As I sat on the plane with six other prisoners transferring from the regional prison to the high security prison on the outskirts of the city; over six hundred miles away, my thoughts went to how stupid I was. Stupid or just out of luck, both the same I think.

I had held up a bank, which was easier than I thought. I sped off in the car I had stolen from a car park only half an hour before and made my way out of the town. I had only gone over a mile when the car just stopped, right outside the police station where four police officers were waiting.

I had stolen a car with a global positioning device and burglar activation device fitted. All they had to do was track me on a screen, then cut the engine as I neared the police station. The bastards didn't need to walk more that twenty yards, and I was arrested. Their making it harder and harder to steal cars, I had read about this device but never thought I would see one.

Anyway I was given seven years, ten but with parole I should be out in seven. So here I was with a bunch of 'no hopers' like myself leaving this easy going jail for the high security one. We were to make a detour and pick up two others who were being imprisoned, so the journey will take a bit longer than the two hours. In fact the journey was to take double that.

I had a seat by the emergency door, which had a bigger window than the others and I had a better view of the desolate area we were flying over. There was nothing; once leaving the runway after fifteen minutes there was no sign of a human, or any of his buildings, only bush and more bush.

We had been airborne about forty minutes when the two jet engines just stopped. The sudden quietness was deafening. Now all we heard was the sound of the wind and the plane dropping like a brick. The plane was dropping so rapid that my ears started popping, then the nose dropped and we even went faster. A couple of times the engines sounded as if they were to start, but nothing, just the feeling of plunging earthwards.

I could do nothing for I was handcuffed to the seat, so all I could do was get my head down between my knees and pray. Not much good that will do at the speed we were falling. Then I heard the engine take and the nose rise, but at the same time we hit the ground, then everything went black.

I woke to a dim light, lying in a bed. The reason it was dim was the windows had thick curtains and the light only showed around the edges. The room was spartan, bare scrubbed floorboards and only the bed and a hard backed chair in the room. The room was only about eight feet both in width and length, almost as big as a cell.

I felt bruised all over and when I went to move my arms and legs they felt stiff and painful. At least I was alive and wondered where I was, for the handcuffs and leg irons were off, but this was no prison hospital. I could hear sheep, hundreds of them and voices away in the distance, and the sound of a diesel engine thumping away outside. The engine was a static one for the pitch never changed, so it was driving something.

Just then the door opened and in came a rough looking woman, but I heard a key first turn in the lock before she came in. I would say she was in her early fifties, with her hair tied back tight and in a bun. The woman was wearing jeans and a thick shirt without sleeves tucked into the jeans, held up by a thick leather belt. Here was some fit woman; I could tell by the way she walked into the room. Also I doubt if she had an ounce of fat on her, but she sure was top-heavy and I doubt if she even wore a bra by the way her breasts bounced.

"Where am I?" I asked trying to sit up, but the pain in my stomach drove me back.

"Chrissie, he's awake at last," she shouted over her shoulder.

Then another woman entered almost the same age and dressed the same. "Hell, Betty I was wondering when he would surface," she said smiling down at me, or was it a smile.

"It doesn't matter where you are, we found you by the wrecked plane, well what was left of it. You were thrown clear still attached to your seat," Betty answered abruptly.

"Hasn't anyone visited the crash site?" I asked.

"Yes and gone, there were no survivors, all burnt to a cinder, everyone," Chrissie added.

"Was I the only one to get out of the crash, why haven't they taken me back into protection?" I again asked.

"Sorry you died in the crash too, Frank Wendell, isn't it?" Betty said with a leer on her face, not a smile.

"Surely they counted the bodies," I enquired.

"They sure did, but the plane landed on top of an itinerate worker who had been having a quiet drink. The crash people made a body count they included him as well and were happy with the count, so you are dead Frank. We know all about you Frank, you made a cock-up of getting away didn't you," Betty again sneered.

"What do you want me for then, I have done nothing to you," I said now getting worried.

"Once the shearers leave tomorrow, you will be doing something for us, I can assure you Frank, but this is now your cell until we can trust you," she said.

Both of them left all smiles. I heard the key turn in the lock and then a bar dropping into place on the other side of the door. Bloody hell the cows have locked and barred the door. I struggled and got to my feet and made it to the window and pulled back the curtain to find the windows barred and all I could see were bushes in the distance.

