The Lumberjacks

Team Morale Specialist, my foot. They're looking for a fucking whore. I'm not that desperate. I look through the rest of the listings my search turned up. Nothing even vaguely possible. I put in applications to four of them anyway. I need a miracle right now.

I look at the eviction notice sitting on the desk next to me. And the stack of other bills. Maybe I am that desperate. What the hell. I'll talk to them. Maybe it's not what I think. I can always say no.

I'm shocked when I get a reply from them two hours later, asking for a zoom interview this afternoon. Here's where the rubber meets the road, I guess. I take a deep breath and agree to the interview.

I clean myself up and put on my interview suit, a charcoal power skirt and jacket over a sedate pale blue silk blouse. Ten minutes before the interview was scheduled, I click on the link and waited.

Two minutes before the scheduled time slot, a middle aged man in a poorly fitting suit appears on the screen.

"Melanie Sanderson?"

"That's me. Please call me Mel."

"Okay, Mel. My name is Jack Symmington. I work for a large lumbering company and, at the instigation of a group of our lumberjacks, we have been trying a new program for the last nine months, with great success thus far. Before we go any farther, may I ask you to stand up and turn all the way around once, slowly."

I look at him oddly, but do as he asked.

"Would you please take off your jacket and turn around one more time?"

"Nothing more than the jacket is coming off. You're not some creep just running this as a scam to get women to strip for you, are you?"

"No, I assure you the job is very real. I need to make sure the team will not be disappointed with the hire. Okay, that's good. You'll be fine."

"Just what the hell is this job? I never heard of a Team Morale Specialist before. Are you hiring a prostitute? What are the expectations of me in this job, if I take it?"

"It's largely what you choose to do. Your official responsibility is to keep a team of twenty lumberjacks happy. You will be living with them for thirteen weeks in a remote logging camp, no easy way back from there, so all twenty one of you are stuck there for the duration. Exactly what you do with them to keep them happy is up to you, but you should be aware that they have some sexual expectations."

"So you are expecting me to fuck twenty lumberjacks often enough to keep them all happy?"

"Not all of them want direct interactions with you. In particular, some are married and choose to maintain their vows. And when they proposed this plan, the lumberjacks realized that sleeping with the entire team was not sustainable for the entire three months. So they came up with a scheme. All interested men would put their names in a hat and the specialist would draw six names for the evening's entertainment. As long as you keep the team happy, you are free to do whatever you want with the six."

"If I'm only servicing six of them, how is the rest of the team staying happy?" I can't believe I'm talking as if I would actually do this. I haven't slept with six guys in my lifetime, let alone in one evening.

"Oh, our teams are very tight. Everything you do will be on a stage in the mess hall with the rest of the team sitting around watching. All for one and one for all and that sort of thing."

I can feel myself blushing. And getting wet. Oh my god, I'm not actually considering this, am I?

"The ad says three evenings a week for four hours each. Is that correct?"

"So far, it's been Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday evenings each week, although I'm sure you could shift that schedule with the team if you wanted to."

"What happens if what I want to do isn't what the team wants out of me."

"The team has the authority to fire you if they feel you are not properly doing your job. You would remain living and eating with them for the remainder of the contract period, but you would no longer receive your pay for any remaining weeks. They have their own incentive to not fire you, because they will not have any morale specialist for the remainder of their stint either."

"So I just have to do enough to keep them happy enough not to fire me."

"If you want to keep getting paid, yeah."

"Do I sleep in the barracks with them?"

"No, you have your own cabin, with its own shower, so you do not have to use the communal shower. Whether you spend time in their barracks I guess depends on your relationship with the team. You will see them at breakfast and dinner every day at a minimum."

"What do I do with myself during the day when they are out yelling timber and cutting down trees or whatever it is they do?"

"That's completely up to you. There is power, but there is no internet connectivity and your phone will have no signal. So you need to be able to entertain yourself. Do you like to read? If you're a writer, I suppose the experience would make an interesting book."

I nodded to him, uncertain what comes next.

"So can I sign you up?"

"Um." Can I really do this? I look over at the eviction notice. Do I have a choice? I'm out on the street next week. It's at least a roof over my head and food in my belly if I get there and decide I can't do it. "I guess so. What's next?"

"Can you come down to the offices tomorrow at 10 and do the paperwork? The bus leaves Saturday morning at 6AM."

"Bus?"

"It's the only way to the site. It takes 26 hours to get there."

"It's a 26 hour bus ride?"

"Well, there are two one hour stops for food and let everyone stretch their legs. And most importantly, to swap drivers. There is a bathroom on the bus for each eight hour stint. That same bus will bring back the crew that's there now."

"Does that crew have a morale specialist, too?"

"Yes. You will be our fourth morale specialist, finishing out our first year of this program. It has been very successful so far. We've gotten a six percent improvement in productivity and two fewer injuries in the first nine months. You will be doing a valuable service, to the team and to the company."

"Do I get my signing bonus tomorrow?"

"You can, if you really need it."

"I need it to clean up some loose ends before I go away for three months."






