Irkutsk Ch. 21

Yulia spoke in a formal voice. "Michael and Chris, you are to be married. Marriage is a serious commitment, but your marriage will be like no other. In effect you will both be married to all of us. Intimacy will have a different meaning to include what most would regard as a crowd. You will be our leaders." I looked sharply at her, but she held a finger up to me again and continued: "It's no use arguing, Michael, you are already our leader whether you like it or not. You have led us where we are, and we have followed you, hopefully, willingly and now gratefully. It's too late to claim you aren't our leader - whatever you and Chris do, we will follow you to the ends of the earth...and from our point of view, that - Australia - is exactly where we are headed!"

She continued on a more serious note: "We need you to become familiar with the new concept of intimacy that applies to you. You are to make love...make love, that is, not just have sex, with your fiancé. We will share in your pleasure, but only vicariously. We may help when you need it, but our thoughts will be for you, not for ourselves. Off you go!"

A group of ladies lifted a huge bed onto the podium before us. It must have been four times king size, and it was covered in a huge white silk sheet. The ladies re-formed around us, escorting us towards and onto it, and we complied.

Suddenly we were surrounded by what seemed a sea of hands and tongues, fondling, exciting, arousing us. After a few minutes they moved back, leaving me needing someone, needing my Goddess, needing my wife-to-be. I looked over at her and saw that she was on her hands and knees beside me, looking at me as if she had just crawled across the Sahara and I was a glass of water. Her mouth was half open and she was already breathing irregularly. She pushed me so that I was lying on my back in front of her, gazing up at my love. I reached up with my right arm - it was gradually becoming more functional - wrapped it around her neck, and brought her face down to mine so I could kiss it. I kissed her delicately and chastely for a while.

We lasted all of five seconds before Chris swung her body around to align with mine, and slowly lowered her hips, taking in my neediness. Then for a long time she lay there motionless, her full weight upon me and with me deep, motionless, inside her. She continued to respond gently to my kisses, and one arm crept underneath me and around my lower back, but that was all for several minutes.

Eventually I noticed a feather-light fluttering inside her, as if the fingertips of some angel were inside her gently fondling me. The movement was light and slight, but rapid and repetitive. She continued that for a long while, then suddenly lifted her hips and slammed them against mine. I was deeper into her than I had ever been with anyone (and you can take that any way you wish). Then she backed off just a little and continued the fluttering.

She continued to lift herself slowly away from me until I was about to lose contact with her, so that just my very tip was receiving this treatment. I looked up at my love and was utterly absorbed in the look, both loving and lustful, with which she was gazing down at me. Well, utterly absorbed in that and what she was doing to me lower down. Despite her sexual assault upon me, however, I could not tear my eyes away from hers. I knew that she was giving me the ultimate gift of her love, in every way. I was unworthy of her and she owned my whole being. And I knew everyone else in her Brigade belonged body and soul to her too. I would devote myself to this woman for the rest of my life. I was all hers. And, impossibly, I was also all theirs.

Suddenly her eyes lost focus and the fluttering became more intense. Her hips cycled up and down on me so every millimetre of my length was enjoying her love. Clearly she, too, was also getting the benefit. I could see tension building in her jaw muscles before her head dropped, her hair brushing my face and obscuring my vision. Or at least my sight. I could still visualise her as she collapsed against me.

She would have impaled herself down on me again if I had not spent myself inside her in one exquisite fraction of a second and suddenly softened and slipped out, satisfied as I had never been satisfied before. As I had never dreamed of being satisfied before.

For a brief fraction I worried that I had let her down in her moment of need, but my Goddess immediately gave a low moan and collapsed against my grateful, loving, loved, body. I realised others were touching me all over. No movement, just fingertips, calmly and steadily keeping contact with me. I looked up and through the haze of my Goddess's hair on my face I could see fingertips on her too. I had no way of even starting to count them, but I knew every one of these forty-three ladies had shared - were still, somehow, sharing - the most personal experience of all as my Goddess and I consummated our love. It was not our first time, and it would not be our last, but it was our consummation. It was the consummation of the love between all forty-five of us.

