Cucking the Captive Campers Ch. 01

All the while, her eyes followed this grizzly bear of a man. Her expression could be described as icy, although McDowell figured her for one of those girls who wore her resting bitch face more than a smile-- even if she wasn't anyone's captive.

He came across some cash for tolls, and he added it to his bag, as well as any small valuables that he could find.

"What are you going to do with us?" She asked finally.

"That's for me to know," he replied absently, checking every compartment, every drawer, every place that a weapon could possibly be found. When he was satisfied that he'd thoroughly searched the place, he dropped the handcuffs on the kitchen table.

"Put 'em on," he ordered.

She regarded them, then peered up at him. Annoyance again winning out over fear. "Why?"

McDowell was in no mood. He grabbed her by her hair and hauled her roughly to her feet. She gasped, but otherwise didn't yelp or scream. He waved the gun at her. "Because as long as I have this, I own this trailer, and everything in it. And my rule is law around here. When I tell you to do something, you better fuckin' do it. Your husband and your son will be back soon, and I need *you* to control *them* so that nobody gets any stupid ideas. If you're in here, they're more likely to do as I say, instead of try to run and get themselves hurt. Now cuff yourself, or I'll do it, and believe me, you don't want that."

Leanne peered at him. The color had drained from her face. This time, there was the slightest bit of a tremble to her as she took the cuffs clicked one around her wrist, and the other around the oven handle. But after a minute, she regained her composure, and her expression turned more curious than anything.

"What'd you do?" She asked, gesturing with her eyes to his jumpsuit.

This time McDowell couldn't help but blow out a little laugh at the curious way she regarded him. Again, no fear. Just frankness and the slightest hint of curiosity.

"I've done a lot of things, darlin'. But the most serious was murder. So stay on my good side and we'll get along just fine." He smiled.

***

When they returned from fishing, they had no idea something was amiss, until he was stepping out of the trailer to greet them.

Both father and son stopped in their tracks at the man in the prison jumpsuit who had the pistol leveled at them. "Get in the RV, boys. It's time we had a good-old-fashioned family camping trip." Leo McDowell grinned at them.

Before either could react, the large burly fugitive had them by the collars of their shirts and was shoving them bodily into the trailer. The truth was that both of them were so caught off guard, that neither did anything. Brian was not a confrontational person by nature-- too low key and subdued for that. And although Bradley would have been a more formidable opponent than his shorter father, he was also only 18 and had never been in a real fight in his life.

Leanne watched as her son and husband were dragged inside. Brian's shoulders were hunched as though he was anticipating a punch and doing his best to shy away from it. Not that she expected any less. McDowell had a full foot on her husband. While both men were on the thicker side, Brian's body was soft and doughy, while McDowell was hard-packed animalistic muscle.

"Mom? What's going on?" Bradley was worried. She was still cuffed to the oven, but was otherwise composed and wearing the expression of someone who was inconvenienced, but nothing more.

"You'll find out soon enough, son. Once we get past the introductions," McDowell said. "In the mean time, sit down." He wasn't loud, but his voice boomed with an air of authority. He had little patience and wanted to convey that.

Both men dropped into the bench seats at the tiny kitchen table. Their confusion and fear plastered all over their expressions. McDowell appraised all three of them, and decided they wouldn't be much of a threat.

"So here's how this is going to go," he said, folding his big arms across his broad chest. "As I'm sure you all can figure out, I'm the type of guy who's got a lot of people looking for him. And I have no interest in being found. So, I'm going to hide out for a bit. And you lovely folks are going to help me."

"Man, if you let us go, you can just take the camper," Brian insisted, piecing it all together. An escaped inmate. "We don't get any reception out here anyway, so it's not like we can call anyone if you just take the camper and leave us here--"

"Shut up!" McDowell barked. Brian jumped, then shrank away. Leanne frowned. How the fuck was she more calm than her husband?

"As tempting as that sounds, I've been running for a while. I'm tired, and I need a good meal, and I need to relax a bit," he let his eyes linger on Leanne as he said it. "Second of all, the cops will be all over the roads by now, looking for a guy traveling alone. I'll blend in better if I have a 'family' to hide me. And third of all--"

"The cops won't shoot at you if you've got hostages," Bradley chimed in. His father shot him a scolding look for suggesting it.

