I was a Sasquatch

The story is fictional, and mostly non erotic, Key word mostly, there is mentioning of sexual acts, adult language, and nudity. Any person mentioned in the story is fictional as well, any resemblances with real persons are purely coincidental, some locations mentioned in the story do exist, the gold mine is fictional, or is it? I have no way of verifying or denying its actual existence. Its location is undisclosed at any rate. All places mentioned do exist or the did when I vacationed there many years ago. The fictional characters in this story do not encounter anyone under the age of eighteen at any time.

A lifetime of hard work suddenly pays off.

Everyone where I worked called me the Sasquatch, or just Sas for short. There are more than a few reasons for my nickname. First off when my mother first saw me when I was born, she said oh what a beautiful hairy little Teddy bear.

Skip forward 40 years I have a 50-inch chest, wear size eighteen triple wide boots, I stand 7 feet 4 inches tall, and can easily change a light bulb recessed in a 10 ft ceiling while standing flat footed. I have huge hands with long thick fingers. When I spread my hands out on a table over a standard 12inch dinner plate I can pick it up with my thumb and little finger by reaching over the rim. I wear 36w50L jeans. My eyes are cobalt blue, and my hair is ebony. The only thing is my hair covers 97 percent of my body, as thick and long as the fur on a Grizzly bear. The specialists call it hypertrichosis.

Anyway, enough about my Bio for now. When I turned eighteen, I followed my father's footsteps and went to work in a hard rock gold mine, where I still work to this day. The only difference is I own the gold mine now and have for the past 5 years after sitting in on a high stakes' poker game with the mine boss. And the claim owners.

I guess you may be wondering how a mere laborer who spends all day drilling deep holes in the rock face to set explosive charges in could ever afford to sit in on a high stakes' poker game in the first place. It's not particularly difficult really, aside from getting paid a nice high salary which I hardly ever spent much of. My extra pay as an explosive's expert, our yearly bonuses. It is always hot deep in the mine. Most of us worked without our shirts, against the safety regulations but those pussy safety Nazi's rarely if ever ventured as deep into the mine as we were blasting.

At the end of our shifts, we would wipe off some of the dust, put our shirts and safety vests on, ride the elevator up then go home. After blasting all day as you might suspect a lot of dust would get trapped in my body hair with my sweat. At home I own a Royal concentrate table and I have a trap well built into the floor of my shower. My nightly showers as you can imagine were hours long, rubbing, scrubbing, and combing every particle of dust out of my hair. All of the water entered the trap well with the series of conical shaped filter baffles before exiting down the drain. On top of the gold, I captured from my daily rigorous shower activities I washed my clothes in an ultrasonic washing machine of my own design. No detergent was required to remove the dirt and grime or my sweat.

I owned 60 acres of lightly forested land on the rocky slopes of a mountain in Colorado. The same mountain where the gold mine is located, where I work. The mining company owns all of the mineral rights. Even if I were to find gold on my property the company would take it from me. But what they don't know about the gold recovery from my body and clothes might someday make me rich enough to own my own mining operation. I built my house, I call it the steel cabin, out of high cube shipping containers, by cutting sections of the sides out of them then welding them together. Two small 20 ft long containers are welded together and buried under the ones above ground.

The buried containers are where I keep my gold. I have 2 access entries to what I call mini-Knox. One is a 200 ft long tunnel carved out of the solid bedrock which connects to an old, abandoned mine entrance dating back to the 1860s. The other entrance is the only one ever used because I have it located in the floor of the Linen closet of my bathroom. What better place to hide a trap door entrance? If someone were to figure out how to break into my steel cabin and discover a trail of water leading from the shower to the linen closet, they would just thing the hairy bastard would go there to grab a towel. The chances of them ever figuring out the combination of which switches to turn on and off, or how many times this switch or that switch needed to be cycled before the floor would raise, scrunching the shelves above like the bellows of an accordion, to reveal the elevator platform to lower them into my mini-Knox. Are extremely unlikely.

Some nights I would garner nearly an ounce of micro fine particles of gold dust, sometimes even more than that. Over a 15-year period including my salary and bonuses I amassed nearly 6000 ounces of the stuff. I melted into bars every time my container was full.