The address for the office is a nondescript suite in a somewhat rundown section of the city. I knock on the door and Jack Symmington lets me in. He appears to work alone in this office.

"Do you work for the company, Mr. Symmington?"

"Please call me Jack. No. I'm a contract recruiter. I assemble this team every quarter, but I do other recruiting jobs for other projects, both for the lumber company and for other companies. I have to say, hiring the Morale Specialists is the most unusual hire I make. And my favorite."

I fill out fairly standard paperwork for the job. Nothing that seems weird, other than I guess the job title. But even that sounds like standard corporatese. At the end, he hands me a check for $753.81.

"I thought it was a thousand dollar signing bonus?"

"It is, but we have to do the standard withholdings."

I nod. I had forgotten that. Shit. I had kind of planned out how to spend this money down to the penny. I will need to rethink some of this. Quickly.

"So you need to be here Saturday morning. The bus leaves sharply at 6AM. If you miss it, you owe us that money back. And we will find you."






Renting a truck is one of the expenses that has to go. I guess I have to call Bryce. This is going to be awkward. I take a deep breath, take out my phone, and find him in my contacts. At least I didn't delete his contact when I said I would.

"Hi, Bryce. This is Mel."

"Mel? Melanie Sanderson?"

"Yeah, it's me. I know I swore I would never talk to you again, but I suddenly have a big favor I need to ask you. You might have heard I've been having a problem getting a new job. I just agreed to a three month contract for a job, um, overseas. And, um, I'm not going to keep my apartment while I'm gone, so I need to put my stuff in storage. And I, um, thought about your truck and how strong you are and how you offered to help me whenever."

"Mel, that was before you threw me out of your life and swore you would never talk to me again."

"I know that, but I really need this. Please?"

"What's in it for me?"

"Would you do it for a blowjob?"

"Jesus, Mel, I used to have to beg for a blowjob. You MUST be desperate. Okay, When?"

"Well, I leave Saturday morning."

"Damn. I was figuring it was going to be over the weekend. Okay. Tomorrow at four?"

"Thanks, Bryce. You're a godsend. I owe you one."

"How about a drink together when you get back."

"I can do that." God knows what I will do when I get back from this. What I will be capable of doing.

I rent a storage unit, paying four months up front.

I then dive into packing all my stuff, either for the three month job or for storage.






Bryce is there at 3:57 and we start moving stuff down into his truck. On one of our last loads, he sees the eviction notice. I was certainly not packing it, so it had just been left on the kitchen counter.

"What the hell is going on Mel? Are you okay?"

"It's been tough. I am going for a three month job, but please don't ask me any more about it. All I can say is I will have food and shelter and hopefully some savings when I get back. Hopefully ready to restart my life."

He just looks at me and shakes his head. He knows how proud I am, I was. I'm not sure I'm there any more.

I turn away from him and wipe the tears out of my eyes. What I'm about to do has suddenly hit home with me. I feel empty.

"Would you like a hug? If I remember you at all, and I certainly have tried not to, I think you need one."

I turn back to him and wrap my arms around him. Bryce can be an asshole, but he has a good heart. I sob for a few minutes on his shoulder then back up, wipe the tears from my cheek with my arm and say, "We should take this to the storage unit."

Bryce doesn't say another word about any of this.

He brings me back to my apartment after everything is in the unit, which took much longer than either of us expected. I'm sore and exhausted. I turn to him, trying to smile as I say, "Ready for your payment?"

"I don't know what you've gone through and what you're about to do. And I probably don't want to. But I don't feel right about taking that. I'm going to insist you contact me when you get back from wherever. It doesn't have to be for drinks, but I need to see that you're okay. If you feel like paying off then, we can see. We had some good times together and you once meant a lot to me. You've brought some of that back to me. That's payment enough for now."






I check into a cheap hotel not far from the office. my luggage for the three month trip with me. My alarm goes off at 5:30 Saturday morning. I walk the two blocks to the office, lugging my two big suitcases. I see a bus waiting and Jack with a clipboard, checking people in. I hurry over to him.

"I was starting to worry you had stiffed me," he says.

"You're not the one I'm supposed to be getting stiff," I say, trying to work into character.

He laughs. "Your luggage goes in there," he says, pointing to the luggage area. I struggle to lift the smaller one up.

"I can get that for you ma'am," a deep voice says from behind me. Surprised, I turn to see a large man with a kindly face, maybe a few years older than me. He lifts both suitcases with ease, sliding them in the storage area. It looks like I was the only one with suitcases. There are lots of duffel bags.

"There's no need for you to have to do that. There's plenty of muscle here, willing to help you."

"Thank you, so much. My name's Mel. I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other over the next three months."

"People call me Gator. I'm sure looking forward to seeing much more of you."

I blush as I realize he is already mentally undressing me. Then I manage to compose myself, saying, "I hope you like what you see."

I'm realizing that maybe I can minimize the number of really nasty things I need to do if I can keep them happy with flirting and teasing. I know I'm going to have to have more sex than I ever have before, but I'm hoping to keep it on my terms, so I don't feel so much like a whore.