Under the bed was an old-fashioned piss-pot, I suppose they wanted me to use that. Then I noticed that I was wearing an old-fashioned nightgown. Hell these women had left me without any dignity at all. I was in a situation worse than it had been in prison.

It took three days before I could walk around without feeling every step was a torture. Twice a day one of them brought me in a meal, which would have fed three men and a large cup of tea three times a day. They never forgot me needing to do a dump for they led me carrying the piss-pot to a toilet next door to the room I was being held in. The toilet was basic, a bowl with a cistern high up on the wall and a chain, a type I thought went out in the nineteen forties. The small mesh covered vent would hardly let a cat through, but at least they let me close the door.

Once I was able to get around with a walking stick they allowed me out into the open-air. It was then I saw the house for the first time, it was standing in the middle of nowhere. Nearby was a shearing shed and pens, but now no sheep, but the smell of sheep was heavy in the air. I slowly turned around looking into the distance, there was nothing; away on the horizons were shadowy hills which could be between ten or a hundred miles away.

"As you can see Frank, better men than you have tried to travel this country light and failed. Resign yourself to the fact that you are stuck here. This evening you can have your meal with us and we will tell you what we want of you, maybe it isn't as bad as you think," Betty said walking away smiling and humming to herself.

What do these women want from me? They know all about the robbery, are they wanting me to commit some crime for them, shit I can't even do it right for myself. Also I could do with some descent clothes; I felt a right Burke dressed in this long nightgown.

As for the clothes I need not have worried, for when I returned to my small room there was a pile of fresh clothing on the bed all neatly stacked and ironed. What I needed was a shower, so I went looking for one of the women. It was Chrissie I met.

"Any chance of getting a shower, before I get changed," I asked.

"Use the shower outside the shearing shed that is the one the shearers use," was all she said.

Returning I saw that a towel and a bar of laundry soap was on the chair. I was certain it wasn't there when I was in the room previously, but there was also an old cut-throat razor beside the soap. I have never used a cut-throat razor in my life, I only hope there is a mirror by the shower.

After showering in rather primitive conditions I got dressed and walked through the house to where I was told to go. Both the women were wearing dresses, not the latest boutique model, but not what I expected them to be wearing. In fact I was surprised to see them so well-dressed and now they had their hair brushed and make up on, they looked passable.

"Well you have had a good look around; you can see we are miles from anywhere. You know you wouldn't last a day out there on foot. At this time of the year with no shade and the temperatures up in the forties, you could never carry enough water to quench your thirst, so you are far better off staying here with us," Betty said smiling.

"You haven't told me why you have gone to all this trouble and deception," I asked looking at them both.

"We are spinsters and have a reputation to uphold, what we want is a man about the place to take care of our physical needs," Chrissie chirped up.

"You said you had shearers here when I arrived, couldn't you have asked one of them to stay?"

"No, it had to be a stranger, someone that wasn't known and you fitted the bill to the tee," Chrissie again said.

"Well what exactly do you want me to do?"

"Fuck us, I could have put it more delicately, but let's call a spade a spade shall we. Tell us a bit about yourself Frank before you say yes or no," Betty said not at all embarrassed. It was me who was taken aback by the statement.

"Sure why not, in fact I much prefer older women. Why did I say that, well my mother used to tease me on the size of my penis from as far back as I could remember. When I became a teenager she used to deliberately sit with her dress up high, opening and closing her legs when she was wearing no panties and laughing when she saw my reaction. My mother knew I used the binoculars that she gave me incidentally to spy on women at night in the neighbourhood.

It was then she used to ask if I thought her better than the women I spied on. This went on until I was sixteen, then one night I had enough, she came in from a night out with her friends and I shafted her, right there on her own bed. She cried rape, so I left and never went back home. I feel thrilled that you have asked me, but why now, surely you're getting past it," I said like an idiot.

"Thank you for telling us that Frank, but we won't be teasing you. As for your question it's the opposite Frank, since our periods stopped we need a man more than we ever wanted one. Then when we saw the way you were built that clinched it, we wanted you. Also when we saw that Simon had been killed, he was almost the same build as you, we got the keys from a guard and switched the manacles. It was ghastly, and then we set the plane on fire, for it hadn't caught fire when it crashed. So you can see we committed a crime also," Betty smiling said.

Now I'm only five feet seven, but broad like a weight-lifter and a cock that is an embarrassment, well it was until now. I never thought I would hear two women actually praising my ten and a half-inch appendix. I'm only twenty-six and these women could be my mother, either of them.

