His sorority harem the c.., p.1
His Sorority Harem: The Complete Collection, page 1
Contents
His Sorority Harem
Copyright
Book One Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Book Two Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Book Three Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Book Four Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Book Five Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
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Copyright © 2025 O. L. Tyme All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Author's note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.
Book One
Chapter One
“I really need to get fucked.”
Noah could really relate to that. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done any screwing that didn’t involve him handling his multitool. And that wasn’t an euphemism!
“I just need a guy with a big dick who knows how to use it, and really go to town on me. Really rearrange my organs.”
Ok, maybe he couldn’t relate to that part.
But then again, he wasn’t a twenty-one-year-old sorority sister. He was just the guy they called when they needed something fixed.
“Chinatsu, you’re such a slut!” cried one of her sorority sisters, the gaggle of young Japanese women laughing as they conversed at the top of the grand staircase of their Asian-only Sorority House, Kappa Sigma Psi.
“I wouldn’t need to be if all of these college guys knew what they were doing! They all talk a big game, but then they finish faster than Usain Bolt.”
“What about Jack?”
“Especially Jack. He couldn’t even get it in before he shot his load.”
There were gasps of horror, and Noah, working just around the corner sorting out some dodgy wiring that hadn’t been changed since the place was built, tried not to laugh. He wasn’t trying to hide, but they seemed to have forgotten he was there, or else they just didn’t care. Either way, listening to them made his job that bit more enjoyable.
“He tried to pass it off as a compliment, like, your pussy was just too good, babe, like I don’t already know that. And, if my pussy is so good, why the fuck is your face not constantly between my legs?”
The women began howling with laughter as Noah tried to focus on his work, but the more they spoke, the harder it was. All he could think about was how dumb these guys were, to be surrounded by these beautiful, sexually liberated women, and not dedicating themselves to pleasuring them. Like, god damn, didn’t they know what it’s like to fuck a woman who you’ve just made cum? Didn’t they know how, in the words of his sorority sisters, utterly fuckable that makes a guy?
Of course, they didn’t know, just like he didn’t know.
Fucking idiot.
He had spent years in university – years! – and all he had gotten was a lousy degree that allowed him to spend the next twenty years working a job he fucking hated, just because it was seen as secure.
Then they fucking fired him anyway!
Sure, it was the best thing that had ever happened to him, but he couldn’t deny it stung. Who wants to hear that having spent ten of thousands of dollars on education and building up two decades of real world experience that you are now surplus to requirements, all because some asshole upstairs gambled everything on the next big tech bubble and now the company needs to “downsize” and “streamline its workforce processes” as the company “reevaluates its business structure.”
I fucked up, so you’re fired.
“Oww, fuck!”
Noah sucked the tip of his thumb, an instinctive reaction. He looked at the red mark and shook it off, carefully reattached the wire and screwed on the front panel.
No big deal, after all, what’s a little electric shock between friends?
Chapter Two
“All done,” said Noah, his toolbox in his hand.
“Finally,” said one of the sorority sisters. From the sound of her voice, Noah recognised her as Chinatsu. She looked at him with a mixture of contempt and boredom. “Do you want a medal or something?”
“Err, no”, said Noah, taken aback by her needless hostility. “I just wanted to give you my card.”
“Your what?”
He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a business card. She looked at the rectangular piece of card in his hand like he’d just pulled out a piece of alien technology that was clearly not of this world.
“That way, if you ever need anything, from a leak in the shower to a hand screwing in a lightbulb, you know how to get in touch.”
“Err, I already know how to get hold of you,” she said, holding up her brand new smartphone. “I like, get someone else to do it.”
“She’d love to get your direct number,” said one of the other women, as she plucked the card from his fingers. “You never know when an extra pair of hands will come in useful in an emergency.”
Noah stood there a moment, shellshocked. He wasn’t used to women flirting with him, even if just teasingly. He was way out of practice with that, especially with beautiful women in their twenties. And truthfully, he hadn’t expected it. Giving out cards was just a thing he did. Sure, it was anachronistic in the digital age, but he felt it added a human touch, something tangible in a world where the only thing people touched was a screen. He didn’t know if it would actually drum up some business, but he liked to do it anyway. Besides, he’d bought two thousand of the damn things, so he wasn’t going to not hand them out!