Ouch. That word hurts even when I say it in my own head.

Jack says, "Hurry up. You're the last two."

I climb up the steps into the bus. There are a range of men on the bus. Not all as big as Gator, but they all look very strong. Except for one older wiry man sitting right behind the driver. I'm not sure I'm ready to mingle with my future lovers yet. I sit down in an empty row across from the wiry man.

"Hi, I'm Mel. You don't look like a lumberjack," I say to him.

"I'm Stu, the other driver. And you're the company whore."

"I prefer Morale Specialist."

"Whatever, lady. You're still getting paid to fuck these clowns. You're a whore in my book."

So much for having a conversation with him.

The driver closes the door then speaks loudly to the twenty two of us sitting in the bus. "I'm Dave. No eating on my bus. Keep the bathroom clean. We'll stop for food in about eight hours."

I watch the road go by for a while and then drift off to sleep. I'm not used to getting up at 5:30. The day becomes a blur of highway and restless sleep. I'm snapped awake by the bus coming to a halt. Dave announces, "Rest stop. The food in the diner's edible, but I'd avoid the chili. Bus leaves in exactly one hour. Don't miss it. It's a long walk home."

I let everyone else get off the bus first as I shake the cobwebs out of my head. Getting out of the bus, it feels really good to stretch my legs. I didn't think to save any money for food on the bus trip because I was thinking they were feeding me. I guess I'll be hungry today.

I check my purse and I have seven dollars left. Hopefully enough to get a cup of coffee and maybe some toast each stop. I sit by myself at the counter. The prices are reasonable. I can only get toast once, but I can afford coffee both stops.

Gator and a man shockingly even bulkier than Gator come over to me. "Mel, meet Mongo."

"Mongo? Really?"

"It's what they call me. My real name's Fred. But with my size, I get it."

"Well it's nice to meet you Mongo."

"Toast is not enough to keep you going, Mel. You need to eat more."

I look around before sheepishly saying, "I didn't think to bring any money for food on the bus ride. I'll be okay."

"Mongo and I'll pay for it, Mel. Whadya like?"

"Are you sure?"

Gator laughs, really a deep roar. "Course I'm sure. Wouldn't say it if I weren't"

"I'd love a BLT and a chocolate milkshake."

Gator calls over to the waiter, "Get the lady a BLT and a chocolate shake. And make it snappy. She needs time to eat it."

They sit with me while I eat. Gator really is nice. And Mongo is very funny. It's the best time I've had in a while. And it feels much better to have some food in me.






When Gator, Mongo, and I climb back on the bus, Dave is sleeping in Stu's seat and Stu is in the driver seat. I briefly thought about going back and sitting with Mongo or Gator, but I settle down in my same seat.

Around 1AM we stop for an hour again. Mongo buys me breakfast. Back on the bus, Stu is back to his old seat and seems to already be asleep. Dave turns to me and softly says, "Sorry about Stu. He's just an asshole. And he can't figure out why women won't sleep with him." He laughs.

I laugh with him.






The rising sun wakes me up while we're still driving. I look around and see nothing other than thick forest on each side of the road. I realize we're now on a one lane dirt road. Finally, I see a clearing well in front of us with some buildings in it. There are two larger buildings and three smaller ones. As we get close, I see a group of people standing outside. Twenty one men and a single woman. There is a pile of luggage next to them.

The bus pulls up just past them. Dave opens the door and turns to me to say, "Welcome to the end of the world."

As I step off the bus, a greasy looking man says, "Melanie, I assume?"

"Call me, Mel. Who are you?"

"You can call me Mr. Benjamin. I run this camp. Grab your stuff. Your cabin is over there. I have to warn you, I didn't agree with the decision to bring a whore into my camp. So don't make any trouble for me or I'll make trouble for you."

I stand there a little stunned. I had gotten used to Gator and Mongo's warmth.

"Get out of the damned way and let everyone else off the bus, would you. If it's not too much trouble for your highness."

I step to the side, still a bit in shock.

The woman comes over to me and says, "It's okay honey. You don't work for him. You work for the lumberjacks. And they're a good bunch. Just ignore him and try to stay out of his way."

She looks at me. "You're not used to turning tricks, are you?"

I shake my head no.

"Why did they bring you here? You must be pretty desperate. I'm sorry." She sighs. "Just keep up a good attitude and the guys will be gentle with you. If anyone gets out of line, the others will take care of it."

"Thank you."

"Good luck. I'm Sam, by the way. I might see you again in three months."

I hear Mr. Benjamin saying, "Frederick? Samuel?" I look up and see Mongo and Gator nod to him.

So Gator's real name is Samuel. I stash that info away. I see them each pick up one of my suitcases as well as a duffel. "We'll take this over to your cabin for you."

I could get used to having big strong men wanting to do things for me.

My cabin is snug, about the size of my bedroom in my old apartment, with an attached bathroom. I do appreciate that.

Mongo and Gator set down my suitcases. On the way out, Mongo said, "See you in the mess hall in a few minutes. This one's on you."