The company paid us in one ounce and half ounce bars or in small jars filled with gold. So, it would not be all that unusual for any company employee to have some gold in their possession. Most of us bought everything we needed by charging it against our salaries at the store owned by the company so there was never a real need for cash, but you could exchange your gold for cash at the store.

The night of the poker game I brought three hundred of my 1-pound gold bars stacked on a cart beside me.

*****

Ben, what the fuck is the Sas. Doing sitting in on our monthly game?

Big John said he wanted to learn how to play the game Charlie.

How the fuck does he have over nine million in bars beside him. We surely don't pay him that much.

Why don't you ask him yourself Charlie.

Gentlemen, if it is a problem, my being here in your private little game I'll just get up and leave. Maybe haul my gold over to the craps table I'm really good at craps, and blackjack. And I mean really good.

OK, fuck it you can stay.

John had never shot craps or played Blackjack in his life, he had played poker many times but never at this casino and not in this city, but he figured if he laid it on as being a big-time player of those games it would steer the conversation away from how he had managed to have several million dollars' worth of gold bars at his feet.

At the start of the game John bought 50 bars worth of chips while the other 6 players bought their chips with credit or debit cards.

Sasquatch why don't you put your money in a bank and get a debit of credit card like normal people? Then you wouldn't have to haul a truck load of gold around with you?

Trying not to let on how much he hated being called Sasquatch, John kept his tongue as civil as he could.

MR, Charlie, if it is all the same to you, it is nobody's business knowing how much I have or don't have in my checking account. I prefer to know I can pay my debts. It is too easy to write a check when the balance won't cover it or for a bank to fail, or the government just decide you can only keep so much money in a given account or just decide to take your money away from you by changing a decimal place in a computer.

OK John, you do you and the rest of the world will do it our way. I'll explain the winning hands just this once the weakest hand is a single high card then 1 pair, 2 pair 3of a kind straight, a straight is where your cards are all in sequence such as 1,2,3,4,5 the Ace can either be a 1 or it can be the highest card, then there is the flush meaning all cards are the same as in Hearts, clubs, diamonds and Spades. Next is full house that is 1 pair and 3 of a kind, next 4 of a kind Straight-flush and finally the royal flush. The ranking of the suits goes like this. Clubs, workers, Diamonds the merchants, Hearts, Clergy or advisors, Spades, Nobility, Got it?

I think so sir.

Good just follow everyone's lead for the first few hands. We'll try and keep it friendly for a while. This way you won't lose all your money in the first hour.

Would any of you gentlemen care for anything to drink? How about you sir? Isn't that fur coat terribly hot?

It is at times honey, but other times it has its advantages if you know what I mean. I'll have a double Jamison's neat.

That sounds good, double Jamison's all the way around. And sweetheart could you bring each of us a box of house chips.

Yes sir,

John was thinking, these poor fools don't know what they are getting into. I outweigh all of them by at least 200 pounds, and I bet Mr. Charlie wouldn't weigh 150 soaking wet in a wool suit.

OK gentlemen for the first 5 rounds how about the set the bet limit to 100 dollars. Just to let Sas. Get the feel of the game.

Big John the Sasquatch lost all 5 of the first hands, but just barely. He was feeling out the other players as much as they were trying to get a feel for his ability to play the game.

MR, Charlie, I think I have the game figured out now. You don't have to pussy foot around with me anymore.

One more hand John then we bring out the big guns, I'm looking forward to wheeling that pile of your gold home with me tonight.

John won that hand with a low straight.

I don't know about the rest of you but I'm ready for another drink.

Sweetheart, bring us a double shot White over-proof rum and a bottle of Brewmeister Snake venom chaser.

God Damned that fucking beer was a strong as the fucking rum.

Sorry Charlie, but I happen to like the flavor. Tell you what you can buy the next round if you are going to pussy out on what I like to buy for us to drink.

Fuck off John, you are forgetting who owns the mine.

The night isn't over yet Charlie. I plan to put my nine and a half million plus my winnings against the title of your mine before the night is over.

You can't be that drunk already John.

