I’ve heard it said that it is physiologically impossible to force a male Homo Sapiens to have sex, but I can testify that such a statement is a patent lie. Even if you are not a volunteer, and have no intention of participating in their pleasures, when enough beautiful, naked women spend enough time stroking your body (about thirty seconds, in this case), the gallant reflex occurs.
From then on, they have you at their mercy.
Oh, for a little while, there, I thought the fact that we were in zero-G would save me from further molestation, but as I said earlier, these women were experts at maneuvering without gravity. Furthermore, despite her earlier kindly thoughts, it was the brunette who impaled herself on me first.
The short of it was that I was soon forced into submission and raped six times.
Yes, raped!
I wasn’t in charge, I wasn’t a volunteer, and I didn’t like it.
That having been said, I don’t think that the women involved deserved twenty years in jail apiece for their crimes, which is what would have happened to three men back in the States, if they had done to a woman what these three did to me.
But God dammit! A good spanking was definitely in order!
Toward the end of my ordeal, they used my socks as a blindfold to add to the ball gag, cuffs and leg irons.
“Whoops!” One of them yelled, “It’s time to hit the deck!”
I was woman-handled to the ground just before the gravity returned.
I heard one of them opening the steel door. “Come on, you two! We gotta get out of here!”
“What about our boy toy here?”
“What about him? We gotta quit this place before we’re caught! Leave him where we found him!”
“No! I like him. I want to take him along.”
“Yeah, me too!”
“Then grab him and let’s run! We can’t stay here!”
It took all three of them to set me up on my feet, but I didn’t feel much like cooperating. I went down on my knees, and tried reasoning with them.
“Muff. Muff!” I explained.
“Look fellow, you can come with us or you can stay here, but either way, I’m going and I’ve got the keys to your cuffs in my pocket.”
“Muff.” I capitulated, and they set me upright again.
I was husteled naked out of the capsule, barefoot with my pants at my ankles. From the sound, I’d guess we went down a long corridor, and then into a much larger room. We came to some steps, where I tripped and fell forward. Before I landed, I was picked up by two pairs of strong arms and hauled up onto some sort of platform. Somebody turned me ninety degrees to the right.
“Gentlemen! May I present our guest of honor!” Ian’s voice boomed out.
The blindfold was ripped off, and I found myself on a stage in front of an audience of at least a thousand men!
“Yes, Tom, this is Your Bachelor Party!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
A Bachelor Party from Hell
Things got worse.
I was hauled to the side of the stage, still bound, gagged and naked. Meanwhile, my three former captors and molesters, who had somehow managed to get dressed in evening gowns, were acting like the models on a TV game show. With much swirling, smiling and hand waving, they opened the big curtain behind me, exposing a movie screen, and bowed out stage left.
I was forced to stand there while every man I had ever met on the island watched a movie of everything that had happened to me from the moment Ian and his henchmen walked me down to the subway.
The shouts and catcalls were loud, the display was vulgar and obscene, and I was royally pissed. People thought that assaulting me seven to one was funny. They thought that leaving me bound and gagged in a damaged time cannister was a great joke, and that my vigorous avoidance of being drowned in beer foam was marvelous comedy.
The girls got special applause for every nefarious crime they committed on my body, and came to the front of the stage individually or in a group, each time, to take a bow.
And when the bloody-be-damned thing was finally over, the crowd demanded to see it all over again. But for this performance at least, Leftenant Fitzsimmon came around and undid my cuffs and shackles. I was able to get most of my clothes back on, although I was still barefoot.
“All in clean fun, what?”
“No. Not clean fun at all, Ensign.” I left him looking stunned and went out hunting Ian. I found him in the middle of a laughing crowd.
“Damn you, Ian! You promised me that nothing like this was going to happen!”
“Not quite, Tom. I promised that I wouldn’t throw a surprise party. But you know me well enough to know that I couldn’t possibly let a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity like this go by without doing something about it. You knew I’d pull something, now didn’t you? And if you knew that it was coming, it couldn’t possibly have been a surprise, could it? So I couldn’t and didn’t throw a surprise party, and therefore I never broke my promise!”
Faced with that line of reasoning, there was only one sensible thing I could think of to do.
I hit him.
My fist caught his jaw just off center, and I heard his jaw bones make a satisfying snapping sound. He went over backward and was out cold on his back.
Then I felt much better.
There was a gasp from the crowd. A single, white-suited man flicked into and out of existence a few feet from me. A half dozen white coated men with a stretcher blinked in, put Ian on the stretcher, and then the lot of them disapeared without a sound.
Apparently, somebody had pressed his red button. Under other circumstances, I would have been fascinated, but just then I didn’t give a damn.
People backed away from me as I went over to the bar that ran down the left side of the room. The bartender handed me a quart sized boomba of full of dark beer, and I drained it on one breath.
“You know,” I said to the man next to me, a plant manager whose name I didn’t remember, “Maybe tonight is a good night to throw a party.”
The guy gave me a nod and an overly eager smile, but after seeing me deck the last person I’d talked to, you could tell that he didn’t want to get involved.
Halfway through the next beer, Captain Stepanski came over with the rest of the wedding ushers. “Sir, you weren’t serious about busting Fitzsimmon down to ensign, were you?”
“No, I wasn’t. I meant to make him a midshipman, Cadet Stepanski.”
Seargeant Kuhn was about to say something, but I cut him off with, “And that goes for the rest of you as well, Airman Basic Kuhn, or whatever that comes out to in army rank. Did you assholes actually think that you could get away with kidnapping, sexually molesting, and then publicly humiliating your Commander-in-Chief? After I had stated publicly, and in writing, that this sort of thing would not be tolerated? Because if you did, you are not only ignorant, but you are stupid as well, and both of those conditions are capital offenses in this universe!”
They were all appalled. Somehow Ian had convinced them that I’d be a good sport about it all, once I got over being angry. Well, maybe I would be, but I wasn’t anywhere near over being mad. Maybe later. Much later. Or maybe not.
“Yes sir,” Fitzsimmon said. “What are your orders for now, sir?”
“For now, well, you might as well enjoy yourselves, since your next assignments are going to be pure Hell, the absolute worst things I can think up. However, you might get some small joy in telling everybody else who participated in this fiasco, or even showed up at this party, that their careers have been wrecked as well, for laughing at the boss when he was tied up and naked, among other things. For myself, there are three women that I promised would get one hell of a spanking for the abuse they did me.”
“You’re angry at them as well, are you sir? Perhaps I can be of some assistance in locating them, in partial amends for my transgressions, as it were.”
“Assist all you want to, but it won’t do you any good. You know where they are, Fitz?”
“Well, I bloody well should! They are my wives, after all. I thought that you’d enjoy some decent, full-bodied women, after all the thin-flanked fare, hereabouts.”
“Your wives?! You sent your wives out to rape and fornicate with a stranger?”
“Well, I hardly ‘sent them out,’ sir. Actually, it was their idea, once they heard that the job was open. As to that fornicating business, you must understand that these are my wives, not my slave girls. We’re not barbarians! Our contracts call for me to be the biological father of their children, to share in their upbringing, and to support the family during that period. After that, we all get to discreetly play around a bit, when the mood strikes.”