I was struck by two things immediately upon entering the mess hall. It feels bigger on the inside. It probably seats only forty or fifty people. But it feels big.

And two of the tables are pushed together. On top of the tables is a bed. My workplace. The reality of what I signed up to do hits me. Can I really do this? My legs go weak.

I feel a hand on my back. Then Gator's booming voice says, "Why don't you come have a seat with us."

He gently supports me while I walk towards the table where Mongo and some others are seated. He quietly says, "You don't have much experience doing this kind of thing, do you?"

I nod my head, trying to keep the tears in check.

"We'll make sure it goes real easy on you the first couple times. And don't do anything you really don't want to. Remember, you are in control up there."

I reached up and kissed Gator on the cheek.

"Oooh, she's already got a favorite!" Mongo calls out from the table.

As I sit down, Gator points around the table, one at a time introducing everyone sitting with us. "This is Chief. He's from Arkansas."

I look at him, clearly with indigenous heritage. He corrects Gator, "Call me Bill, please."

"Chief, er, Bill, is married and maintains his vows, so you won't be getting to know him real personal like. He's in love with his wife or something."

"I think that's admirable," I say to him.

He nods to me with a bit of a grin.

"This is Tex, but I guess he's from New Mexico."

Tex shrugs and waves to me.

"He's got a wife, too, but he says they have an understanding."

"I know she's not going to keep her legs closed for three months, so rather than lie to each other about it, we have hall passes while I'm away."

"And this is Pedro. Is that yer real name?"

"No, it's Julio, but these old foremen didn't care. They pick a name and you better answer to it."

"So you all already know each other?"

"Mostly yeah," Gator says. "There's seventeen of us back from three months ago."

He looks around. "The three over there, eating by themselves. They're the new ones. I probably shoulda invited em over, but the guys all wanted to meet you. And ya kinda looked like ya needed a hand there."

I nod to him.

"How does this work? Do we order somewhere?"

The whole table starts laughing. Gator says, "Nope. We eat as a team. Cook brings out big platters of food for each table and we pass it around. If you don't like what he serves, you go hungry. Yer not a picky eater, are ya?"

"I think I eat pretty much everything."

"Except the bugs," Mongo says, "You probably want to skip the bugs."

I go pale and suddenly feel nauseous.

The table starts laughing again. "Don't you know enough not to believe nothin' Mongo tells ya? Cook's actually real good."

I laugh, but I'm not sure how quickly my appetite is going to return.

Soon, we have a platter of sausage, and one of toast, and a big bowl of scrambled eggs.

I only eat a little. Between my initial fright and Mongo's bugs, I don't have much of an appetite.

Gator says, "Ya gotta eat up to stay healthy."

"Healthy, yeah, but you don't want me to be a porker up there in twelve weeks, do you?"

The whole table erupts into laughter again. It really is a comfortable group, although I'm sure everyone in the room has mentally undressed me. I get squeamish thinking about them all staring at me. And I can feel my pussy getting wet, too.

"What do we do with ourselves the rest of today?"

"It's mostly a settle in day, getting unpacked, choosing bunks, that sort of thing," Gator says.

"Drawing straws for whose bunk you sleep in tonight," Mondo adds.

Gator glares at him, but I laugh. I know that's not the way this will work.

"Sunday is always an off day, when we do our laundry and shit. We even get to sleep in a bit."

"What time is sleeping in?"

"Breakfast is eight o'clock sharp every Sunday."

"That's not sleeping in for my world."

"For the next three months it better be. Breakfast is at 5:30 the other six days a week and then we work a twelve hour day. Miss breakfast and yer gonna be mighty hungry."

"Or you can try to blow Cook to get a late meal. But I think he's gay," Mongo says.

I ignore the attempted joke and ask, "You guys work six twelve hour days a week?"

"That's why they pay us the big bucks," Mongo says.

"It's how we can afford to work three months on, three months off," Gator adds.

No wonder you need a Morale Specialist, I think to myself.






I spend a couple of hours getting as unpacked as I can. I brought more clothes than fit in my closet. Not sure why I brought my high heels. And my toiletries overwhelm the tiny sink area. I'm going to have to be clever in getting places for everything.

I lie on the bed and read for a while. I brought a kindle with stacks of books on it. I'm not sure how much time I can spend reading in a week, but I have little else to do most of the time.

The bed is surprisingly comfortable. I don't get far in my book before my eyes drift shut. It's nice to sleep somewhere that isn't bouncing with every bump in the road.

I awaken to a banging on the door. It takes me a minute of panic to realize where I am and why I'm here. Then I hear Gator's voice, "Ya in there, Mel?"

"Coming, Gator. I fell asleep."

I slide my shoe back on and open the door. He grins and says, "You don't know what cummin's like until you've had me."

I faux slap him on the arm. But it brings home why I'm here.

"It's chow time again and I didn't want you missing yer dinner."

"Thanks for thinking of me, Gator." I give him a kiss on the cheek again. I still blanche when I see the bed up on the tables.

"Let's go sit with the new guys tonight."

