Irkutsk Ch 21

Hello again. I apologise - again - for the delays in adding chapters, but life has an uncanny knack of getting in the way of this. The storyline takes no time at all out of my life - it comes into my head when I'm on the bus, or sitting in a waiting room, or when I wake up in the middle of the night. The problem is getting the meaning into words, getting the spelling and grammar correct, and making sure the sequence is right (I have got that badly wrong once already in this story).

As you might realise, the story is getting towards the end. It will be a sad moment for me when it does. This might be hard for some to understand, but my characters have taken on a life of their own. They don't always do what I expect, or even what I want, but instead as the storyline pops into my head it often surprises me. This story is unfolding for the writer just as it is for you, the reader. I will be sad to all lose my friends, but that happens in real life too. As your life moves on to another chapter...no, that's not the right word... as you move into a new part of your life, you lose touch with some friends and you make some more.

I read many stories and decided that only a few took the direction I wanted. It was that realisation that pressured me into writing my own stories. However, as I have said above, even my story doesn't always go as I want it to. I have a plan for a new story, and I'll have to mull that around for quite a while before I decide whether I think it is good enough to share with you. In the meantime, please read on with what I think will be the penultimate instalment in this tale.

Thank you all for reading, voting (good or bad) and commenting on this story. All this has helped me in what has been quite a laborious process.

*****

I was absolutely drained of energy (and other things) after my incident-packed day with Vanda. I had fallen asleep instantly and slept the sleep of the just.

I was ready for a sleep-in and a relaxing day and somehow, that was what I got. It must have been almost 10am when I wandered into the dining room for breakfast, and nearly everyone was there. It was as if they had been waiting for me, and to some extent that was true. What they wanted was to see my brand.

I was wearing loose shorts because of the soreness, but I was soon surrounded and my shorts were removed for a public inspection of my new pubic feature. It was clearly visible as the hair had been burned away for an inch around the brand itself. Before I was "passed around" for inspection, Yulia put a salve on it. She also gave me a tetanus injection and a local anaesthetic. And she told me the hair loss would be permanent, so the brand would always be visible. And then it was show and tell.

The ladies were all very considerate of what was in fact a third degree burn, but they all had a close look, and most also took advantage of the fact that I was wearing no pants. Yulia's anaesthetic had reduced my sensitivity in the general area, but the situation was erotic - even the residual pain seemed to have a sexual element - and I was swollen and half-erect by the time I came under gaze of the last of those present to check out my Romany mark. I had seen her manoeuvring to be last, and when her turn came she grabbed my buttocks and pulled me towards her. I twitched as her cheek brushed lightly and "accidentally" against my readiness when she zoomed in for a close up.

Her focus "downstairs" did not prevent me from noticing her glossy straight black hair, slightly olive skin and slim boyish figure. In other words, typical appearance for an attractive young oriental lady. She was wearing a stylish silk top with a low, loose neckline that seemed to contrast with jeans so tight they seemed painted on.

The sly plotter then turned up towards me carefully arranging to allow her lips to brush casually against the tip. Pain or no, I was now straining upwards, hard and needy. With an innocent look on her face this young lady she asked if she could... She tailed off, but a pursed her lips leaving no doubt what she had in mind.

We both looked up at Yulia, and my attendant asked her: "I don't think right now he can make love in the usual way - the repeated pressure on the burn would be too painful - but I could entertain him with my mouth without causing such problems."

I was merely a passenger now as she (I learned her name was Aimi) and Yulia entered a spirited debate about my immediate future.

The result was announced by my being eventually encased in a warm, wet mouth, with a tongue seemingly determined to give me the luxury treatment. And then my remaining clothes were being removed by nearly forty others, followed by gentle fingertip massage and a tongue and lip bath all over...well, almost all over - my new mark was the target of much looking but no touching.

Aimi seemed determined not to hold back, as she sucked as if her life depended on it. She had me finished me off in under a minute, spending perhaps another minute trying in vain to get more out of me.

