Irkutsk

Disclaimer:

I have taken liberties in this story with the geography and social conditions of Russia. I apologise to any who feel I have misrepresented Russia or Russians - I have no such intention-it is merely my chosen location for a fiction. I selected this location because I consider it remote and exotic. We Australians are fascinated by huge lakes full of fresh water -- very different from Lake Eyre! This is a work of fiction and none of the characters involved is based on any real person.

I have written this in English. Those accustomed to US English may find the spelling a little unusual, for instance 'arse' (ass). I have, however, used imperial measurements in preference to metric throughout much of this story. That is because I am old enough to have grown up with feet and miles, which were in use when I went to school, in the sixties.

I acknowledge the work of Elizabeth Kübler-Ross in developing her five-stage model of grief. I have used it in this story, but my thanks are also because of its benefit in understanding my own reactions and those of others to some of life's problems.

And many thanks to Jenna 112211 for great editing. I wasn't an easy subject for that!

Prologue - a new country

I was a middle-aged lawyer specialising in the fields of criminal law and Asian law, becoming a little jaded with my career in Australia. My personal life was worse: I was divorced and had no family living. In every respect I was isolated and stale. I saw an advert on the internet for lawyers to work a three-month stint in remote parts of Asia. While I had no idea what this might be like, I felt I needed a dramatic change in my life. I answered the advert and got the job.

I resigned my job and arranged an agent to rent out my house and manage my investments. I also started learning Russian, which was much less intimidating once I understood the Cyrillic alphabet. Three weeks after seeing the advert I boarded a plane for Irkutsk via Beijing. I walked on feeling both excited and worried about the future for the first time in many years. As instructed I had just one bag, packed mainly with warm clothing. Siberia was going to be cold for the approaching winter, certainly much colder than I had experienced in Australia.

During the long flights I started to worry about the bold step I had taken, but as we prepared for landing and I saw Lake Baikal below I was focused again on the great adventure before me. Irkutsk Airport seemed refreshingly normal, and I was met by Valery, a young man who exuded confidence - and a little alcohol. He drove me to the house where a room had been set aside for me. I had time just to drop off my bag and was then taken straight to the office. The work was urgent and I started immediately before I had even properly moved in. I had expected long hours and the job fulfilled those expectations. However, the money was good, and nearly all of it was going safely into my account. I was given an old Lada four-wheel-drive to get around in, and it was perfect for my short drives around town. On a few occasions, I was able to find the time to go out and mix socially. I took note of what appeared to be a surplus of beautiful young ladies, and was interested. However, despite my ability to argue a legal matter in a court I become completely tongue-tied when talking to attractive women, even in English. As a result my involvement here was limited to watching and dreaming.

Three months passed in a whirl and I was offered, and accepted, another three months at a higher rate and a large bonus. I was certainly financially secure now, not that finances had been a problem beforehand. The next three months were not quite as enjoyable, and I was ready to leave after this second period. However, having seen little of the area in my time there, and recalling the lovely view of Lake Baikal when I had flown into Irkutsk, I decided to explore the early spring in the countryside a little before leaving Russia. I had asked around about the countryside, but no one seemed to know anything about it. My former employer had no further use for the little four-wheel-drive and was happy to give it to me to use for as long as I wanted.

Into the unknown

I serviced the Lada, stocked up with food and petrol and a few other supplies, and bought myself a few other items familiar to bush travellers in Australia. The next day, free of any ties, I drove northeast, aiming for Khuzhir on Olkhon Island, which was in Lake Baikal. I had seen Khuzhir shown on maps, and those maps showed a ferry that would take me across to the island. The trip to Khuzhir was uneventful, and I arrived there in time to find a basic room for the night.

The next morning I set out to look at the far tip of the island, less than 30 km away. The island was only just over 10km wide at its widest and my maps showed only one road running that direction. It was impossible that someone experienced in travelling throughout outback Australia could get lost in such an area. However, I have a talent for achieving the impossible. I have no idea how it happened, but somewhere between the irregular terrain, the awful condition of the road, the confusing signposting and the heavily overcast skies preventing any sightings on the sun (or later the stars), I travelled 50 km in 15 hours on very rough boggy tracks without reaching the end of the island. I was now completely lost in the dark. I was also cold and hungry, and not looking forward to sleeping either in or outside the car.

