Irkutsk Ch. 20

Six hundred and seventy four. I would always remember that number. I heard something different. Was it the trumpets of Heaven, or possibly Hell, announcing my arrival? But there was no melody, no harmony, just a mournful monotone droning with an irregular rhythm.

I stopped and slowly turned around to pinpoint the direction. It was coming from behind me - the East. I started to swim back, and saw the sails of the yacht coming towards me. It would pass me a little to the right. I turned and swam towards where I thought it would pass me.

The sails came closer and I could eventually see the hull as well. I wasn't swimming fast enough to make any useful progress towards it course, so I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled as loudly as I could.

The yacht gybed and suddenly the sails dropped. A face appeared. Vanda was now the most beautiful thing in the universe. And she was still too far away for me to see her features.

The yacht was still making a little way, the reefed sail catching just the slightest bit of wind. As it passed very slowly about ten metres away, a rope curled over me, actually hitting my arm. I clung to it desperately.

Slowly I was pulled towards the yacht. When I was a few feet away Vanda went to the stern and pulled me after her. She helped me climb over the coaming and I collapsed on the deck, grateful beyond measure to be out of the sea. I had felt so insignificant lost in its immensity.

But Vanda wasn't letting me stay there. This tiny lady half lifted, half dragged me to the stairs, down into the cabin and onto a bunk. She put two huge towels over me and dried me all over. Then she put two blankets over me and got in beside me, holding me close. I was shivering uncontrollably. I didn't know if it was cold, or fear, or reaction or what, but you can judge my condition by the fact that it was ages before I started to enjoy her body for anything other than its warmth.

Suddenly, however, I was enjoying the sexy closeness of this lady pressing close against my nakedness. I looked up from where my face had been nestled into her shoulder, and she gently kissed my forehead.

"If you're feeling better I'll go up and set the sails again and get back to harbour as soon as I can."

"No!" I replied.

She looked down at me with an odd look on her face.

"I'm not sure what you had planned, and I presume the tow was an integral part of it, but if you can give me some time to rest, I think I can manage to play my part in it."

She vanished briefly and returned with a mug of coffee and a large biscuit, and I took a little while to make my way through them. I didn't remember falling asleep, but I remember waking up, with her mound gently sliding up and down my face.

The mound vanished as she stood from me, still dressed as before. "I thought half an hour's sleep would be enough, and I thought you might like to wake up this way."

She was right again. But I had awoken in my usual state of readiness, completely recovered from my dunking, and the method of waking had not eased the pressure.

"We'll get on to that very soon." She nodded to my loins. She had not missed my readiness.

For a while, however, she wanted to talk. I sat up with the blanket wrapped around me and listened. "I'm not sure quite what happened on the motorboat, but it looked as if they threw you overboard. I saw you flash past, in fact I nearly ran you over. I immediately tried to untie the towrope, but it was pulled very tight and by the time I was free I was miles away. I sailed back to where I thought you were and started a pattern search. I can't tell you how relieved I was to see you."

"I think I have some idea how relieved you were."

She nodded in understanding.

Then I heard a motor - the sound was familiar. I looked up at Vanda, concerned.

"Stay here." This was spoken in a more commanding voice than I had heard before from her. She was a person to be reckoned with, for all her petite body.

I hear the motor getting closer and then slowing. There was no doubt they were coming alongside, but what did they want now?

I heard voices for a moment, then Vanda returned.

"They have been looking for you. They want to confirm that you're OK."

I looked up at her, standing halfway down the stairs. "Do you think they plan to cause more trouble?"

"I very much doubt it. They thought they'd killed you. Some of them have been crying."

Okay. Maybe they were not going to cause more trouble, but what did they want?

"Can they come in and see you?"

I looked at her enquiringly. She seemed confident, and if it came to a roughhouse she could probably handle these women on her own. "Okay."

Vanda called out and I felt the yacht rock slightly, six times in a row.

A moment later six magnificent but sheepish women, still naked, followed Vanda into the now very crowded cabin. I still couldn't tell them apart, especially as they all now had puffy eyes, but one took the lead.