Eventually she swallowed hard and then slowly slid off me, smiling a satisfied smile as she did.

"Thank you." She said after coming back up to face level again. "I have been looking forwards to that for over a decade. It was all I had hoped for." She gave me a gentle hug and moved away.

"Hang on!" I called out. "Where are you going?"

Aimi turned back towards me, giving me a puzzled look.

"What gives you the right to give me a head job, enjoying the taste of me in your mouth, and then to deny me the same pleasure when it's my turn?"

Aimi stood there, confused, her mouth opening and closing as she wondered how to reply. I, however, knew what I wanted. I reached forwards, grabbed the front of her jeans and undid the metal button at the waist. I pulled the zip down and tried to peel off her jeans. However, they were so tight that it was very difficult to remove them.

Fortunately I had help, and was treated to the sight of half a dozen ladies ripping her jeans off while another six held her arms, shoulders and waist, pulling the other way. Others stood by and cheered Aimi's undressers. In the process she was revealed not to have been wearing knickers. In addition her silk top was pulled right up revealing the absence also of any bra. The absence also of any need for a bra. There was no delicacy at all to the handling and one of the ladies had a firm hold on one breast to maximise the grip.

There was a period of slapstick as Aimi's jeans caught on her ankles, and the tug-of-war ended with everyone falling over as this last obstacle was overcome with brute force and ignorance. The participants fell backwards in opposite directions, everyone laughing.

Humour was all very well, but I wanted Aimi to get some sexual pleasure, and I asked the waiting crowd to lift her up onto the table. Up she went and down I went.

I attacked her with my tongue, noticing that others were giving her the same fingertip, tongue and lip treatment that I had been receiving only recently. Aimi was over the top and done in about the same time it had taken me. There was a difference, however, in that Aimi's friends seemed to think she needed more. And more she got. And over the top she went again. And again.

After a while I decided perhaps I could take the risk of some gentle pressure on my burn, and slid carefully into Aimi. I was never going to last long this way, not in my present state: pain was exciting to a point, but not beyond. However, I did want to be inside Aimi, if only briefly.

It was still only 10:30am before Aimi and I had each had as much as we could stand, and the others, especially those still awaiting their first turn, we looking forward to the days to come. But they were going to have to wait for those days to come: For the present I was finished.

The remainder of the day was completely non-sexual, but nonetheless wonderful. Aimi and I went for walks around town, we sat down and watched and laughed at a Marx Brothers movie marathon, and even had pizza as we watched. The others joined us and eventually we were all laughing at the silly humour and antics of the three (occasionally four) brothers. (Gummo never made it into the movies.) It was a therapeutic "gap" day for us all. I could not understand the dubbed Russian dialogue and there were no subtitles, but I remembered most of the films from my childhood and could still follow the action.

We all had an early night, and slept alone (at least I did).

After another sleep-in and long breakfast I went alone to see the Australian Consul. He was a little surprised to see me. He introduced himself, using his first name, Dave, and I showed him my passport.

We sat down at a coffee table and he came straight to the point. "We were worried about you. You finished your second period of employment at Irkutsk and then simply vanished."

I told him I had wanted to travel a little to see the area where I had been working and had gone for a drive around Lake Baikal. "That's fine as long as you didn't go onto Olkhon Island" he replied.

"Well...no-one told me that..." I started.

"No problems as long as you stay away from the northern end of ..." From the look on my face he knew I had stumbled on the precise location of concern. I realised it wasn't just my expression; he had noticed my tattoo. He reached back to the phone on his desk and pressed a button, then spoke briefly to someone. Turning back to me, he denamnded: "So, what happened? I see they put their mark on you, but otherwise you seem OK."

I had to think quickly. There were things that wild horses would not drag from me. And not just that I had also been marked somewhere more intimate by a bunch of hippie gypsies. I told him I had met a group of athletes who felt exiled from Russia and who had been living isolated on the northern end of the island.