I finally saw a light in the distance. I drove towards it and found an old stone cottage. Some light was bleeding out from behind heavy curtains. This was my only hope to find somewhere warm to sleep. I parked the car outside and tried the door. Inside it was not much warmer than outside and it was poorly lit, but someone was serving drinks. There were a dozen or so others there, but in their warm clothing and fur hoods I could barely make out whether they were men or women. I was able to make myself understood enough to buy a drink, but no one seemed to understand English and my Russian wasn't cutting it either.

Finally the one behind the bar understood enough to get me a meal. I could see when she pulled back her hood a little to talk to me that she was a woman, maybe in her 30s. She started to talk to me about my family, my destination, and my timetable. It was fortunate indeed that I knew the Russian word ничто (

neesh-TOH

, meaning 'nothing') as it was my answer to all of these.

Not what it seemed

I was tired after the day and asked if I could have a room for the night. She took me to a very basic cellar with a bed and very little else. I gave her some money and decided that I had all I needed for the night. I could follow up other requirements in the morning. I found two spare blankets, got undressed and put all the bedclothes on top of me. I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, relaxed and confident that I could cope with whatever the world could throw at me as long as I could get a good rest.

I had no idea how long I had slept, but it was still pitch dark when I was awoken by the creaking of the door opening. After a few moments I felt someone quietly slip into my bed and I felt a small firm breast cold against my cheek. A moment later there was more movement on the other side and I felt two much larger, softer breasts pressing into my bare back.

The owner of the larger breasts reached around and began tweaking one of my nipples to hardness. Gradually she changed from little tweaks to squeezing and twisting. I wasn't sure whether it was painful or pleasurable, but after months of celibacy I wasn't going to argue. Her attentions started a familiar reaction lower down. I could hear quiet moaning and to this day I have no idea whether it was me or one of my visitors. Then a mouth (clearly the slimmer lady's) suddenly enveloped me and started busily sucking and sliding up and down my hardness. I wasn't going to last long, but it didn't happen for long. Before I knew it the mouth disappeared and then without any warning she pushed me over on my back and impaled herself on me, right down to the hilt. God she felt good - slippery but tight and warm. I swear I could feel her heartbeat inside her for a few moments while she sat still there. I know I was becoming vocal now.

The other lady then climbed on my face and gave me a sloppy kiss with her pussy. That shut me up, but the two women made up for that. The slimmer lady started a rapid rhythm lifting herself up until I was about to slip out, then slamming herself down hard on me. I think I must have lasted all of five seconds before I exploded in her. I could feel my gooey liquid squeezing out as she continued to slide up and down on me while I was still erect, just a little slower. Suddenly she jumped off and another woman, even wetter, took her place. What was happening?

When thinking back on this night (it only happens about fifty times a day) I wonder if I might have been able to change my destiny if I had made a concerted effort to escape at this point. It doesn't really matter. What matters is that I didn't escape.

What followed was what some might regard as a dream, others a nightmare. For me it was simply what happened. After a remarkably short time the second woman got a share of my seed. However, when she lifted herself off me I slid out soft and useless. It wasn't a dream after all; I was just an ordinary mortal.

In the dark, I was the only one who knew I had become soft until yet another woman climbed aboard. When she realised I was soft she said something I couldn't understand. This was the first clear word that had been spoken throughout the entire scenario. Clearly the others understood it, as many pairs of hands grabbed me and held me down. There were hands on my head, shoulders, arms, waist, thighs, feet - I couldn't count them, and there were still two sitting on me. The light came on but I could see nothing as hands were over my eyes. I felt a hand between my legs, and a needle sticking into me. I struggled desperately, but there were too many of them, and they seemed very strong. They strapped me tightly to the bed, and then the hands left me, including those over my eyes. I could at last see my attackers.