We sit at the table with the three new guys. "My name's Gator, and that's Mongo and this lady here is Mel."

"Are you the camp whore? I heard about you when they recruited us," one of the new men said.

I can see Gator getting ready to defend me, but I put a hand on his arm to calm him down. "I don't think of myself as a whore. My job is to keep the bunch of you hooligans happy and off the street while you're here. It might be that I'll get some of you off a few times a week, but that's on my terms, my say so. So be nice to me or you ain't gonna get shit."

"Bein' polite would be interducing yerselves to the lady. And to us."

"I'm Pete. He's Eric. And the rude one is Joe."

"Guess I'm not learning those. You'll have new names tomorrer fer sure."

"Does he give us new names outta spite or what?" Eric asks.

"I think he thinks he's funny," Mongo says. "But even more, just so he feels like he controls us."

"Just try 'n ignore 'im. He musta screwed the pooch a good un. He used to work in corporate headquarters. His daddy owns the company and he still got stuck out here."

"He gets to fly home to his missus every weekend except shift change. Best part of Sundays. Even better'n not working."

As we are leaving the mess hall, I ask, "Can I talk to you outside for a minute, Gator? I mean privately." I see Mongo looking in at me.

"Me know when Mongo not wanted," he says in a faux snit, doing his best Alex Karras impersonation.

Once we are outside, I ask, "What actually happens in the evening activities? I need to brace myself for what I'm going to do so I don't freak out Tuesday night."

"You're only the second one of these I've seen, all I can tell is what the other un did. And she changed over time and sometimes right in the middle of the show."

"So what did she do in a typical evening or in one that seemed easy or something. I need to know precisely, almost minute by minute."

"Well, she would start up on the tables, maybe on the bed and start talking with us, usually joking around. Then she would strip while she talked. But she would tease us a lot, like telling us she didn't think she would take her blouse off tonight or something. We knew she always would, but it built it all up for us. Then she would call people up. Sometimes she would draw the names in advance and then figure out who she would use when. Sometimes she'd announce what was about to happen and then draw a name right then. That was real excitin'."

Gator looked at me for confirmation. I nodded to get him to keep going.

"Um, she would get us off in different ways. Some guys would just be a hand job or a blow job. Some got to actually fuck her. Usually like two a night. Sometimes she would end the evening with letting someone fuck her while she sucked off someone else. That was really hot to watch. Oh and she sometimes would let guys touch her, but not usually. And usually only the last guy, because once she did in an evening, the next guy wanted it too. It's kinda hard to do anything but get wilder for each guy."

"Thanks, Gator. That was a big help." I give him another peck on the cheek. "I hope I draw you Tuesday."






I fall asleep that night trying to visualize myself doing that act. I don't sleep very well. It's still dark out when I hear voices outside. I grasp my situation quickly, throw clothes on and run over to get breakfast.

People have already started eating. I scan for empty seats. Most of the tables are full. Chief, or rather Bill, is at one of them, so I go there. Besides, Joe was the only one I knew at the other table with an open seat.

"Good morning, Bill, I hope you guys left me enough to eat."

"Morning, Mel," he says.

"You going to introduce me to your friends? I'd like to know everyone before I meet them up there tomorrow night."

"Um, this is Zorba."

I look at him and he says, "I'm Lebanese not Greek."

"And this is Frito."

"As in Bandito I think," he clarifies. "Please call me Carlos. At least he was right that I'm Mexican."

"And finally, this is John Henry."

"Call me Jim, please."

Jesus, I think, could he come up with any more racist tropes for naming people?

Like he could read my mind, Jim said, "It's okay. We all know Benjamin's a dick. He really does hate everyone."

A few minutes later the aforementioned Mr. Benjamin starts announcing the teams. As the men are called, they head over to a vehicle that will carry them out to their work site.

Pete gets called Pistol. Eric gets called Caveman. He does kind of look like the caveman in those ads. And Joe, the one who called me a whore, gets called Pisser. I laugh to myself. I have no idea where Pisser comes from, but it doesn't sound like a good name. I guess he annoyed Benjamin as well as me. It may be a long three months for him.

Pretty soon it's just me in the room. With Cook scurrying in and out, clearing tables. When he gets to mine, I say, "Thanks, food was good. Do I get any lunch?"

"I leave bread and peanut butter and jelly over there. Make your own when you want it. There's a toaster if you like it toasted."

"Any butter?"

"You want it?"

I nod.

"I'll leave some out for you."

I head back to my cabin. It's going to be a long day.






I take a shower that I missed before breakfast. I try to read, but I cannot get tomorrow evening out of my head. I'm not sure I can even take my clothes off in front of everyone. And then I need to fuck some guy I barely know. More than one guy, really. And in front of everyone else. I go in the bathroom and puke.

You got yourself into this situation, Mel. You have no choice now. I take a walk around the camp, just to burn off some nervous energy. I go into the mess hall and make myself some buttered toast. I like toast. It calms me down. And I needed something in my stomach again.

