Caution: This Group Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mult, NonConsensual, Mind Control, BiSexual, Slut Wife, Cuckold, MaleDom, FemaleDom, Humiliation, Gang Bang, Group Sex, Interracial, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Sex Toys, Cream Pie, Transformation,
Desc: Group Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Peggy catches her man with another woman and takes a job out away from normal society. She is locked into a six-month stint being the house wife for thirty horny men led by a sadistic sick man who needs to be controlled himself. Peggy never knew she would get into sex the way she did. When she returns to her old life, nothing is the same.
I huddled myself tighter into the fur lined parka, as I watched the unbroken vista of gleaming snow pass beneath the wings of the small airplane. It wasn't as if the cabin was cold, but the mere thought of the bitter barrenness that unfolded beneath my semi-focused gaze it was enough to stipple Goosebumps all over my body. If only Matthew had been faithful!
Sadly, I audited the wreckage of my life. Here I am, twenty three years old. No family, very few friends and because of a car wreck, I will never have any children. My whole world had revolved around my lover. Ok, so he wasn't handsome, not in the conventional sense, nor was he rich and powerful. He wasn't even a particularly good lover. My knowledge in this area was previously limited to a furtive, drunken, coupling with a barely known teenager on my fourteenth birthday. From what I heard from the girls at work, my sex life was also fairly dull and conventional. Certainly if their giggled tales of sexual gymnastics were to be believed.
He wasn't even a man's man, but he made my laugh. He could tease delighted shrieks of merriment from my even with the most mundane aspects of my life. What few friends we did have couldn't believe how happy we seemed, always laughing and constantly contriving to touch each other. Seeking reassurance that our wonderful, wonderful partner did indeed exist.
My world was shattered when I paid a surprise visit to his office. I caught him with her, it was not as though the girl was especially beautiful. In fact the more I thought of her the uglier she became. Granted I had a nice body, nicer than most. I acknowledged rightfully, and I have a cute face and very shapely body. But anyone, certainly any woman, could see that she was a predator. The big hair, the tight clothes, the short skirt that somehow, but only just, managed to stay on the right side of the line between erotic and obscene.
The signs were all there to see. She was a man hunter, a shark; perfectly at ease on the seamier side of the corporate jungle that she had made her home. And Matt fell for her, hook, line and sinker. She had carefully snared her prey, Matt just become another pelt on the vixen's bedpost when new pastures beckoned.
Looking back it was the brutal surprise of it all that caused me to over react. Weeping, I had stumbled from the office, with the pitying stares of Matt's colleagues piercing my back like barbed arrows. I drove for hours trying to piece together the shattered puzzle of my life. It was as if some malevolent god had noted that I was becoming too happy, and then decided to crush my spirit in one brutal act.
I took to a room in a mean hotel and only surfaced occasionally to grab a quick snack before disappearing again to confront my misery. It was on one of these forays that I decided to pick up a local paper, to help take my mind off of my loss with the parochial scribbling of a small town rag. From that point on my life executed a series of jumps, like a movie slipping from the projector's sprockets. I saw the job ads. One in particular grabbed my attention. It seemed to be just what I needed. I applied, I was interviewed, and I was accepted. Just like that! Oh I had to get a physical and fill out tons of paper, but it was a done deal for a six-month live in job for a Gas company way up in the Alaskan backcountry.
So I went back to our apartment to get a bag full of clothes. Matt clearly hadn't been home. This pierced my heart and honed my resolve to get far away from him and his whore. With my head held high and my backed straight, I walked out of my old life and into my new. Which is why I found myself gazing out at hundreds of miles of white, frozen, desert as the plane snored deeper into the wastes of Northern Alaska. I looked around the small cabin of the plane noting, the strapped down boxes of supplies and the three empty seats. The flight crew had informed my that this was probably going to be the last flight that winter, before the weather descended and socked the airfield in tight. I cuddled deeper and tried to sleep as the arctic sun prescribed its low, autumn, parabola and slowly disappeared from view.