The fingertips remained, still almost motionless, lightly touching us all over. I moved my arms to encircle my Goddess, and she moved her head slightly to closer contact with the side of my head. This slight movement was a loving embrace just as complete as what she had done to me only a few moments ago: no more and no less. I realised I was now as much a member of this Brigade as every single one of these ladies: no more and no less. They all had a special love for their Goddess, whether they called her that or not, and now I was part of that too.

After a long while gentle, loving hands lifted us both and laid us back down so we were lying apart with the fingertips of one of my hands just touching the tips of my Goddess's fingers. Then the ladies lay down around us, on and around the bed, just lightly touching us and each other, and we slept together. I was asleep but I knew we were together. The heat of the moment was over but the love, the intimacy, was undiminished. Happiness, calm and serenity was shared as one as we slept a gentle, refreshing sleep. I belonged... no, we belonged. The Brigade belonged.

We awoke together, in exactly the same positions in which we had started our sleep. Fingertips moved against fingertips. Hands held lovingly. Unhurriedly we arose and as one moved to the kitchen where we all contributed to a light breaking of our fast. For the first time in my life, too many cooks did not spoil the broth. Well, nothing was actually cooked, and it wasn't broth, but we worked together as one. We sat around just anywhere to eat and drink. I was sitting on the floor surrounded by my ladies. Not that I possessed them, I was theirs, and every one of them was everyone else's every bit as much as they were mine.

A while later I found a quiet moment to have a chat with Yulia. I was acutely aware that the ladies who had mutinied (I didn't like that term, but I wasn't sure how else to express it) had done so because they hadn't had dates with me, and despite my best efforts some still hadn't. It seemed grossly inappropriate for me to discuss arrangements to sleep with other women after committing myself totally to Chris, but Yulia pointed out that Chris had also asked her for advice on that issue. Yulia and Chris were working on a schedule that would start very soon. Those ladies (Yulia referred to them as those still waiting, which seemed a little more tactful than my description) had been involved in the discussion and were happy with the plans.

Chris and I left to go and see the registrar to make the legal preparations for the marriage. The usual waiting period was a month, but we applied for that to be reduced for a week. The fact that we already had been living together for a while, and the fact that we wanted to travel, both worked in our favour. In addition, Chris's record in sports, both as a gymnast herself and as a coach of other gymnasts, was a benefit for once. We did get formal permission, but it still seemed optimistic that we would be able to finalise the practical arrangements in time to be able to marry in a week.

We then went to the marriage celebrant whom the Australian Consul had recommended. He was free for one week hence and we booked him. We gave him some inkling of the unusual nature of our family, but did not give him the full story. He was curious that my witness ("best man" or "grooms(wo)man") would be female. This was very unusual, but he could find no rule against it. We talked about the ceremony we wanted, simple and quiet. He seemed happy with this and recommended one venue, but we had both agreed that we wanted to use the conference facility where we were staying as it already had happy memories for us. And so the plans were settled.

Yulia and I then went to a shipping office and asked about transport for forty-five passengers to Australia. We were willing to take any accommodation at all. The only option that fitted our schedule (as soon as possible after we could get married) was an Australian container ship returning to Sydney with a partial load, disembarking in five weeks after an indirect route to three other ports. The ship wouldn't need a full crew, and we would have two ten-berth cabins and could use as many empty containers as we wanted. It wouldn't be luxury, and I wasn't entirely happy that it would be suitable, but Yulia was very emphatic that it would be satisfactory. She said we wanted to go as soon as possible, and the lack of luxury would not be a problem. "Lack of luxury" seemed to me to be an understatement, but I seemed to be the only one of us with any doubts.