Sitting and eating the toast, I manage to convince myself that I can do this. I look at the bed up on the table. I imagine myself lying on there, getting fucked by Gator. I could live with that. As long as it's not Pisser. I don't like him. I guess I'll draw all the names up front and I'll give him a handjob if he gets lucky. I'm pretty sure I can give anyone a handjob.

Feeling better, I make myself a PB+J on toast to get a little more food in me.

I manage to read most of the afternoon and then take another walk around the camp before dinner. Around six, I hear the trucks coming back with the men. I walk over to the mess hall and wait for dinner. I'm surprised by how long they are, but they start showing up, hair wet. They all took showers before dinner! Well, at least they'll be clean for my show tomorrow.

It's beef stew, which was actually quite good, and cornbread for dinner. Lots of potatoes in the stew. I get the guys needing their carbs after working all day, but this diet is going to be brutal on my figure.

I end up sitting with Gator and Mongo and three guys I haven't met yet. Doc wears glasses and asks to be called Andy. Steve is the shortest one of the lot by far (about my height) and gets called Stubby. Jason, whose nickname is Aquaman, tells me he won't be participating in the evening entertainment. "Jenny's staying with her Mama, but she's about to burst and I can't cheat on her like that."

I look at him, not understanding. He says, "I'm going to be a daddy!" He looks so proud.

"Congratulations, Jason! When's she due?" I ask.

"In about a month."

"Will you hear anything before we go back?" I ask, concern in my voice.

Mongo speaks up, "Dickhead takes mail we want to send with him when he goes back for the weekends. And then he brings mail back with him. We get that Sunday evenings. It's real special for some of the guys."

"I asked about getting urgent messages through," Jason says, "And they told me that my wife or her Mama can send a message to Benjamin and he'll tell me. He has a phone line, you know."






It's a restless night for me. I get some sleep, but even that isn't restful. All my dreams are nightmares about sex and being naked. I'm back to doubting I can do this.

I get to breakfast on time today, but I guess I don't look so good. Gator quietly asks me if I'm going to be okay. I nod and say sure, but I'm far from sure about that myself. If I could have run away from this camp, I would. But there is no where I could get to, no civilization anywhere close.

I meet two new men at breakfast. Pierre, whose nickname is Frog, complains "I'm not French, I don't even speak French. I'm Canadian. I could've lived with Canuck. But don't call me Frog."

Little John, whose name actually is John, doesn't say much. He is huge though. Almost as wide as Mongo and probably four inches taller. John is a big man. Even in a room full of very large men.

I manage to keep today's breakfast down, but I'm hardly ever relaxed during the day. I finally spend the afternoon worrying about what I will wear for tonight.

I barely pick at my food at dinner, too nervous to talk with anyone. Even Gator, who I had sat next to for support. Near the end of dinner, he leans over and says, "If you need time to get ready, this is a good moment. Do you want to draw all the names first?"

"Yeah, I'll draw all of them first. But right now, I'm going to go outside, get some fresh air, and get ready to make all you guys happy."

Outside I take a deep breath of fresh air. And inspiration strikes me.

I stride back into the mess hall and stand on a chair and then onto one of the tables pushed together.

"I've been told it's that time. Please be patient with me. I've never done anything like this before. But I understand it's my job to make you all happy."

Every eye in the room is now on me. No one says anything. This is going to be hard.

"Gator, you said you have the names for me to draw?"

He nods and holds up a hard hat. I draw out the names one at a time, looking at them, but not announcing them. I stuff the six slips into my pocket. I close my eyes for a moment and gather myself. Can I really do this? I think about what I will do with each guy. I can make this work.

I unbutton my blouse, but don't pull it off. I have the men's rapt attention.

I start to pull it back then stop and let the blouse fall mostly shut again. "Do you think I should take this blouse off?"

Some calls of yes.

"That sounds pretty weak to me. I don't think you actually care."

Much more yells, many saying take it off. Pisser yelled "Take if off, bitch."

"Pisser, you have to be nicer to your women, even me. Especially, me."

Several guys turn to him and glare.

"Okay, I will tell you what. If Pisser will turn around while I take it off, I'll take it off for the rest of you."

Pisser looks around and realizes he has lost this one. He turns around and I reward the crowd. I still have a lace bra on, but I know that they can see my nipples through it.

I reach behind, pretending to fumble with the clasp on my bra.

"I'm feeling a little lonely up here. Why am I the only one showing off my chest. I want to see all those manly chests out there, all those lumberjack muscles."

The guys are looking at each other. Some are starting to unbutton their shirts.

"I'll tell you what, whichever side gets most of their shirt off first gets to see my tits first."

There is now a scurry as they are all trying to take off their shirts in a hurry.

"Now that's what I call a roomful of pecs. You guys really are amazing. So I guess I do have to show you my tits. And you guys over there were first, so you get the first look."

A bunch of whooping from that table.

I turn completely around and unclasp my bra, letting it slide down my arms and onto the bed behind me. I bring my arms over my breasts then start to turn back around. When I'm facing the winning table, I quickly flash my boobs at them before immediately covering back up.