There were at least a dozen gorgeous naked women in the room. Most looked to be in their twenties. The only one I recognised was the bartender from the night before. She might have been a little older but she was just as sexy. She spoke to me in perfect English, without a trace of an accent:

"Hello Michael. There is one thing you need to understand most of all. You belong to us completely. Any life you had before is now finished. Any contact you had outside this place is finished. You are now the lowest member of our group. If you disobey us you will be punished harshly - and we are very good at punishment. If you try to escape you will be punished very harshly indeed. And you will not succeed in escaping. You will be worked very hard. However, if you are obedient and hard-working, you will be well treated. We will try to provide you with a pleasant life. Regard yourself as our pet. You have ten minutes to think about that. Then we will return and start your testing in earnest."

Everyone left the room, the older lady leaving last. I tried to count them as they went through the door but I lost count around fifteen. I was left naked and strapped down prone, out of breath and dripping with the slimy residue of my recent rapes. 'Start your testing in earnest'. What did that mean?

The iron fist

I didn't have to wait for long. Unbidden and (for once) unwanted, my erection rose again, becoming bigger than ever before and throbbing painfully. Ah yes - the injection. Did this mean the testing was more sex? I waited a little longer, trying unsuccessfully to divert my thoughts away from the blood continuing to pump into my hardness. Then my captors reentered the room and lined up beside my bed, almost like soldiers in formation. Three rows of seven made twenty-one, plus two in front, twenty-three. The bartender was one of the two in front and spoke again: "You will need to be satisfied that your cause is hopeless. We need to demonstrate. First you will be marked. Second you will have an electronic transmitter inserted into your body so we can track you. Thirdly we will give you a demonstration of how easily we could recapture you if you are able to escape, and finally we will show you the type of treatment you will get if you try. Here is step one."

I was tied down even more firmly than before, but this time my head was wedged and strapped between two blocks. I was blindfolded and heard a buzzing sound. Then my forehead seemed to explode with pain. I realised they were tattooing my forehead. After about a dozen lifetimes (probably about five minutes) the buzzing stopped, the blindfold was removed, and the pain started to fade. The woman I now saw as the boss said to me: "This tattoo identifies you as a chattel of the Lady Brigade. It will identify you anywhere in Russia."

Next she unstrapped me and said "Roll over for part two." I looked at her uncertainly, at which one of the ladies - just one - stepped forwards, grabbed my wrist and twisted it so that I flicked over in great pain from my shoulder and elbow. The boss told me I was a slow learner. She looked at the other lady who had been in front and said, "Are you ready Yulia?" Yulia nodded. I was strapped down again, and then felt more pain as a huge needle was inserted into my back just inside my left shoulder blade. I guessed this was a marker being inserted.

I was released again and given some sandshoes and a tracksuit. The boss told me I would have a 15-minute start, and that just this once I would not be punished severely when I was caught. I was taken outside where I had parked my car (it was gone now) and told to run. Everyone else re-entered the cottage and I presumed the fifteen minutes had started.

It was just dawn. I wasn't sure which way to go, so I thought I might confuse them by travelling northwards, away from Khuzhir and towards the tip of the island. I was middle aged and overweight, but I had some stamina, so I settled into a comfortable pace along a track towards a gap in the surrounding hills.

After about two kilometres I turned off the track towards a fold in the hills. I was out of breath, but coping. The biggest problem was the chemically induced erection bobbing around between my legs. I slowed to a quick jog, and then decided a view from the top of a hill might be useful. I continued uphill, thinking I should make it to the top before the chase started. As it turned out, I just made it. I reached the top and looked back. I could see the shed in the distance and heard a loud whistle. I forward again and saw the sea, er, the lake, just a few kilometres away. I started towards it.

Perhaps ten minutes later I heard shouting. I looked back and saw two figures in the distance, running impossibly fast towards me. What sort of women were they? Behind them were more; too many to count. I settled back into my pace, thinking I might make it at least to the water's edge. I had no idea what I might do then.