In any case, Yulia made the decision to book on the spot. She was just about skipping alongside me as we left the office. However, she soon settled down, telling me that the eight ladies still awaiting appointments with me could be fitted into the remaining days before the wedding. However, they had agreed that as each enjoyed my company, the other seven ladies would be in the room watching, sharing but not touching. It seemed privacy was something that would be missing from my life up to my wedding day. Yulia reminded me that our shipping arrangements meant the same lack of privacy would apply on our way south: I might as well get used to it!

We reached our hotel and a row of ladies awaited us. All the "waiting" ladies, sitting in a row on the wall outside. Yulia turned to me and said, "Back to work." She said it with a smile.

I gave her a hug and turned to my "work". They all stood up and walked towards me in single file, walking in a circle around me until I was surrounded. They then turned in to face me in the centre of the circle. The process had been military in its precision. The lady immediately in front of me spoke.

"You have just us eight left to deal with. We are all going to get what we want...need...from you tonight, whether you like it or not. You can then concentrate for a while solely upon your fiancé, and then your wife."

The circle closed around me and I was trapped. And then grabbed and bundled into the hotel and into a small room with a large bed, and very little else, in it. I wasn't surprised to find that I was being undressed, and then so were my captors. I remember thinking briefly that I must by now be the best-qualified kidnapping victim on the planet. I was getting good at it!

My captors wasted no time in getting on to their main course: me. I was massaged into hardness and pushed back while they sat on me in turn. Or turns, as one straddled my hips, another my face. There was no romance here; I was being used for sex.

In turns two sat on me while six sat or stood around me, playing with themselves or each other. No, I was wrong, there were only five. Where was the other?

I was to learn the answer to that mystery soon, as I felt something happening at the top of my head. Pressure was being applied in some spots. However, I soon lost track of that aspect of my surroundings as other things occupied my attention. I think I might also have lost track of time, as my awareness of what was happening gradually turned into a fast-changing montage of images of me and my eight lovers. I was familiar with the montage technique in video, but this was the first time I had known it to happen in real life. Or perhaps this wasn't real life: this wasn't the only aspect of recent times that seemed more like a dream sequence.

The montage developed into a pattern. A pattern not just of visual images - they were tactile , auditory - I could even smell them. Brief experiences of ridiculous, impossible sex with these eight wonderful women. Orgasms lasting hours - how could that happen in flashes lasting less than a second each? Gallons of sperm gushing from, well, just about every possible part of a sexy lady but just one part of a man, and yet I hadn't come yet. Or I didn't think I had; I wasn't so sure any more.

I decided simply to enjoy the experience and put off thinking until later. Thinking ranked pretty low in my priorities right now. I lay back and soaked up the experiences as they rolled through my mind endlessly like the swell of the ocean.

At some stage I finally erupted into what seemed like all eight all at once. I let out a shuddering sigh and abandoned myself to the sea of breasts which appeared around me. Life slowed back to a semblance of what for me was becoming normality. It would still have been a fantastic dream for anyone else, or for me just a month ago.

I lay there enjoying the relaxing pleasure of the wonderful bodies around me, noticing for the first time that they - in fact I too - had become drenched in sweat. After a while I recovered my breath and in my still-confused state of mind lay there, slowly recovering my thoughts as well.

As my head became able to encompass the past, the room, our future plans, things beyond my experiences of the last ... however long it had been ... I started to wonder what it was that had happened. I asked my companions, and they all started talking at once. Eventually they just settled on one speaker: the lady now sitting on my left hand - literally. I noticed idly that this hand was still attending to her nether regions, apparently independent of my control.

This lady seemed no less confused than I, but at least she was willing to talk about it.

"What I just experienced was impossible. That's not a figure of speech, I mean impossible." She looked down at me curiously. "I was thrusting into you. At least, I think I was. And all of you too." She looked around at the others. "And all of you into me." She looked back at me. "The only part of that that is possible is you into me, and while I really got off on that, I can't be entirely sure even that that actually happened."

I wasn't quite sure whether it was appropriate to say so, but the proof was dribbling down my wrist beneath her. I decided a slightly more delicate interpretation was better, but I was interrupted by one of the others before I could start.