"We are all very sorry. We lost our temper when you turned us down, and as soon as you went overboard we realised we had all been very silly, very selfish. We stopped as soon as we could and came back, racing around. But we're not very good with boats (I could agree there!) and we weren't sure where we were going. We have spent two hours looking for you, and when we saw the yacht we were hoping that Vanda might have found you..."

Vanda interrupted: "Well, it was more that he found me, but we found each other."

The woman continued. "We are very relieved to find that you are safe again. Can you please forgive us?"

I smiled and nodded. "Come and give me a hug." One by one they stepped forwards and hugged me.

The last one looked at Vanda and me after her hug, and asked: "How do you do it? How do you make your relationship work?"

I thought for a moment and answered. "Our relationship is very unusual, and I don't think our example would be much help to you. I don't know much about you, but you are all married and you all rich enough to travel across the world and play golf or hire a motorboat just for fun. You are also very sexy women. The problem seems to be with your confidence - you put on a big display of outward confidence, but it is all just a front.

"How about this for an idea. You take turns. The first one chooses another in the group and gives her a dare. That woman must perform some sexual task for her husband - any task that has been allotted for her. Then, after she has reported back, another woman chooses a task for the second woman, and so on. You just keep going as long as you want; for ever if it suits. You can set some ground rules, for instance the sex must involve solely the woman and her husband. You could decide that pain is out, or perhaps limit the degree of pain.

"The idea should be that each woman must perform some sexual favour for her husband that will surprise and please him, and although the woman would usually enjoy it too, the main benefit for her will be his pleasure. And also to keep up her status amongst you six."

"What sort of sexual favours?"

"I'd be inclined to start with relatively simple things. Surprise sex, waking him up with fellatio instead of an alarm clock, going out without underwear and flashing him at some stage. Once they get the idea, and provided they are enjoying themselves, you could force yourself on them, or masturbate yourself while sitting beside them in their car, or have sex with them in their office."

One of the women with very red, swollen eyes asked: "They'd get used to it."

"The one naming the penalty will need to be imaginative. The one performing the favour would need to be genuinely enthusiastic. You were ready to jump a complete stranger just a little while ago. Surely you don't mind doing a bit extra for your own husbands? I would think that your own sex life would be much better as a result, both while performing the favours and also resulting from their response to your program. But the real key here is that you vary the rules to suit your own situations, your own wishes, and your thoughts about what your husbands might like."

The woman looked at me through her red eyes and said: "I've always thought about secretly giving mine Viagra and then jumping on him until her erupts, then waiting a few minutes and doing it again. And again, and again."

I was about to comment, but the first woman got in first. "That's your first task. We expect you to get four orgasms out of him within 24 hours if it takes you all night...or all day. Whatever it takes, that's what you do. If you run out of ... whatever, call one or two of us and we'll spell you. And we want a report back immediately afterwards. And just for fun, you have to give him a head job in between the orgasms. You will complete the task within 48 hours from now."

The red eyes became a little dreamy, but another woman brought her back to the present. Looking at the first woman she said: "You're next. After Billie has reported back you've got 48 hours for your task. When you and he get back to your room at the end of the day, I want you to strip off, write 'slave' across in lipstick your massive tits and your arse, and then get on your hands and knees and beg him to use you any way he wants. And for four hours the only words you are allowed to say are 'Please. Again.' You can say that as much as you like, but nothing else. Perhaps we'll also allow moaning and grunting."

Within a minute the ideas were flowing and so, I suspect, were other things. The women literally bounced out of the cabin, chattering happily. I felt six slight lurches, then a motor starting and disappearing into the distance.

I looked back at Vanda.

She grinned and evil smile at me and said "Those six husbands are going to owe you their happiness, and they'll never know it."

I replied, "I hope they never know."

Vanda started setting sails and the yacht came to life again, bouncing back westwards across a swell and giving us a jolt every few seconds.

"I don't mind spreading happiness, even if I get no credit. But I think you have orders for me...?"