It seemed only two minutes later I heard footsteps behind me and turned again to see two of the women only a few feet away. I braced myself for a fight, but they just grabbed me and held me down as if I were a weakling - which in effect I was. One of them flipped me on my back while the other tore off my track pants and without hesitation dropped her own pants, climbed on and slid down onto me, humping me like an animal. Mind you, it felt like heaven. After my earlier session I lasted longer, and she orgasmed quickly and violently.

She quickly hopped off and held me down while the other one took her turn. I lost myself in the bliss for a short while, and then suddenly the whole pack was there. Again there were hands all over me. There was a pussy on my face again. My hands were being pushed against other bodies around me. I got the impression they were waiting for their turn, and one by one I found out that they were. I was starting to feel a bit chafed, but obviously they were not. I had had one more orgasm myself, and was losing interest - but I remained hard. Eventually the attack ended, and a bus drove up, with the boss driving. We all got in and went back to the shed.

Upon our return I was taken down again, now unresisting, into 'my' room. I was still erect and throbbing more than before. I was bent over and tied face down onto a padded frame. As I looked down beside my head I could see a small monitor showing a bare behind (mine) and the boss, naked except for a huge strap-on, slimy with lubricant. Despite my fear I was overwhelmed by the beauty of her supermodel body. She told me that this was just a little warning lesson for me, not meant to be too unpleasant. Serious misdemeanours or any escape attempts would result in a repeat session and worse.

Without further discussion she rammed that plastic penis deep inside me. Instead of repeated thrusting with it she just kept it motionless deep inside. A vibrator inside started on my prostate and fired up my libido again. Then one of the women forced a gel dildo down my throat until I could barely breathe. Sexual enjoyment was the last thing on my mind until I suddenly realised I was desperately horny - and then another mouth sucked on me emptying yet another load out of me in no time. I was embarrassed that everyone was witnessing my humiliation, and my abandonment to that humiliation. At least they were all female.

Suddenly the dildo seemed to expand, and a new type of pain started. My erection finally subsided. Then the boss spoke: "You have been marked as our chattel. Everyone in Russia will know you are our slut and will return you to us, perhaps a little damaged, if you are found. Do you understand that?" I nodded yes - I couldn't speak with my mouth full. "You have been fitted with a tracking device so you cannot hide from us. Do you understand?" Nod. Yes. "You have seen how easily we can find you and subdue you. Do you understand?" Nod. Yes. "And if you do disobey us we will penetrate you, simultaneously orally and anally, with increasingly bigger dildos. Eventually your anus will rupture and you will die, or you will suffocate and die. Do you understand that?" Nod. Yes. "You will obey us all without question. You will call me Goddess and all the others will be Princess. Do you understand that?" Nod. Grunting attempt to say Goddess. Yes.

My new life

Finally the dildo in my mouth was removed, and the one in my arse shrunk and was taken out. I was lifted back onto the bed and laid gently down. The Goddess spoke again. "You have had a big night. You can sleep, alone, for as long as you like. Then you can have a shower and get dressed. We will bring you a big breakfast and you can have a restful day. I will then come and speak to you and you can ask me anything you like - anything, but I may not answer every question. You will not be punished for polite questions asked respectfully. We want you to understand that you must obey us, but we would like you to be happy here. Have a good sleep, and we will talk later." Two of the ladies wiped me clean with damp towels and then dried me.

All the Princesses and then the Goddess walked out without a backwards glance, and the door was closed and locked behind them. I lay awake thinking about the dramatic change in my life, and drifted into another deep sleep, hoping this time it would last longer than the last. I certainly needed it.

I eventually awoke refreshed and relaxed, but confused... and I was in pain. My entire groin area was tender. My arse was burning. My jaw was sore. My forehead was throbbing. My back stung. And my head was spinning. Where was I? What on earth had happened? And then I realised. I was not Australian any more. I was not a lawyer. I was not even human. I was the pet of a Russian band of nymphomaniacs. My built-in manual for life's dilemmas didn't have a chapter for this situation. I was on my own. I struggled to a sitting position.