“You can always get in touch through the app, if you prefer,” he said, trying to sound professional. “But if it’s down, or there’s an emergency, that’s the quickest way to reach me. I always have my phone on me, but don’t we all?” He tried to give a smile, to poke a little fun at the ubiquity of modern technology, but was just met by the blank stares of three women who had never grown up in a time without smartphones.
At that, he offered a slight wave and headed down the stairs, desperately hoping they’d at least wait until he was outside before they started laughing at him.
“What? No!” cried Chinatsu, responding to something Noah clearly didn’t hear.
“Yeah, Chinatsu, give him a call,” he heard one of the women whispering, the sound echoing through the open hallway as he walked down the stairs, “a guy like that is always handy when you need an expert to screw it in.”
Noah felt a pang of embarrassment, but also pride. It was weird, but having been a tech guy sitting behind a computer for most of his life, the idea of being considered “a bit of rough”, the hardworking stableboy toiling whilst the sheltered princess admired him from afar, was a novelty. Not that he expected anything to come of the flirtatious chatter of some horny sorority sisters.
Especially not when he heard Chinatsu boldly proclaim.
“But he’s so old!”
Chapter Three
Noah lay back, happy to finally get a moment’s rest. It had been two days since he had been at the Sorority House, but since then had done nothing but work. There had been a small flurry of requests for jobs through the website and even a couple of calls from the cards he had given out.
Sure, none of the requests were from twenty-one-year-old college students, but when are they ever? Instead, they had mostly been from elderly ladies for whom a phone call to the nice young man who fixed their porchlight (he loved being called “young man”) was infinitely more preferable than getting their grandson to order another stranger through an app they couldn’t use themselves. Their world was not emails and online transactions, but conversations and cash, and that suited him down to the ground.
It was more physically demanding than his previous nine-to-five, but it also gave him a sense of purpose, made him feel that what he was doing was actually helpful. Sure, what he was doing previously was feeding into a bigger system which depended on everyone doing their part, but he was so detached from the final product that it hardly felt like he had anything to do with it at all.
But now, everything he did had a direct impact on someone’s life. Whether it was fixing a leaking washing machine or putting up a shelf, or one of a million other things vast swathes of the population didn’t know how to do, he was there to see the end result. That was more rewarding than any annual accounting report where he was just a cog in the machine.
He thought about ignoring it for a moment, but knew he couldn’t. He had been building his brand as being happy to help, any time of the day or night. He was regretting a little, but he wanted to get a bit more established with a solid base of clients before he started trying to scale that back.
It was a message from a number he didn’t recognise.
My shower is broke.
You need to come fix it.
Like, now.
“Charming,” he muttered to himself as he typed his response.
Hi, Thank you for your message. I’m afraid I don’t have your number saved in my phone, so am not sure who this is? Thanks, Noah
He watched as the three dots danced below his messaging, sometimes pausing for a second, before reemerging. He waited for the message, curious about what such a lengthy message would say, the dots continuing to dance for an almost comically long time. He expected to receive the person’s name, date of birth, full address, including geographic coordinates, as well as a detailed account of their life story.
Instead, when the message finally arrived, it read simply,
Chinatsu.
Followed by,
Kappa Sigma Psi.
Chapter Four
Hi Chinatsu, Thank you for your message. Unfortunately, I am currently in the middle of a major emergency project at another house. I would be happy to swing by tomorrow morning (assuming the current emergency is resolved) to take a look at your shower. However, if you need it resolved immediately, or feel the situation to be unsafe (e.g. due to water leaking), I can recommend someone else to you, or you can go through the app. Please let me know how I can assist. Many Apologies, Noah.
That was the message he wanted to send, the one he nearly did send.
Nearly.
Instead, he deleted it, thinking the short-term enjoyment of providing a minor inconvenience to the woman who was a bit rude to him a few days ago did not outweigh the potential loss of custom from the sorority house, and other associated Frats and Sororities.
Hi Chinatsu, Thank you for your message. If there is a leak, please turn off the water at the source, as a matter of urgency. If you do not know how to do that, please get in touch with whoever manages the property and they will sort that for you. I will be there as soon as possible. Thanks, Noah
He hit send and immediately rushed to get ready, throwing on a fresh set of work clothes, then throwing his toolkit and some standard plumbing parts into the back of his van. He didn’t know if they would be needed, but better to take them and not need them than need them and not have them.
He jumped in the driver's seat, started the engine just as the next message came through.
Hurry.
