"Newport is a modern 'free use' city," Mary says as she guides me from the station towards the bus stop. My luggage, she tells me, will be delivered to my apartment separately. "It's a strictly 'Adults Only' zone where public sexual activity is common."
I know all this. You can't even visit the place, let alone move there for work like I am, without being required to watch several instructional videos full of stern warnings and signing a twenty page document with a lawyer present.
The microstate of Newport is bordered by rivers to the north and south, the sea to the east and a major railway line to the west. I arrived by rail and my documents were examined at the station more thoroughly than at any international airport I've been through.
Newport's a mega freight terminal, serving rail, road, air and sea. There are container parks all around, with a flourishing city at the heart, the buildings designed for practical use rather than architectural splendour. Not photogenic, that is, and the weather is generally dull, windy and wet.
People do move there for work, however, because there is work there and the pay is good. The whole 'free use' thing certainly attracts a lot of young, heterosexual men, though I often used to wonder why any woman would care to live in a place where it was legal for her to be sexually assaulted every day.
"I've had the shots," I point out. The clinic gave me a cocktail of expensive meds designed to keep me clean of STDs and prevent pregnancy. "I'm wearing appropriate attire." Like Mary, I'm wearing shoes with high, chunky heels, a dress that would be considered indecently short anywhere else, and a light, transparent raincoat that is shorter than my dress. "And a pack of wipes in my handbag."
Mary's taller than me, prettier too, and blonde. Her summery yellow dress has a plunging neckline to really show off her big tits. My own blue dress is far less daring, even though I felt profoundly slutty when changing in the station restroom. My old clothes, my underwear, are now in a locker there in case I ever leave Newport.
The wind is gentle but gusting, and keeps lifting my dress. I trimmed my pubes yesterday, but didn't anticipate quite how exposed my pussy would be - to the elements as much as to the eyes of others. Dressing this way back home would be illegal.
Mary seems quite comfortable with what she's wearing. "Yes," she says patiently, "that's all good, but there are things the videos don't tell you. For one, women must never initiate or invite a sexual encounter, but they are expected to enjoy it."
"I guess there's a lot of faking it," I mutter.
"Of course, but it's best if you can relax and let yourself enjoy the sex, even if it isn't amazing. Two: Although you are expected to show enjoyment, it's best not to interact with the man using you - unless, of course, he is obstructing you in some way. Your job has priority and a man can always find another woman to use."
It all still seems absurd to me. A little frightening. And oddly exciting too. "So if I'm working at the computer, a man can do what he likes to me - sexually - so long as I'm still able to do my work?"
"Well, of course it will slow down your work a little, but allowances are made. Watch out for stalkers, though. Free use is intended for incidental couplings, and if a man starts going out of his way to pursue a particular woman, that can create a hostile situation. Make sure you tell your friends if you're worried about someone."
We reach the bus stop, where several people are standing, waiting. Two are women, both dressed in the same fashion as us, like an open invitation to be used. A tall man eyes up Mary with interest. He walks over, turns her gently so that she's facing the wall, and unzips his trousers.
"Four," Mary says to me. "It's polite to act as if this is all entirely normal. Which it is." He lifts her dress, making her lack of underwear obvious, and she winces a little as the man's lengthy cock presses into her. No condom. No asking permission. No foreplay. "Five: Showing enjoyment is good, but no screaming or swearing unless you really can't help it."
The tall man glances at me and I realise I'm staring very impolitely. "New here, eh?" he says, and I feel the heat of embarrassment in my cheeks. He's really ramming it in now and I'm fascinated by how bouncy Mary's large breasts are. She does seem to be enjoying herself too, no longer trying to speak, her eyes closed, her breathing rapid.
The bus arrives, however, and the man pulls out with obvious reluctance. "Fuck," Mary says quietly. "I was close."
We all get on the bus. It's mainly standing room, but there are rows of seats down either side, and I'm startled when that same tall man guides me down onto his lap. I give Mary a questioning glance, but she shrugs indifferently. "Six," she says. "Men are not obliged to satisfy you."
