was also just plain old sexism in the workplace and in politics."

Kim arrived with our drinks and set them down. I know she heard what we were discussing, but she didn't say anything. "Yeah, but didn't you also want control over your bodies? And now you don't have that at all."

"It's not quite 'not at all', though!" she said passionately. "Women have absolute control over child-bearing now. The laws around that really got much stronger as part of the Free Use deal, remember? And, not only is **** down, but breaking the Free Use rules, including the rules against excess or non-sexual ****, is much more strictly enforced."

"Well, ok," I conceded. "I guess that's true."

"Now, the thing to realize is that with the sublimation out of the way, and with men able to easily get what they want, society is already changing. Have you noticed that most of the people running for the election next year are women?"

"Yeah, I had noticed that," I said.

"It's because fewer men feel the need to do that kind of thing any more," she said. "And also because people in general are more accepting of women in these roles now. Open sex, like, finally made women popular!"

I laughed at that, and so did she. We sipped our drinks and then she continued. "I think we're just a few years out from real matriarchy, and that's probably the best feminist result there could be."

I sipped again. "I'm skeptical but I welcome the matriarchy if this is how it comes," I said with a smile.

We both were getting to the bottom of our glasses. Leslie said, "Don't forget your water -- you should just chug it now, you'll have to go sooner."

"Wow," I replied. "This is the best first date ever!" And I did what she said. While I was drinking the water, Kim came by with another woman. She was taller than Kim and had a thin, lithe body and smooth arms and legs. She was wearing short shorts and a halter top, and her hair was gathered into a pony tail that started near the top of her head. "This is Sherry," said Kim. "She's a trainee."

I continued drinking the water and Leslie said, "We'll have two more Manhattans." Kim showed Sherry how to write it down, and then they left with the order.

We talked about our backgrounds and interests for a while. Kim and Sherry returned with our drinks, and Leslie said, "I like your pony tail, Sherry."

"Thanks," said Sherry. "It's kind of like a handle for the guys." My cock throbbed at this.

I think Leslie understood that, because when they left, she scooted her chair closer to me and said, "You know, you could just fuck her if you wanted."

"Here?" I asked. "In feminist central? And on our date?!"

"Sure," she said quietly. "The whole point is that sex and interest aren't the same any more. I'm here to know you, as far as I'm concerned your cock has a life of its own."

"You know, that's another thing I don't get. Guys get to act out their fantasies constantly under this system, but what about women? What about your fantasies?" I asked. I was maybe a little drunker than I'd intended.

"Oh please," she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Getting to act out my fantasies is like the easiest thing in the world. Hey, do you have to pee yet?"

"Yeah," I confessed. "I've been holding it for a while now."

She punched me lightly on the arm. "Come on dude, don't do that! You shouldn't hold back, really. Now, who do you want to take it? Me again? Astrid?"

I interrupted, "No way Astrid would do that!"

"Haha, she sure as hell would! How about Kim? Or Sherry, you could hold her handle..."

Leslie was getting me turned on, and I told her just that.

"Good!" she said. "You should come out of your shell a little. There's nothing wrong with the stuff you want -- you know what, I talked to Joanne about it and she told me some of what you said you wanted to do. That is all totally fine, James, hell, I want stuff that's kinkier than that." She was sitting very close now, with her hand on my arm.

"What all did she tell you?" I asked. I was feeling a bit panicky, because it turned out that I liked Leslie and didn't want her to think less of me.

"Everything," she replied. She saw my face and said, "Oh, gee. Listen James, lighten up. It's all ok. She told me about the whipping and nipple clamps, and how you like to treat her like a urinal -- and how she suggested you never piss in a real urinal again. I told you, I know it all, it's all fine."

"I'm not so sure, Leslie," I said. "Truth be told, I've been wanting to do stuff to Kate just because she doesn't like it. Isn't that pretty fucked up?"

"Meh, I guess maybe a little. But Kate's got to get over herself, this is all normal now. And anyway it wouldn't be fun if we all wanted the same things or had the same reactions."

At this point Kim and Sherry came back to the table. "Can I get you anything else?" asked Sherry, under Kim's watchful eye.

"Yes," said Leslie. "James here drank a lot and has to take a piss, and he'd like Kim to drink it while I watch." She turned to me. "James, is that right? Or did you want Astrid after all?"

"No, this is fine," I said.

"Sure thing!" said Kim, and soon my cock was in her mouth. Here I was, sitting in a bar with ten or so people around. A forty year old woman had my cock in her mouth where anybody could see. I started to piss.

When I was done, Leslie said, "Why don't we skip dinner and just go to my place?"