When we arrived the wash of the propellers threw stinging clouds of snow at my as I wobbled down the aircraft steps. The bitter cold, felt even through my fur-lined clothing, felt like a million stinging needles on its way down into my lungs. I was so wrapped up in reaching the sanctuary of the huddle of buildings, hunkered down and barely visible in the snow that I almost failed to notice the small figure that was being guided out to the aircraft.
The size and build, discerned even through the layers of swaddling, indicated it was that of a woman. My predecessor evidently I raised a mitten in salute but the girl stumbled blindly towards the aircraft. I tried to call out but the bitter wind tore my words to pieces scattering them, in a million unconnected fragments, over the bleak wasteland. I was about to turn and shout again but I noticed a figure, dark against the gleam of the ice, beckoning my furiously towards the larger of the buildings. So I hurried, as best I could across the snow-covered ground, towards the haven within the building.
I hurried over as the wrapped figure beat his hands against the opposing upper arms, and stamped his feet, in an attempt to stave off the cold. Once within the wind shadow of the building the incessant, mournful, howl of the wind dropped enough for my to recognize the man shouting. "Hurry up. This is no place to be out playing in the snow." The wind robbed me of the sentiment in the voice but I agreed with the spirit and virtually sprinted the last few yards. As the air trap closed behind me I heard the roar of the aircraft's engines as it tore into the night sky. The man pulled off a mitten, once we were safely inside, and held out his hand. I reciprocated. "Hi I'm Bernard De'Ville and I'm the site manager, but most people call me Bud or Buddy." "Peggy White. Pleased to meet you Bud." I said He smiled. It was not a beautiful smile, but it made a homely counterpoint to the raw loneliness that I had been with for the past few hours.
"Come in, come in. Let me show you round your new home." He beckoned. "Make yourself comfortable, take that heavy coat off. We keep this place pretty warm as you will soon find out and you'll be sweating in no time if you keep that thing on." I had already noted the almost sub-tropical heat of the place. Still we didn't have a heating bill problem as we made gas here, or dug it up or whatever we did. I surmised from what I had been told, but the details escaped me. I shucked off my coat and the heavy sweater and stood clad in my checked lumberjack shirt and blue jeans. (The standard company issue) I felt a mild twinge of unease, as I noticed the site manager appraising my, but decided to suppress it, female company was probably pretty scarce around here. He indicated a chair. "Please. Sit down. Coffee?" "Love one." "Sugar, cream?" "Just cream thanks."
While he went to get their coffees I looked around. This building was obviously the mess hall where the crewmen ate and where I would be working. It was plain, functional and utilitarian. Consisting of a serried row of battered tables and a liberal scattering of chairs. I could see the small kitchen area behind the counter where I was to prepare the meals for the crew.
He came back, placed the coffee on the table, swung a chair round and sat facing me. His unwavering gaze and rigid posture again unnerved me, so I sought to relieve the tension by asking. "Where are my bags?" "Oh we've been unloaded, they will be ok." He said as he waved airily in the direction of the departed plane. He stared at me for a few seconds more but then seemed to notice my discomfiture and asked. "What'd did they say you would be doing up here for us?" he asked "Who?" I responded looking back at me he then said "The weenies that interviewed you. What did they say you would be doing up here?" I smiled and said "Oh just Cooking and stuff for the crew here, on the base." He sort of smiled and said, "Stuff! What stuff?"
I responded, "washing pans and stuff I guess. Kitchen stuff." He then changed his look and said "Nothing else?" I shook my head slowly, puzzled and mildly alarmed at his tone. He appeared to change the subject by asking; "Do you know what we call the job?" I answered "No, what?" He then said "The substitute wife. Short for substitute wife I guess." I smiled with a laugh in my voice and said "Wife?" Bud responded sharply "Yeah, wife! You'll be doing all the things a wife would do. ALL the things."
He leered suggestively. I looked at him wondering "What things?" I asked He laughed a short bark. "We didn't recruit you on the basis of your towering intellect did we? What the hell do you think I mean?" "Cooking, cleaning, maybe a little sewing and." There was a long pause. I then asked "And what?" He hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Fuck girl you're dense. What else do wives do, besides cook, clean and vacuum the carpets?"