The cheering at that table is loud. The attention is actually getting me very turned on. This is actually kind of fun.

Still covered, I turn to the center of them. "Do you guys want to see these two beauties as well."

Yelling from the whole room.

"Ok, since you insist."

I hold my arms straight out to my side, exposing my breasts to the room. Cheering all around. Except for poor Pisser.

"Okay, if you promise to be nicer, you can turn around too, Pisser."

He turns around, still sulking.

I unbutton my slacks and then stop.

"Should I take off my pants now?"

Lots of cheering.

"But you don't know the choices yet. Should I take them off while I face you?"

I run my hands up the inside of my thighs. I chose these slacks because they show my legs and ass better than anything else I own. When my hands reach my crotch, they pause and rub my mound. I play up moaning, but it really does feel good and I am more than ready to cum.

"Or should I take them off showing off my ass?"

I turn around and rub my ass with my hands. I bend over to make my ass stick out and pull the pants as tight as I can. I slide my right hand through my leg and start to rub my crotch again. It would not be hard to get myself off like this right now. I bring my face around to show my eagerness to the crowd.

I turn around and the guys are all shifting themselves.

"Or I could start with my first audience participation winner."

Some cheering but many of the guys are breathing hard right now.

"It's a hard decision isn't it guys. Okay I'm going to take a poll of you all to see how I should do this. That means all your poles out guys. I want to know what I get to look forward to tonight."

They all look at each other and some start unzipping.

"Yeah that's right. Lemme see what you're going to give me. Nothing better to help make a hard decision than some hard meat. That's right John, that's certainly not why you got called Little."

He blushes, but smiles.

"Gator, that doesn't bite does it? It looks pretty deadly."

"And Jim, John Henry had nothing for pile driving on you."

"Pisser, you're supposed to get yours out, too. Oh, I'm sorry, it is out. I guess I didn't see it."

The room bursts out laughing. All except him, who looks pretty pissed.

"So if you think I should take my first audience member now let me know by how high your pole reaches."

I pretend to count everyone, skipping Pisser.

"Okay, it's time for my first audience participation moment."

I reach in my pocket and pull out the slips. "This slip says Pedro, so come on up Julio."

His pants are only half on as he hurries to the makeshift stage. He trips as he tries to clamber up.

"Why don't you take those silly pants off and leave them right there. No need for them up here with me."

I get him to stand facing me, side to the audience. I lean over and kiss his nipple while I reach down and grasp his already rock hard cock. He is moaning immediately. This will not take long.

When I feel him about to explode I kneel down in front of him and close my eyes, directing his cum onto both sides of my face.

I stand up facing the audience, the cum dripping down and off my face. "I guess you were ready for this, Julio." I grab my blouse and wipe my face. "Let's hear it for Julio, everyone."

The room cheers and he gets the idea and steps down off the table. "You better put those pants back on. Not sure Cook wants your naked ass on his chairs."

Everyone laughs and he pulls his pants back on.

"Speaking of pants, that makes me think I was supposed to do something else now, but I can't remember what."

"Take em off, you tease!" Mongo shouts.

"Oh, you want to see what's under my pants. It's just my legs. And I guess I do have a couple of holes in between. Is that what you want to see?"

Wild cheering.

I unbutton my slacks and peel the sides back just enough to give them a peek of my lacy underwear. Then I stop and look at them, then turn my back and peel the slacks down, bending over as I pull each leg of the slacks off each leg, giving them a good view of me through the lace of my panties.

I turn back around and stand with my hands over my head. I have forty eyes ogling me with lust. I wonder if I'm wet enough to be creating a visible spot on my panties.

"Oh, did you want me to pull these off too?"

Cheering again.

I slide one side of my panties down my hip and then stop.

"I think I'm going to do another audience participation first."

I turn back to the audience again and bend over pulling out the slips out of my pocket again. I hold one up, saying "Zorba, it's your turn. And no, I'm not going Greek for you."

The guys all laugh.

He takes his pants off before climbing up, avoiding the embarrassment that Julio had. I position him facing the audience, his ass resting against the bed. I crouch in front of him, sticking my ass towards the crowd. I take his rock hard cock in my mouth. My hope is he won't last long. I have only given single digit blowjobs in my life, but I'm not going to get away with handjobs for everyone. I better get used to this.

It doesn't take him long, but he shoots more than I've ever had in my mouth. I choke a fair amount on it, but manage to get it all down.

I stand up, wipe off what drooled down my chin with my hand, then say, "You carried a big wad for me there Zorba. Did you save that up for three months? You know you can have sex with women not here."

The men all laugh and Zorba looks a bit sheepish. Satisfied, but sheepish.

"Now, I think someone had suggested I take off my panties. Is that what you all want?"

Cheering wildly.

"I'm not sure about this. I better take another poll. It looks like I have two abstentions. Maybe only one, Pedro seems to be getting his vote up just in time. Impressive recovery effort there, Julio! Even Pisser has his visible now."

I slide my panties off, turning around and bending over as I place them carefully at the head of the bed. Coincidently bending over to show them everything as I do.