"Oh yes. Off came the skirt and the shirt, and she started a sexy dance for me. Her nipples were huge knots of swollen flesh on a completely flat chest. But very quickly 'dance' was no longer the correct term. She was openly masturbating, slowly backing up to the bunk. When she reached it lay back, held herself open, and said "In here. Now."

I took three steps forward and buried myself in her. She was so slick she squelched loudly as I slid in. I leaned over her and placed my hands over her shoulders, bending down and alternately biting and sucking hard on those huge nipples.

Then her legs wrapped around my back, and her arms pulled my chest hard against hers, and she started kissing my neck. In no time I was resting all my weight on her, and she was slowly, mercilessly, humping against me. There was something else too. Not me - I wasn't actually contributing much at all, but something was giving me a forceful thrust deep into her every few seconds. The yacht on the choppy swell! Had that been the entire idea of getting a tow out here so she could set the yacht on such a course just to give a little extra "hump" to our humping? What a sneaky trick to play!

She moved slightly until her lips were against my ear, and she whispered to me that that coffee I had had about ten minutes ago had included a large dose of Viagra, and she wanted the full benefit of it.

It had been a big start to the day, and I was physically tired after my swim. Before long I was just lying relaxed on top of her, except for the one bit that was definitely not relaxed and was inside her. She was doing all the work from underneath, slowly thrusting and relaxing. I was ages from orgasm, but I could see even now that she was going to get what she wanted out of me whatever I did. Thrust, relax, thrust, relax. On and on and on and on and coupled with the movement from the sea. I seemed in a trance, lying there with this thrill building from my toenails, from the top of my scalp, from the whole of my body towards my core. I lost track of time, but still this little dynamo impaled herself on me, then slid back, on and on.

Eventually she got the treat she wanted out of me, but her only response was a triumphant moan. On and on she worked. I started to experience feelings unfamiliar to me, and then, this time without warning, another bolt of fluid shot out of me and into her. Again the triumphant moan, and again she continued as if I was not done.

But clearly I was indeed not done, at least from her point of view, as I remained hard, and the treatment continued. A marathon runner indeed.

I think it was after my fourth orgasm (but who was counting?) that the sensations started to become even more intense. I tried to cope for a long while, but eventually it had to stop. I put my arms down on the bed and lifted myself off this succubus. She was ahead of me, however. She remained clung to me like a limpet, continuing to thrust onto me. I stood up, but still she continued. I was momentarily reminded of the creatures in the Alien movies, which impregnated their eggs into a much larger host. This time, the sex machine was extracting semen efficiently and repeatedly, slowly and persistently. I lay on my back on the bunk, and so she was now atop me, still doing her thing. A fifth and sixth orgasm seemed to blend into each other, and I could not be sure whether it was indeed two, or just one.

Now she was kissing me, although she continued unchanged in her other movements. I was by now no better than semi-conscious. Oblivious to everything in my surroundings, even by now Vanda, everything except the continuing suction, pressure, suction, pressure continuing on me.

I remember her rolling me over so she was back underneath me, still continuing at her task. I lifted my head back and looked down at her face. The eyes were rolled back, the nostrils flared widely, and little sprays of sweat blew out of her open mouth with every breath. I was finished, but still the torture continued steadily. By now I was orgasming slowly and continuously. The friction was now stinging painful, but it was pain that had much pleasure mixed in.

One loud grunt from Vanda, and I knew she was coming too, but I had no idea whether this was the first or the hundred and first. And still she did not stop. I think her nipples had swollen even more, as by now I could feel them digging hard into my chest. More loud grunts, but no change otherwise. At some stage we fell onto the floor, and I was worried that my weight would have hurt her, but still she continued.

After a much longer time her movements increased in amplitude. Now she was lifting herself completely off the ground from her shoulders to her heels with each stroke. And yes, unbelievably, she was lifting me too each time. And still thrusting onto me. Her grunting was by now continuous, one per breath. I was in sweet agony, but there was no way I would have stopped this, even assuming I could have.