I could feel my heartbeat change it was pounding what had I gotten into here? My mouth was dry and my tongue felt so dry it was like a stick in my mouth. I had to sip the coffee before asking. "You don't mean... ?"
"Give the girl a flower." He clapped his hands slowly. "Yep good old fashioned fucking, just the thing to ease away the cares and woes of a working day." I was shock, terrified, and scared all rolled into one. "I can't do that!" I exclaimed, He shrugged and said, "I don't see you got much choice honey. You are over a thousand miles from anything remotely like civilization and there isn't any taxis round here. You're going to be here for six months making $5,000.00 a month from the company. Of course I am not counting the money you may make fucking the locals"
I could feel a tear trickling down my cheek as I tried to come to terms with the stark reality of my situation. "We got a quota." He continued. "After all we don't want you to tucker you out, now do we? We know that if you're all tuckered out we do we won't get fed. Wanna hear about it?" I stared at him in disbelief.
It appeared he or they had it all planned. It was then that I understood the single-minded eagerness of my predecessor to get away. Again he shrugged as I failed to answer. "Ok I'll tell you anyway. There are thirty guys that work this base. And twelve Local Eskimos but for right now, just be concerned with the thirty of us. Now we reckon that it isn't fair for a guy to go without sewing his oats for more than a week or so at a time. It ain't healthy like."
He looked at me but I just stared, ignoring his mild witticism as the horror unfolded before my. "So we think that you should do your wifely duties with three guys every working day. I'll spell it out for you in case you're as dumb as you make out; you will fuck three guys a night, five nights a week. And by the way before you go thinking about taking time off because you are on your period, don't bother, some of the guys like fucking a woman when she is on the rag. And of course you have two holes down there and several of they guys only like fucking the poop shoot so to speak. Don't try telling us you have any disease or shit like that because that medical you had done was to check you out to make sure you did not bring us any crap like that. I also know you can't get knocked up, soooo Got that so far?" he asked. I stared. "I said you get that?" He asked again "Come on you can't be that dumb!" I nodded tearfully.
"Good. Now it isn't too bad, just a straight fuck, and no fancy stuff. Be all over in less than an hour. See, easy! That's during the week. Weekends we're a bit different. You see we run an incentive scheme when we choose the worker of the week. We use to give more money, but we haven't got anywhere to spend it so we came up with another reward. Wanna know what that is?"
I had a feeling I already knew, but kept my mouth shut. "Its you honey. The worker of the week gets to spend the whole of Saturday night with you. To spice it up a bit, and to encourage the guys to pitch in and work, we let them do what they want with you. They can do anything except mark you up. Nothing permanent, that would take away the pleasure from the other guys, other than that, anything goes. Where going to extend your education honey. You going to see how the other half live, now ain't that exciting?"
He laughed. I looked miserably at him. This can't be happening. This was so awful. "Course you gonna be tired so we give you Sunday off. Now ain't that thoughtful?" "You... You said they could do anything! What do you mean?" He cocked his head on one side, stared at the ceiling (as if in thought) then ticked the items off his fingers.
"Let's see. We've had straight fucking. Gangbangs, ass fucking, circle sucking, A bit of bondage. Dressing up. Hell you know honey, you've been around. Oh wait that's right the doctor said you have only had two lovers in your life so far, oh well, six months from now you can add forty-two to that number."
I had to ask, "What would happen if I refused?" He sat upright and stared, hard, at me, then poked his finger towards my face. "Now we take kind of a dim view of that sort of thing. We get all riled up, if you know what I mean. You wouldn't like it, believe me. We had that happen a couple times before and we had to do things like whip the bitch. We have even tied them to the bed and gangbang the fuck out of em. Now, I don't think you'd like that honey, so I suggest you don't get us mad.
Thirty horny guys, all fired up and out of control, take a lot of fucking before we'd all settle down again. Take my advice, the easy option is to do as you're told, learn to enjoy all the sex and at the end of six months you may just go home with another $5-6,000.00 bonus if not more. When the boys like a gal, they really let here know it; they shower her with money, lots of money. We want the kind of wife that can feed us, and be a slut for us, are you getting all this honey?"