The men are cheering and whistling wildly.

I turn back around and say, "Is all that for me? Just for taking that little piece of lace. And I chose that because I thought you would like my lacy intimates."

I feel sexier than I have ever felt in my life.

"I think all this excitement is making my muscles tense. I better stretch them."

I go to the front of the stage and pull one leg all the way up, stretching my hamstring and showing a clear view of my exposed pussy. I then stretch the other leg.

"All that stretching has me tired."

I walk backwards and sit on the bed then lay backwards, pulling my feet apart and up next to my hips. I briefly rub my pussy with my right hand, then say, "I think I need some help with something. I guess it's time for more audience participation. Only this time I want two of you."

I go back to the front of the stage, turn back to the audience and bend over to pull two more slips out of my pocket.

"The first one says Pistol. Come on up Pete. But hold on. The second one says Lizard. There was no mention of bestiality in my contract." I stop and look at Mongo. "Exceptions of course can be made for you, Mongo."

Everyone laughs. I see a tall slender man I had seen but never met before standing up. "You don't look like a lizard to me. Maybe one day I will find out if you're named for your tongue. But not today."

He says, "Just call me George."

"Okay George and Pete, I have a challenge for you. You're each going to have a turn and who ever wins gets a special prize. The winner is whoever can make me cum harder before I get your competitor off. You only get to use your hand in my pussy while I'm sucking the other one off. Then we swap around. George, you get to try to get me off while I'm trying to get Pete off. Then I get you off while Pete tries to get me off. Both of you understand how this works?"

They nod. We turn side to side with me facing Pete. As I bend over, my ass sticks out right in front of George. He sticks his hand in my pussy. "No jumping the gun, there George. You can start right when I take this big meat in front of me and stick it in my mouth. I run my tongue up the underside of Pete's shaft and he moans.

Then I wrap my lips around Pete's cock and bring a hand to help encourage his eruption. But George has his fingers on my button immediately. I am too ready to last long. My orgasm overtakes me just as Pete's ejaculation floods my mouth. That distracted me enough to limit my orgasm, which I'm grateful for.

"I have to admit George did pretty well there. But did he make me cum first? What do you guys think?"

The guys all cheer.

"Sounds like you are definitely in the running for the prize, George. But now we see what Pete can do and how quickly I can get you off."

The half completed orgasm has left me aching for more and Pete definitely gets me off before I can take care of George. I think George may have gotten a bit short changed with the physical stimulation, but he seemed satisfied.

"Well I think you both won. Which makes me a double winner I guess. I will let you each get the prize of a minute of kissing a breast."

The two of them kiss, bite, and suckle on my nipples. After a minute of that, I'm starting to be ready for more.

"Thank you gentlemen. I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did."

They scurry off the stage, seeming quite pleased.

"It's time to draw a name for the next act. Do you think it might be you?"

The twelve contestants who haven't been called yet are all yelling.

I do my standard draw a slip act and turn around to announce, "John Henry!. Come on up Jim and I get to see if you know how to use that tool of yours."

I climb up on the bed on all fours, sideways to the audience. "I think you know what I'm looking for, Jim."

He climbs up behind me. Before he even does anything, I say, "Hey, be careful of which hole you're going into Jim. Some things are off the menu."

The audience laughs.

He drives into me. Even as ready as I am, he comes way faster than I need to get off without clitoral stimulation and I didn't help myself along.

I let Jim pull out before I walk to the edge of the stage to pull out the last slip. I don't need to look. I had moved Gator's slip to the end earlier. I can feel Jim's wad of cum plop out of my pussy as the audience watches.

I turn and read the last slip, "Gator. Come on up and fuck me properly Samuel. Make it one I won't forget."

Gator, with a big grin on his face, stands up and walks to the stage. I plant a big kiss on his lips when he gets up and then whisper to him, "Be gentle with me. Anything but anal is on the table for you."

"Do you have favorite positions?"

I take notice of the plural. Can he really hold on that long tonight?

"How about missionary and then ending with me in cowgirl?"

"Works for me."

I lie on my back and he lies on top of me kissing me before pushing himself in. He's not as long as Jim was, but he is easily the thickest cock I have ever had. I'm filled like I never have and he has a nice slow, regular rhythm. I'm not going to last long, even with just the fucking.

He must have seen I was getting close, because he rolls over picking me up in his strong arms. We lose connection in the maneuver but it only takes me a moment to slide him back into me. I am starting to rock hard on him. I'm still not going to last long.

"Grab my tits," I plead. He immediately obeys and caresses my breasts with just enough of a rough edge to be exciting. I'm trying to wait for him, but at last I can't and I am wailing in orgasm. A moment later, he is releasing his load into me, grunting loudly.

It takes me several minutes to recover. Still holding Gator inside me, I turn my head to the audience, "That is the end of tonight's show. I hope you enjoyed it."

I reach down and kiss Gator. "Thank you. You were wonderful."

He grins.

I have never come three times in an evening in my life. I'm exhausted.

I can't wait for Thursday. I wonder what Mongo is like in bed.