"It did. I know. I can see his goo sliding out of you and down his wrist!" So much for delicacy!

I decided to ask the other question that was entertaining my thoughts. "One of you must have missed out, doing whatever it was that you were doing to the top of my head." I looked around me. "I don't want anyone to miss out. I need to make up for that."

The same lady who had just spoken answered, "I was performing some acupressure on the top of your head, but only for a short while. I got my share of what was going. Sometimes acupressure seems to continue long after it stops." I thought for a while, and yes, I could still feel fingers on top of my head, even though I knew there was no-one there. It was about the only part of me not pressed against at least one of them.

"Okay, ..." I said. "... that explains the head massage. What happened between us all?"

As I asked the question the answer was shaping itself in my mind. It was eerie as I heard another lady speak my own thoughts, as if she were spying in my mind.

"You, we all, experienced the manifestations of our darkest desires, our secret thoughts, our private desires, superimposed upon the activity that did objectively occur. Today I had the sexual experience that fulfilled every dream I could possibly have had...and some I hadn't yet dreamed. And I know we have all shared that together. I am sated, complete. And I now feel more at one with everyone in the Brigade than ever before. I wouldn't ever want to see a video of what just happened: I know what I experienced, real or not, and I want to remember it as I remember it, not what a video might show. I never before fully understood how our Goddess could be so happy to share Michael with us, but I do now."

She took a long break as we contemplated the twin shocks of the meaning of her words and the fact that those words had been the same words that had been forming in our own heads.

And then she went on: "I think we need to see what has happened outside." And we all knew what she meant.

We got up and walked out, naked and wet, to find the rest of the Brigade in various spots around the hotel and in much the same condition as we. One of us was missing, but by now we all knew where she was.

Hana had been outside enjoying the sun. She had been taken by surprise by the orgasm that had overcome her, and had collapsed in the street. A local man had taken her to hospital where she was thought to have suffered an epileptic seizure.

Yulia and Chris were hurriedly dressing to go and provide an explanation for her collapse. They couldn't tell the truth, as that was too outlandish, but they were cautious about allowing the epilepsy theory to continue, as that might affect our travel plans. They returned with Hana a little later to find us waiting impatiently in our private lounge.

Yulia had explained to the doctors that Hana had suffered an electric shock shortly beforehand. Her collapse "must have been" a delayed reaction. The doctor in charge had been sceptical, but would not take the matter further. He hadn't been convinced by the electric shock theory, but an ECG hadn't shown epilepsy and he had had no obvious alternative diagnosis.

Yulia explained something that hadn't occurred to me. Our "Brigade connection" had linked us together for the duration of the sexual experience and a little after, but it seemed not to exist at most other times. She concluded that this meant we needed to stay together or risk repeats of Hana's experience whenever any of us was having any sexual experience.

She looked at me with a half-smile on her face. "I think that means you're stuck with us, unless you could fit the sharing of our sexual experiences into a separate life."

I looked around at my loving family. "Does that mean I have to spend the rest of my life with forty-four beautiful, fit, intelligent, educated, successful, rich, loving ladies?"

Her answer was brief but complete. And insincere. "Sorry!"

I had no idea whether it was early or late, but I was done for the day, and I slid off my chair to lie on the floor. That was the last thing I remembered for that day. I awoke next morning to learn that all the others had done exactly the same, falling asleep just as they were.

We were all very hungry and started breakfast for forty five. Fortunately someone had shopped while Yulia and I had been booking our travel. Bacon and eggs for forty five was a big exercise, but very rewarding. It was the first time some of them had had bacon and eggs. Clearly I had had an influence even on such a mundane activity as another Lady's shopping habits. As we sat and ate together, I started to notice the unfamiliar pleasures of bacon and eggs. Familiar to me, but unfamiliar to most of the Ladies. And, therefore, unfamiliar to me through them. It was going to take a while before we had a handle on this link between us.