A Very Social Scientist… by Biandrandy
I put down the phone and sat stunned. I looked at Jessica’s photo on my desk. It was a family shot with Jessica, me and her mother; my then wife Belinda. How could I respond to her bizarre and challenging request?
Belinda and me had married after a six-month affair when Jessica was eight. She was a very unhappy child, constantly at war with her mother. The story was that Jessica’s father had left the country as soon as he knew that Belinda was pregnant and hadn’t been seen since. I grew to distrust that explanation after our wedding.
Jessica and me got along alright. I treated her like one of my own children; now long grown up. Unconditional, non-judgemental love coupled with an understanding and tolerance of her outlook on life seemed to work. She was understandably suspicious at first but she soon settled down.
As soon as she had, Belinda split and I received divorce papers soon after. It seems that she just wanted somewhere safe to dump Jessica. She didn’t try to screw me in the divorce settlement, I think she was genuinely trying to find a good home for a daughter she couldn’t handle. Still, she was a wild fuck so I did have a year and a half of mind-blowing sex to look back on.
Jessica and me got along fine. She was a hard working and intelligent young woman. She soon caught up with her studies and she left Cambridge with a double-first and a doctorate in social anthropology.
Now she wanted me to fly out to Moldova to help with her research into an outlaw motorcycle gang.
Specifically, she wanted me to be her official witness and helper as she underwent a biker initiation ritual. She was planning to make herself sexually available to all 34 of the club’s male members in a mammoth gang-bang.
They would all be allowed to penetrate her vulva, mouth and anus as many times as they wanted with or without condoms as they chose, and ejaculate wherever they wanted inside or outside her body, until all were satiated.
There were to be some rules. Only penile penetration, no violence and nothing that could leave any sort of mark on her body. I was to be there to prepare her for her ordeal, to look after her interests during the event and to take care of her afterwards.
Now. My Jessica is a petite size 8, 5′ 4″ with 32B breasts. I couldn’t see how I could stop them just breaking her in half if they had a mind to.
She told me that she was flying home for a week and would explain the whole process to me and tell me why she had to do it and why I had no need to worry.
She arrived home dressed in a light summer frock looking like a school-girl on her first date. I could not at that time imagine her in the situation that she’d outlined. She certainly didn’t look like a 26 year old career woman.
I tried hard to dissuade her. She assured me that she certainly was not a virgin and had in fact given up that status a dozen years ago! She explained why her research was so important and why the ceremony was key. I didn’t understand either point at the time.
I listed my objections and she disposed of them one by one.
What about violence? How was I supposed to hold them to their agreement?
This, she explained, is the most sacred thing that they do, any violation of the rules would destroy their group integrity. If anything happened that I wanted to stop all I had to do was ask.
What about STIs?
They are all tested regularly and she would undergo a full screening before and after the ceremony. Besides, they rarely have any sort of sexual contact outside the group.
If it’s all so safe why did I have to be there at all?
As her witness and to look after her afterwards. Without a witness the ceremony would not be valid. And even though she would be offered no violence, after 34 horny bikers had shagged themselves into exhaustion she would definitely need some TLC.
Was I really the most appropriate person she could find? Hadn’t she got colleagues that might be a bit more objective? Didn’t she have a woman friend who might be more appropriate?
No, It has to be me. It must be a male and he must have a long term close relationship with the celebrant.
Celebrant?! This is gang-rape not a celebration!
No, it’s definitely not rape she was fully aware of the consequences and was not only willing but eager to undertake it.
But you’re my little girl!
Yes! I am and you’ve always understood me in a way that nobody else has ever come close. I’ll still be your little girl afterwards. I won’t have changed and I hope and trust that you are strong enough to do this for me and not see me differently afterwards.
Once they find out that you’re just using them as research subjects they could turn nasty!
They already know. In fact leaders of the group and senior faculty members have been collaborating on my protocol design — and yes — my sponsors are happy with that.
In the end I just ran out of arguments.
It was a long and tedious trip to the hills. For the last section we had to use a van that belonged to the club. She knew where it was garaged and where to find the keys. We spent that night in a small chalet that she’d been using for a year. It was just a few miles from the biker enclave and they used it for trusted outlander visitors.