Now the tears were pouring in a constant stream down my face. I bent my head and stared at my hands, which were knotted tight, in my lap. He took it as an affirmation. "Right I guess you want to get started. I bet you're all eager and willing, on the first day of a new job and all. So how's about if you just get out of that constricting clothing. Give yourself a bit of freedom to work?"
His jocular tone belied the terror of the words and, at first; I failed to grasp what he was suggesting. Slowly it began to sink in and I looked up at him, eyes full of tears and mouth down turned at the corners. "Please don't!" "Don't start fucking crying." He said harshly. "Or I'll get fucking mad and you definitely won't like that. So get your duds off like you've been told."
The air was electric with the crackling energy of their wills fighting furiously over my honor. Then I began to yield. The set of the shoulders, the hang of my head, my tentative fingers stealing up towards the top button on my shirt. We all told the same tale.
Slowly, weepingly, I started to unbutton the buttons on my shirt. My fingers felt like chunky sausages as I fumbled with the smooth plastic. As I neared half way, and just when my snow-white bra was beginning to heave into view, he barked. "Stand up - He raised both palms up and raised his arms - go on, up, up. That's it. Good. Right carry on." He rested his chin on the palm of his hand, elbow on table, as he watched my resume my humiliating strip. As I finished unbuttoning the shirt, I hesitated, as if awaiting instructions.
Noisily he pulled the chair back, clattering it to the floor. I looked up as he stormed into an adjacent room. He came back, face like thunder, and laid a thin whip on the table. His motives were plain; if I didn't strip I'd soon be feeling that across my ass cheeks. And I didn't think he'd be gentle with my. Then I would only end up doing it anyway. My mother told me that when I knew I was going to be raped that I should not fight it.
She told me when there was no way out of being raped I should remember every tiny detail to tell the police. I should not fight back because the rapist enjoy it when a girl fights back. She told me to let the guy or guys have me and pray every moment that they won't kill me. In her eyes if I did that, nothing more would happen to me other than the rape; I had to survive to tell the police everything. I realized that I did not have any option. It was plain and simple, I had no choice but to cooperate or be hurt, I stripped.
He watched, occasionally licking his lips as he surveyed the ever-increasing expanse of smooth, taut, flesh. Finally I stood before him, naked and ashamed. Hands grasped tightly before my crotch. "Take your hands away." He said, I just stood there "I said, take your hands away. Put 'em on your head."
He picked up the whip then slammed it down hard, flat on the table. The harsh crack made me jump. "I said take your fucking hands away... Right! That's better. Put 'em on you head. That's right, mesh your fingers together. Good. Open your legs slightly, come on. Do you want me to use this whip? No? Well, do it then. Good. Now look at me. Come on, look straight at me. Come on. Right! Now listen..." I stood naked. Legs parted, hands clasped firmly on my head, face beet red with humiliation. I looked as pretty as a picture.
"That's how you're gonna be from now on" I went to say something but he held up his hand and said, "shut up. Good! Now its only fair that you give the guys an eyeful we all love a red head, and you will have to trim that red bush of yours, you will have to shave the bottom half and keep it shaven. You must leave some of that pretty red hair up around the top of your hole though, some of us like a little hair.
You'd better get used to being butt naked around here, 'cause that's how you're going to be for a while honey. Oh, before I forget, don't worry about getting spills on you when you cooking, we got a nice apron for you to wear. A clear, plastic, one of course We wouldn't want the guys to miss out on saying hi to that pretty pussy of yours. Just like any husband may want to do when his wife is cooking, he might come up behind you and slip you a quickie while your bending over pulling out a pot or pan. You getting all this?"
He paused for an answer. "Ok, suit yourself, you'll learn this soon enough anyway. Ok, so since I'm the boss of the site, it is my job to conduct all the service training." Moved to me and placing his hand on my back he propelled me towards my bedroom. It just happen to be right next to the day room and mess hall.