Chapter Five
He pulled up to Kappa Sigma Psi and was surprised to find it was almost entirely dark. The house was massive, and the last time he was here, it was buzzing with life. But now, it seemed deserted.
He walked up the steps, the porchlight one of the few sources of light, to the large front door, and rang the doorbell. He shifted his toolbox in his hand as he waited, listening as the doorbell tune, some classical piece of music he recognised only as a fading memory, echoed through the empty hallway.
Then, nothing.
There was no one answering the door, no lights switching on, no rushing or giggling or any signs of life. He went to ring again, but before he could press the buzzer a second time, felt a vibration in his pocket. He pulled out his phone and saw another message from Chinatsu.
It’s open.
He put his phone back in his pocket and tried the door, surprised to find that it was, in fact, open. The door, a symbol of wealth and exclusivity, was heavy and he had to push to get it open. He couldn’t imagine how those waif-like sorority sisters managed to get in and out. He pictured them jumping through open windows, gliding gracefully through the air before executing a perfect forward roll and standing effortlessly, not a hair out of place.
“Hello?” he shouted, announcing himself in the hallway, his voice carrying as all sounds there seemed to. He looked from left to right, but the rooms around him seemed to be empty. “Hello?” he shouted again as he made his way up the wide staircase. “It’s Noah, the handyman. I had a message there was a problem with a shower?”
He got nearly to the top of the stairs, then stopped. A sudden sense of dread ran through him.
What if this was a prank?
Or worse?
He had never actually given his card to Chinatsu, who had been quite indifferent to him, to put it mildly. Perhaps this was one of the other women playing a prank on her. Perhaps she would find him in her house, where she thought she was alone, and start screaming, terrified out of her mind.
An amazing prank, if you weren’t either party involved, or had any kind of conscience. But then, people who carry out these sorts of pranks rarely do.
He saw down the corridor, there was a single light on.
Still time to turn back, he thought, just walk away.
Always preferring to err on the side of caution, he turned to go, preferring to risk losing customers than spending the night in a police station as he tried to explain what he was doing in a Sorority House in the middle of the night.
“About time,” came a voice from along the corridor.
Against his better judgment, he turned around and headed down the corridor.
“Hello?” he shouted again, trying to hedge his bets. “I’m here for the shower leak.”
“Yes, yes”, came the voice, clearly getting agitated. It was, no mistake, the voice of Chinatsu. “In here.”
He walked down the empty corridor, his footsteps echoing as he moved closer to the sole room with a light on.
“Hi,” he said as he turned and entered her room, trying to put on his best professional voice, “you said there was a problem with your–”
He stopped in his tracks as he saw her standing there, wearing nothing but a short towel, the ends tucked between her breasts, the bottom hem riding high up her thighs. Her short, black hair was wet and slicked back. He immediately averted his gaze to the ground.
“About time!” she said, as at ease with her choice of clothing, or more precisely, her lack of it, as she was with his tardiness (although he had clearly wasted no time getting there).
“Sorry,” he said, looking away, “I didn’t–”
“It’s in there,” she said, already bored of this interaction.
He risked a glance at her and saw she was pointing with one hand, the other holding the towel in place.
“Right,” he said, looking back at the floor, “thanks.”
He headed into the bathroom, let out a sigh of relief, and placed his toolbox on the ground. At least he had something else to focus on, rather than her standing there like that.
“What seems to be the problem?” He asked, still feeling her presence. Not physically, for she was still in the other room, but in the warm air where the scent of her shampoo, her body wash, her lotions and potions, the endless creams and moisturisers and scrubs that beautiful young women don’t need but use incessantly, floated effortlessly.
“The problem,” said Chinatsu, her voice closing in from behind, “is no matter what I do, it’s never hot enough.”
“Right,” he said, “then you might have a problem with your boiler. If it isn’t heating the water–”
“I’m not talking about the water,” she said. “Although you will find that I am awfully wet.”
She placed her hands on his shoulders and turned him to face her, so close they were nearly touching.
“See?” she said, as she took him by the wrist and guided his hand between her legs, moaning as his fingers brushed over her hot, wet lips. “See how wet?”
“I see,” he said, struggling to control his breathing as she held his hand against herself, guiding his wrist as his fingers slid over her wet lips.
“And no matter what I do,” she whispered, pressing her body close to his and whispering in his ear, “it’s never enough. I need an expert touch.” She gasped in his ear as she pushed his hand deeper between her legs, his fingers sliding between her lips, his wet fingertips finding her entrance.