"What else have I to do, other than bedding you both?" I asked, looking forward to this.

"Nothing, you can leave when the shearer's return, that is if you want to, but remember it could be a bit awkward for you, if suddenly you turn up in your old haunts. I am sure the police would soon have you behind bars soon enough, here you have two women all to yourself, night about," they both said.

"One condition, no more locked up in that tiny room."

"No you will sleep in one of our beds from now on, is that fair," Chrissie replied.

"Well when do we start?" I asked.

"Chrissie tonight, she won the cut, but first we have our meal, from now on we are a family," Betty replied with a lovely smile on her face.

Hell I was going to enjoy this, this was far better than any prison. In a way it was better for me for now, I have nowhere to go to get into trouble, but would I get tired of knocking off these two women, time will only tell.

Chrissie's bedroom was the most feminine bedroom I'd ever been in, not that I had been in many. Who would have thought a rough looking woman during the day would have such a lavish bedroom with frills and cuddly dolls adorning all the flat surfaces. I had walked in first and had stopped in the middle, admiring all this frilliness, when I turned Chrissie was just standing with her back against the closed door.

"Do you know you are the first man to have set foot in this room since I was sixteen? The last man who came in here wasn't invited, he was my father. I never thought I would ever have another man in here," she said then just looked at me. She was about three inches taller than me, but that made no difference.

"Well you invited me in here, are we just going to stare at each other all night?"

"I hope not, but I want you to turn your back while I undress," she replied.

I did as she asked but I caught a glimpse of her in the mirror, she had her back to me also. Not waiting any further I quickly dropped my clothes and got into bed and lay and watched her.

When she turned and saw that I had been watching her, "Were you watching me Frank?"

"Hell Chrissie I'm not only going to see you but I'm going to feel and fuck you, and here you are worrying if I can see your tits and a bit of pussy hair," I shot back.

"Well I'm a bit shy when it has come to the time."

When she got into bed she was like a board, all stiff and rigid. I put my arm around her and drew her closer, while one hand went and caressed her exposed breast, for at least she had come to bed naked. Gently rubbing her nipple and massaging her soft breast she started to relax and even had a hand around me, but lightly. I leant forward and down and started kissing the breast I had been massaging. This brought an intake of air through her clenched teeth.

Now the hand was pressing harder on my back, almost begging me to continue. The nipple in my mouth became more rigid and I started rubbing it between my teeth ever so lightly. All this time while I was working her nipple in my mouth my hand was moving gently in circular movements down her body. At last my hand was cupped over her mound, with my middle finger slowly rubbing up and down the crack of her labia.

Not even having touched her clitoris her breathing had become rapid and the legs opened so there was no hindrance at all. It was then I started sliding down the bed, taking in the scent of her body, that lovely woman smell one gets when a woman is aroused, kissing all the way down. Now she had two hands on my head and I was doing something to her I doubt she had never considered.

Using my tongue to work on her clitoris it was like a little penis all hard and standing out from its little hidey hole. I by this time had two fingers buried in her vagina and she was running like a tap. Slipping back up her body and then guiding my penis into her wet pussy I just slipped in about halfway before she realised it, unconsciously raising her knees and feet off the bed and wrapping her arms around me. I couldn't believe how lovely she felt as I slid easily in to that lovely warm pussy right up to the hilt until our pubic hairs were entwined.

"Oh Frank this is lovely," she said into my ear.

"You're not bad yourself Chrissie, in fact I would say you are awesome, best woman I've ever had," I replied.

"You really mean it Frank."

"Of Course I do, I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it," I replied. Of course I would have replied the same no matter what woman was under me at the time, for the pussy you are in is always the best.

She now worked her hips in a way that showed she was enjoying having ten and a half inches of meat inside her, or she was a good actor. Never have I come across a woman who was so well lubricated as she was either, as I slid in and out of that love-nest like a well-oiled piston.

Now it had been a while since I had last been with a woman and this delight brought me on a lot sooner than I would have liked. Chrissie and her sister did say they were passed child-bearing age so I just let loose and flooded her, then collapsed on to her chest. Now her legs wrapped around me and held me tight, locked within her body. Her arms also tightened and I felt as though I was held in a vice, but a very pleasurable one.

"Frank, can you call me Christine and not Chrissie? All my life I've been called Chrissie, but my name is Christine, no-one has ever called me by my proper name," she asked, her head alongside mine.