"Smart kid," McDowell said. "Exactly right. You're bullet shields, and they'll be more worried about you guys getting hurt, than they'll be at arresting me."

They all grew silent as they let that sink in.

"So here's the deal," McDowell finally continued when he was sure they understood. "I'm not difficult to live with. Hell, if I know I can trust you guys, I may even afford you some luxuries from time to time. Maybe let you enjoy your trip a bit. And after enough time has passed that I'm sure I can get away, I'll let the three of you go, unharmed and no worse for wear.

"But there's rules that I'm going to make very clear right now. There are three of you. Which makes it pretty hard for me to keep an eye on all of you at once, right? If any one of you makes a run for it, I'll kill whoever is still here." He looked at Bradley as he said it. "You love your mom and dad?"

The young man nodded suddenly worried.

"Then don't get any wild ideas, because if you run, I'll shoot them. Understand?"

Bradley nodded again.

"Don't think I won't. Rule two: no trying to call for help. If you do... well... see rule number one."

"What if someone shows up?" Bradley asked.

"Who's gonna show up?" McDowell glared at the boy, interrogating him.

He just shrugged. "A ranger or someone? If the police are looking for you--"

"Hide me, cover for me, do what you have to do to protect me. Better be creative. Otherwise, people will get hurt. Got it?"

Bradley swallowed.

"Rule three: If you try to hurt me, I'll hurt you worse." He looked each of them in the eyes. "From here on out, this is all about trust. If you're good to me, I'll be good to you." His eyes settled and lingered on Leanne as he said it. She just stared back. Her expression unreadable. What a 'bad bitch' front that she was putting on.

"Everyone looking forward to playing nice?" He asked, tucking his gun into his waistband. The group just stared at him. He started to nod his head, coaxing them to follow suit. "'Yes Leo... we are. Right?'" He snarled.

Everyone nodded.

"Good," he clapped his hands together-- they looked big enough to crush skulls between them. "Now that we understand each other, first order of business... I need to get out of these clothes." He grinned.

***

After rummaging, McDowell decided that he had to wear the son's clothing. Not that he and Bradley were a close match in height and build, but they were closer than Brian's short frame-- even with his propensity to dress baggy.

"Kid, I'm taking some of these," McDowell said, holding up a pair of shorts and a shirt. "Your manlet of a dad has nothing even close that'll fit."

Bradley shrugged from the table, drawing strength from his mother's stoicism. "You say that like I have a choice. Just do me a favor, and wear some underwear. I don't need your junk getting my pants all funky."

McDowell cocked an amused smirk at the kid. "Don't worry... I'm going to take a shower. And your mother is going to help me," he threw the last part in with a sly grin.

All three captives nearly jumped.

"What?" Bradley asked.

"The hell she is," Brian said, finding his voice.

Only Leanne was prudently silent, regarding their hulking captor with a poker face.

McDowell was still grinning an evil teasing smile. "I need to keep somebody close, so the rest of you don't get any funny ideas. Unless either of you homos would like to see my naked ass. But I wouldn't want to make you insecure... or fall in love with me," he winked.

"It's fine," Leanne said, sounding bored.

"Exactly," McDowell smirked, eyeing up the feisty wife. "I'm sure it's nothing that a hot little hunny like yourself hasn't seen before, right?" He uncuffed Leanne and helped her from the kitchen seat.

"Just don't get any ideas," Brian said. It sounded more like a nervous request than a demand.

"Relax," McDowell grinned. "I like my women willing." Then from his bag he produced more handcuffs. "Just in case *you* get any ideas. Maybe when we get to know each other, I'll give you boys some more free-reign. But until then... you need to earn my trust."

He handcuffed them where they sat, making sure they wouldn't be able to get away. Then he gestured with his pistol, and Leanne led the way toward the back of the trailer, and the cramped little bathroom. There wouldn't be enough space for the two of them inside.

"Just stay where I can see you," he warned her. "I trust that you hooked this place up to the campground's water?"

She nodded. "We did, but the water heater is small. So the hot water doesn't last long."

"I'll be quick," McDowell assured her. "I'll skip the fun stuff," he winked. Then with hardly a second thought, he undid his jumpsuit and shrugged himself out of it. He shed his undershirt and boxers without the slightest hint of self-consciousness.