After much longer yet again, I was pushed out of her by the pressure of her internal muscular contractions. The vice-like grip of her arms and legs released, and I was able to stagger up off her. A long string of our combined fluids kept contact between us until eventually it snapped as I stood, and the wet string slapped against her thigh. I could see a vein running from one side of her navel down her flat tummy almost to her clitoris, red and visibly bulging out of its hood.

I bent down and picked her up. She weighed even less than I had expected. I laid her down on the bunk, lay down next to her, and pulled the blankets over us. Her last movements were to stretch a slim thigh over my hip, still humping against me, but now gently, as she also wrapped an arm around me and pressed her face into the crook of my neck and started snoring gently. At least I think they were her last movements, but I was asleep immediately myself too.

I think I awoke briefly once or twice, but each time I noticed she was still in place, and still gently humping my hip. And then the next time she was standing beside me with another mug of coffee. Bizarrely the first thing I noticed was that same vein, running down her abdomen like a little arrow towards her sex. Her sex. Yes, that was red and gaping open, still dripping and I thought still pulsing slightly. I looked slightly higher, and saw her nipples, dripping with ... sweat?

A little higher to her face, smiling broadly at me. She put the coffee down next to me, bent down and kissed my forehead, sweetly and gently.

"Thank you. I've been waiting all my life for that. Those other times after chasing you that first time, and then when we kidnapped you the second time. They were lovely, but they didn't even take the edge off my lust. But that just now, that really hit the spot." She left briefly and came back with another coffee, and sat on my lap with that firm arse pressing against my now even more sensitive than usual parts. She took a sip. "That would have killed any one of those American women, but they'd already have been in heaven before they did."

"So...", I asked her: "All that palaver, sailing out here, the tow to get further out, just to use the choppy sea to add to the thrill?"

She looked over her shoulder at me. "I'm sorry if I've let you down. Give me a few minutes and I'll make it up to you." She slid her delicious rear around in my lap, as if exploring for some remaining signs of hardness. If had been her aim, she would have failed.

I kissed her again. "You haven't let me down, and you have nothing to make up to me for. You may, however, have to pay some penance to whoever has me tomorrow if I'm not back and in fighting trim in time for her."

The chop was still bouncing her around on me, and it was very pleasant, but it would have taken a crane to get me hard again right now after all that she had done to me.

Vanda looked up at a screen on the wall, and got up in a hurry. "I lost track of time. We must have slept for hours. I got up and looked though the windscreen. I could see land close by. We had cut it fine: if we had slept another 15 or 20 minutes we would have been at risk of running aground.

Vanda got to work and in no time we were securely tied alongside the wharf. I saw the motorboat moored nearby, quietly rocking in the waves as if nothing had happened. Vanda laid out the gangplank and we walked down the wharf. Suddenly our six friends appeared, still naked, and formed a guard of honour for us to walk through. As I stepped out the other side with Vanda I turned to thank them. I saw, for the first time in a long while in Russia, a Police officer. I was suddenly aware of my nakedness and that of my friends. However, the Police officer didn't seem too concerned - he had a big smile on his face as he filmed the parade.

I now felt a little self-conscious about my nakedness, and was relieved when Vanda opened the car and we were able to enter its shelter. She started it and moved off. I thought my day was over and that I would be able to have a quiet time for the remainder of the afternoon and the evening.

But no, it was quickly clear that Vanda was not heading back to our hotel. At least we were able to warm up after she turned the heater on.

We travelled along increasingly rough roads though barren territory until I was completely lost. Eventually, while driving through some hills she turned into a narrow gorge which seemed to end in a cave. She sounded the horn as we pulled up to a stop, and suddenly the car was surrounded by a group of figures, half hidden by the shadows in the gorge.

Vanda opened her window a little and spoke quietly to one of the shadows. After a few seconds she opened the door and stepped out, indicating that I should do the same. The figures were all wrapped in huge pieces of fur, and before long I wished I had one. Not just for my modesty (by now I had only vague memories of what that meant!) but mainly for warmth. Then Vanda and her friend led the group deep into the cave, where a fire gave some light and warmth, but not much of either.