"And how did you get ..." He gave me a searching look: "

Had

been? Where did they go?" A clerk came in and handed him a newspaper.

I took a deep breath and told him they were travelling with me.

"Travelling with you? How many of them?"

"Forty four."

He opened the newspaper, flipped through it and studied it for a while. "That's all of them. What did you do to them?"

Here be danger. And more things that wild horses weren't going to drag from me. I just told him we had made friends and were enjoying each other's company.

"You made friends. Just like that. Have you any idea what they have done to others who entered their area?"

"Er, they gave me some idea, although they did not provide a blow-by-blow narrative. However, I'd appreciate it if you'd not tell the Russian authorities, at least not until you have to. I don't think they're going to cause any trouble, or at least not any more trouble, in Russia. Or in fact anywhere. I want to take them to Australia. Political asylum, immigration, personal relationship, whatever it takes."

He stopped abruptly, got up and walked behind his desk, and indicated that I should sit opposite. His entire attitude became suddenly formal as he asked for reasons why Australia should accept these women who had been causing so much trouble in Russia. I felt the truth, perhaps edited just a little but without making anything up, would serve us all best. I told him about their Olympic achievements and Russia's attitude to their successes. I told him about their military achievements and the reaction of the military to their abilities. This was a good start, because it seemed to match what Dave had already known.

I explained that their rejection by their nation, twice, when they felt they deserved applause or thanks, had made them feel isolated from Russian society, and so they had pooled their resources and bought a remote area of land to be able to live away from this ungrateful people. They had built luxurious, private, secure accommodation and had lived there for over a decade.

Dave knew all this too, and then touched upon the more troublesome aspect. "But they had no men, and with their publicity they weren't going to get any the usual way. They got sex the only way they could - by forcing themselves en masse on any man careless enough to wander into their area."

I had to agree that that was consistent with what I had been told. I asked him, however, if any formal complaints had been lodged. My gamble seemed to pay off. There had been persistent rumours, but those who had been captured and released seemed not to want to share their experiences of the notorious Brigade. Or perhaps they didn't want their wives to know. Dave told me with a wry smile that one man had apparently been telling his friends of three such attacks.

Then he asked me. "Is that what happened to you? What have you done to them?"

I thought perhaps I could get away with an incomplete answer. "We were able to work together. I had a few new ideas about how they could become useful members of a different society. Australia could do with people like them - supremely fit, with immense talent in a vast range of fields of endeavour. Their qualifications are much in demand in Australia.

"If we set up business in some country town, with doctors, obstetricians, a surgeon, three dentists, two vets..." I couldn't remember all of the qualifications. "...we would bring new life to the area. And we could set up an athletic training facility with the greatest concentration of Olympic gold medals you have ever seen in any one place in Australia.

"And one would come as my wife."

Dave looked up suddenly from making notes. "Which one?" he asked sharply.

"Their leader Chris." I replied.

"Ah, the Goddess." he said to himself nodding slightly, then up, almost accusingly, at me again. I could see him staring at my tattoo.

After a long break he looked back down at his papers and asked me to go away and return as soon as possible with details of every one of the forty-four, full names, birth certificates, sporting achievements, occupational qualifications. He looked directly at me as he added "And a marriage certificate when you can."

I was to bring all these as soon as I could, and then leave him, and the consulate, alone, for seven days. I was also to make sure no-one in my group caused any trouble. He gave me contact details to arrange a marriage. Then he simply went back to his papers and ignored me. I was dismissed.

I sat there waiting for a while, but then after the seconds stretched to minutes I wandered out and spoke to a staff member. I summarised the recent behaviour, and he assured me that Dave might be a little unusual in his demeanour, but he would do what he said he would. I walked slowly back to our conference facility and asked Chris to come for a walk with me.

I guided her to the Versailles Hotel and took her into the foyer. It was a Wednesday morning, and there was almost no-one there amongst the lovely marble.