Leanne's eyes widened as this naked captor stood before her. The first real expression she allowed herself ever since this whole situation had arisen.

McDowell's body was like a grizzly bear-- big and packed with rock solid muscles. His legs were thick and hairy, like tree stumps, and his chest wide enough to envelop her. He was thick-- like a football player, or a biker. His muscles heavy, not especially defined, but definitely making themselves known. Her eyes risked a glance lower, beneath his abs, and she gasped again. Her cool demeanor breaking momentarily when she got a glimpse of the manhood that swung between his thighs. The fugitive's cock was as big around as her wrist, and almost as long. At a glance, she'd have to guess he was hauling at least ten inches in that prison garb.

"See something you like, sweet cheeks?" McDowell grinned, a bit proud.

Leanne glanced up, and managed to compose herself from her momentary shock. She met his eyes, and tried to look confident. But then her eyes wandered back down over his entirety-- head to toe. When they returned from their long travels, back to his eyes, she couldn't help but say "I just wasn't prepared, that's all. I'm sure you were a real nightmare for your cellmate." She couldn't resist the smirk that tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"A real monster," McDowell agreed smoothly, not tearing his eyes from Leanne's face, even as he turned and stepped into the shower stall.

For the next several minutes, Leanne stood awkwardly by, as McDowell washed himself. The water running down his naked body, taking the long... long... *long* journey down the man's swinging dick.

Leanne found herself a bit transfixed by his body. Christ, he was built like a beast. And as McDowell soaped and lathered himself, she felt herself tingling in ways she hadn't felt since she first met Brian, and mistook him for a bar-brawling badass. This was a dangerous man-- the kind of man who did what he wanted, took what he wanted, said what he wanted, and absolutely gave no shits about what happened. There was something to that that Leanne had always found so incredibly sexy.

McDowell showered facing Leanne the entire time. In part, it was to keep an eye on her... after all-- his gun was only a short grab away, resting on the toilet. But she also suspected it was to tease her. ...or at least to get a read on her reaction to this whole display. It seemed to be working. She could feel the blush on her cheeks, the heat between her thighs, and the way her curiosity continued to pull her eyes down his body. Not just his cock, but the rest too. He had a few prison tattoos-- the faded ink and lack of detail were the giveaways. And the puckering discolored skin in multiple places told the stories of stab wounds and gun shots. The man had scars.

McDowell caught her admiring him, and he said nothing. Only grinned slyly, pleased with himself. As his big hands trailed down to his dick, and stroked it. He soaped it up, spending an excess amount of time scrubbing it. He smirked at Leanne, and she squirmed slightly, following his hand with her eyes. Her mouth hanging open slightly.

He rubbed himself a few more times, making no effort to hide his eyes as they wandered over Leanne's body. For several moments, all they did was stare at each other.

"Been a long time since I've seen a hot slut like you... really gets the blood flowing," he commented, and as if to punctuate his statement, his cock seemed to lengthen and swell.

Leanne reddened, glanced toward the kitchen, then back to him. Otherwise, she said nothing.

Then he dropped his cock with a gruff laugh and resumed cleaning himself off. "A girl like you... you really ought to show off more of that hot little body," he said, and that was his final commentary on the matter.

He finished his shower, all the while he and Leanne continued to stare at each other, like words being exchanged without sound.

He dried and dressed himself in Bradley's borrowed clothes. When he stepped from the bathroom Bradley appraised McDowell and couldn't stop himself from laughing. Jean shorts that would have hung down past Bradley's knees, on McDowell looked like 80's cut-offs, stopping in the middle of his meaty thighs. And they were nearly skin tight.

Leanne didn't share in the humor. She was eerily quiet, humbled into silence by the outline of McDowell's package. His cock was tucked tightly into the shorts, looking ready to burst out. His true size was a secret that only Leanne was aware of.

Unfortunately neither Brian nor Bradley had a t-shirt what would have been able to fit over McDowell's frame without him bursting through. So he settled for a light flannel jacket over his bare chest.

"Something funny, junior?" McDowell asked, an amused self-aware smirk crossing his hard features.

"It's nothing, it's nothing," Bradley said, still laughing. "Just that you look like the Hulk or something. Like if you flex, you'll split your seems."