The following day I went alone to the enclave to meet the gang. They needed to meet me and reassure themselves that I would play my part and would bring no harm to them. I was more worried about them bringing harm to me and Jessica! In truth I was terrified as I drove through the outskirts of the settlement to the main house.
I was met with smiles by an attractive teenager. She had a photo of me and greeted me as an honoured companion of a trusted friend. She linked arms with me and led me inside to meet whom I supposed must be the gang leader.
He was called Dennis of all things. He was in his mid fifties — a few years younger than me and he was charming. He spoke good english with an East European accent.
As I sat and chatted with him about the journey I was trying to imagine him and Jessica in a sexual embrace. I failed completely — it was as ridiculous an idea as Jessica and me!
He got down to business and explained the procedure. There was little that I hadn’t already heard from Jessica. Once the first penetration took place there was no way to stop it but up until that point I still had a veto.
This was news to me — Jessica had implied that she was the one in control and that I had no say in the matter at all. I could see why she’d kept that from me. She wanted me to get to know the gang before I refused to allow it.
Dennis was very frank about the details — not at all embarrassed to be discussing my daughter in such graphic terms.
I spent the rest of the morning meeting gang members. They seemed a fairly normal cross-section of humanity. Aged between about seventeen and early sixties. Quite a bit less obesity than I’d normally expect. They were clean, as were their clothes and houses. A bit shabbily dressed in all styles.
They gave me a light lunch and then politely asked me to leave so they could all get ready. That reminded me that I had to get back to prepare Jessica.
When I got back to the chalet Jessica was dressed in a plain cotton shift. I could clearly see the outline of her nipples through the thin cloth. I’d better get used to it. I’d be seeing a lot more before the night was out.
She lifted the hem of her dress, removed it and stood naked before me. I gasped at the sight. I was twice her age and her step-father but I could feel the quickening of my penis as I gazed on her beautiful body.
I knew my duties. I was required to bathe her and remove her armpit and pubic hair. She requested that I pluck the hairs using tweezers and it took a good hour and a half to complete the task to her satisfaction. To start with I tried to avoid touching her with my fingers but this was of course impossible. By the end I was palpating her mons to reveal any strays that I might have missed.
Her obvious state of arousal was impossible to ignore. The aroma of her vagina was driving me wild. As I crouched down between her opened knees I thought I could hide my erection. If I failed then she was sensitive enough not to draw attention to it. After she was plucked I bathed her in a deep, warm bath smoothing the soap over her body, feeling the plumpness of her small breasts. Her nipples, already semi-erect, hardened perceptibly beneath my palms as she sighed contentedly.
I couldn’t understand how she seemed so calm. Surely she understood what was about to happen to her?
After her bath I rubbed her skin with a sweet smelling balm that she gave me. I could feel the moisture of her vagina as I rubbed between her legs.
Then she dressed in a thin cotton shirt-dress. It had no buttons but was secured with a sash tied in a bow at her side.
She looked utterly stunning.
A pair of slip-on leather sandals completed her outfit.
I brushed her long auburn hair and plaited it into a single braid. She was ready.
We still had an hour before we were due to leave for the settlement. I offered to make her a sandwich but she refused saying she must fast until the ritual was over.
I had a bottle of single-malt with me, she refused that too.
I said “Well I think I’ll have one.” She laid a hand on my wrist and said “Please don’t.”
We arrived at the camp just before eight in the evening.
In the centre of the village a very large, circular, futon style mattress had been laid on the grass. It was covered with a red sheet that appeared to be sewn on. As we walked towards it the crowd parted.
Jessica stopped and turned to me. “There’s one thing that I haven’t told you. Please do this for me. Rosa will explain.” Then she reached up and kissed me on the cheek before hurrying to the centre of the mat, leaving her sandals at the edge.
I turned and there was the girl that had greeted me on my first arrival. She took me by the hand and led me to the edge of the mat. Opposite me on the other side of the mat was a strikingly beautiful woman of about my age.
She said. “We are here this evening to celebrate our men and to welcome our sister Jessica to our community”.
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