I got on one knee and said. "Chris, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Would you do the honour of become my wife?" I offered her a diamond ring I had bought that very morning in a jewellers just near the consulate.

My Goddess took my hand and lifted me to my feet. I knew she could have lifted me off the ground if she'd wanted. She hesitated, looking into my eyes, and asked "And what about my ladies? Will you marry them too?"

I kissed her and replied "I cannot marry them legally, at least not in Russian law or Australian law. I cannot take them to Australia as my legal wives. But I love them all, and I know that if I marry you I am in effect taking them all on as my spouses. I cannot imagine how I have managed to do this, but I am looking forward to life with you all. I will be the best husband I can to you all."

My Goddess said yes, and then kissed me softly and hugged me. I put the ring on the appropriate finger and she giggled and hugged me. I had never seen her so relaxed and happy - she was acting like a little girl. We walked back to the conference centre hand in hand, happy as two teenagers in the throes of first love. And that might just possibly have been the case - the first love, that is, not the teenagers.

As we approached the hotel, worries started to flood my mind. What would the ladies think of this change? Would they feel insecure? Chris felt my tension and told me not to worry. We walked in the door, and the ring was immediately noticed. In no time we were surrounded by all my ladies. Shrieking, crying, hugging, kissing. Loving. My ladies were confident in their Goddess, and they were confident in me. The problem had been in my own mind and nowhere else.

Once we all settled down, I told them about my visit to the Consul. I told them how I had approached the question of getting permission to go to Australia, and gave them the list of documents we needed. Within half an hour I had a mountain of documents sorted into manila folders, including everything I had asked for and more besides. When I went through them all I learned what a highly qualified bunch these were. Tina, for instance, whom I had thought "just" a mechanic (apart, of course, from her athletic achievements and her intimate qualities) was a fully qualified diesel fitter certificated by Mercedes-Benz to perform full services including engine, gearbox and chassis reconditioning on Mercedes-Benz trucks. My ladies' prospects in Australia were better than I had thought.

I decided to take these documents to the consulate as soon as we could, and Chris and I walked there happy and relaxed. We dropped a suitcase full of papers at the office and the staff member at the counter promised us, in a broad Australian accent and with a broad grin, that they would be looked at that very day. There was just one document left to obtain, and that was Chris's and my marriage certificate. We had work to do.

When we left we walked in a vague route back to where we were staying. The way provided occasional views of the harbour. We talked about how we would travel to Australia, and decided a sea voyage might be a pleasant option after a difficult period. When we arrived the place seemed deserted - everything was quiet and none of the ladies could be seen. However, a few moments later Dominika and Irina walked in. They looked stern. They were holding silk ties and they told us to submit to their orders. I had a moment of worry remembering my second kidnapping and wondering whether this might be a third, but our captors quickly started smiling and Chris seemed unconcerned, calmly turning to allow Irina to bind her arms behind her back. I followed her lead and Dominika tied my arms similarly. They each then pulled out a packing knife and sliced through our clothes and in no time we were naked. Immediately Dominika descended upon me, pushing me back onto a long bench and sucking as if her life depended on it. I could see Irina attending to Chris, using her tongue vigorously, and I could see Chris responding, starting already to breathe heavily and dribbling copiously. It seemed odd that our captors were dressed in jeans and work shirts while we were naked and vulnerable, but no doubt that was the intended effect.

Once we were both fully aroused, Irina and Dominika stood us up and walked us into the main conference room. Forty-one beautiful ladies awaited us there, dressed similarly to Irina and Dominika. They were headed by Yulia who was smiling broadly. We were paraded in front of her like two prisoners about to be sentenced, and in a way we were. Yulia told us that if we were to be married, we needed to experience each other sexually.

I started to respond that we already had experienced each other, but she silenced me with a finger on my lips. "Wait and see." she responded. We were led to the podium and abandoned there, surrounded by all the other ladies.