"Then you ought to know not to make me mad," McDowell responded, but hunched forward and flexed, just for his own entertainment. His clothing strained against his hard body.

For the briefest moment, Leanne noticed, and her eyes widened. She couldn't keep the sight of his dick at bay.

"Now lets go. Outside," McDowell uncuffed them all.

"Why?" Brian was suddenly nervous.

"We're camping, right?" McDowell explained. "People build fires while camping. It's what they do. If we don't, it looks even more suspicious. So let's build a fire."

***

They piled outside of the trailer and set to work. McDowell used their axe to split logs while Brian and Leanne gathered dry leaves and sticks. His powerful muscles bulging with each swing, as though he was deliberately putting on a show to entertain... or threaten them. He was demonstrating the sheer power of his might.

Brian was terrified. He'd been on edge ever since McDowell had arrived. Leanne might be calm, and Bradley might be cracking jokes to try to make the best of a bad situation, but Brian was an absolute mess. His heart had never stopped hammering in his chest. He'd never felt so helpless in all of his life.

"We have to do something," he whispered to Leanne, as they both stooped forward to collect the dried twigs from the ground.

"And get ourselves killed? We shouldn't *do* anything," She shot back.

"How do you think this is going to end?" Brian pressed his wife. "We've seen his face. He's not going to let us go. The second he doesn't need us anymore, he's going to kill us."

Leanne couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. "The way I see it, he has our vehicle, and he only needs one hostage. He said it best-- three is hard to manage. So *if* he wanted to kill us, two of us would already be dead. So calm down."

Brian scowled. He was hardly reassured. If anything, he was only further bothered by Leanne's observations. They were in this together, and yet he felt like she was more on the side of McDowell's logic than her own husband's. "Easy for you to say. The guy is an escaped inmate. He'll probably let you live... for other reasons than just being a hostage... You need to be careful around that guy."

Leanne stopped collecting sticks and only glared at Brian. Her expression was hard, defiant like it often got when she was mad. "Brian, I was alone with him for almost an hour before you and Bradley came back from fishing. Again, if he wanted to force himself on me, he would have. He's not like that."

"The guy is holding us hostage at gunpoint. Trust me, he's capable of anything." Brian insisted. "And I don't like the way he keeps looking at you. What if--?"

"What if what?" She almost snarled at him. Her jaw set tightly, her chin jutting, the small line of her mouth curling downward, and her eyes blazing. He'd seen that look on her face a lot lately, usually if she wanted to go out, and he insisted on staying in for the night.

"What if he wants to fuck me?" she asked with a little roll to her head. "I'll alleviate your fears right now, Brian. He does. I guarantee you that he wants to fuck me. He's been checking me out ever since he showed up. What do you think of that? If he wanted to take me into the camper and show me a good time, he would do it. I don't see you lifting a finger to stop him. Clearly that's not what this is about. You're not worried that he'll do that. You're worried that *I'll* fuck *him*. And from the way you're handling this whole situation, I'm starting to wonder who the man around here really is." She rested her hands on her hips, regarding him coldly.

Brian's cheeks flushed. Her words stung him. They stung him to the core. His own wife was siding with some violent criminal, all the while making insinuations that Brian was weak. He was just as much of a victim in this as Leanne and their son were! How was this his fault? Furthermore, how was it that Leanne could find Brian more culpable for their predicament than the man holding the gun?

"What do you want me to do?" Brian's voice turned to a strained whisper. "The guy is literally holding us at gunpoint."

A voice echoed across the camp site. Gruff and deep and commanding. "Hey you two. What's taking so long? Do I need to worry that you're conspiring? C'mon, chop, chop!"

Leanne merely rolled her eyes and sighed. "Be a man, for once." Then she turned and carried her payload of kindling back to the camp.

Brian just watched her go, trembling with bewilderment, and reeling from the harshness of her words. He'd never been more afraid in his life-- for his safety, for his family, for the future. And yet, here was his own wife, nitpicking him as though he hadn't done the dishes in a timely manner.

He took a deep breath and hung his head, returning to camp like a man walking to his own funeral.

Leanne dropped her bundle into the fire pit and dusted her hands on her jeans. The disgust was still apparent on her face. "I'm going inside to change," she addressed this to McDowell. "Do you need to supervise?" She asked, almost daring him.