Little did Charlie know but due to John's 400-pound weight it would be quite impossible for him to get drunk on the few rounds of spirits they had consumed. Charlie on the other hand, being the smallest of anyone at the table, was already feeling the effects of the strong drinks, more than he wanted to admit.

Hahaha I'm just fucking with you Charlie on the account of half the time you call me Sas. Instead of my name. Besides, I've won maybe three hands so far and don't know how much I'm down. I believe it's my deal. 10,000.00 anti-gentlemen if you please.

John lost the hand with the pot up around 2 million. He won the next 5 hands in a row then lost a couple, won another, lost a couple, won 3, lost one. Folded on several. After 3 hours 2 of the players tapped out.

The thing about a poker game with a shit load of gold bars stacked on the floor and on carts around the table is they draw crowds.

Pardon me gents is this just a friendly game or can anyone join? A tall sandy haired man asked with a voice that could only have meant that he was from somewhere in the deep south.

Mister, this game stopped being friendly hours ago. There are 2 empty chairs, you are welcome to occupy one if you have the balls and the funds.

Several more hours passed, a few players had come and gone, the lure of the hundreds of pounds of gold bars around and under the table was like prickly pear apples are to young children. Too pretty to pass up but very painful to try and get one. Many of them leaving the table a few million dollars less than they started out with.

The gentleman from South Carolina. Had won and lost a few hands. The next time he got the deal he asked. Gentlemen this game is beginning to bore the hell out of me what say we up the stakes a bit. How's 3 million for the anti-sound?

Just deal the cards Mister. Said John.

Charlie Ben, Tom, John it's been fun, but I've lost all I can afford to lose tonight. See you at the office in the morning Ben.

Tom said, yes, I'm out of here too. I think I am down nearly 14 million for the night, Sorry Charlie but you just had to teach John how to play didn't you? Well, good luck, you are going to need it.

A man called Slim, was the next to leave the game. After losing a little over 20 million for the night.

Carolina Jack had palmed the Ace of hearts as he dealt. The only one who noticed this was John.

"I will take 4 said John.

Fold said Ben.

Two said Charlie.

Dealer takes three.

Dealer bets five million.

"Covered and raised ten million said Charlie.

Covered and raised another five million said John.

Covered and Called said Jack. Show your hands gentlemen.

Charlie put his five million in and showed a Jack high full house.

John laid out a Queen high Straight flush.

Carolina Jack tossed his cards on the table saying Royal flush gentlemen. However, in his haste to toss his cards a lowly 6 of clubs started to fall from his sleeve as he was attempting to rake the pot to his spot on the table.

As soon as John spotted the card, he grabbed Jacks hand and crushed bones as he twisted jack's wrist to expose the barely still lodged card.

Not so fast, Jack, under the rules of the house any player caught cheating forfeits all his winnings and the chips he has to the guy with the next highest hand. That would be me. I believe the pot and the remaining forty million in chips you have now belong to me.

Jack was escorted out of the casino by the security.

A couple of hours later a few more players had come and gone leaving their dreams of big winnings in the growing piles in front of John and Ben.

Ben was sweating bullets, The pot kept growing through the night, He had a small amount of winnings overall, but again he wasn't as big a player as Charlie. If he was honest with himself, he knew he should bow out of the game. Even though Charlie was down close to 50 million his arrogance just wouldn't let him concede to John, no matter the stakes. He had written dozens of markers during the night. And John had every one of them in his pocket, along with markers and land titles from a few of the other players who had joined and left the game.

Last Hand guys.

Ben, how many cards do you want?

I'll take 2,

John?

I'm good.

Dealer takes 3. I'll start this off with 10 million.

I'll see the 10 and raise another 5 million.

25 matched and raised you 30. Said John.

Charlie writes out another marker to cover the bet, then writes one to raise the bet another 30 million.

I fold said Ben, I know when to hold em, when to fold em and when to walk away.

John fumbles in his pocket for the markers he already has. Then does something no one ever does at a poker table. He counted up all of the markers, his stack of chips plus the gold at his feet. Pulled his check book out of his pocket. Glanced at the balance then returned it to his pocket.

I'll see you 30 and raise you 60 million.

Charlie, knowing he couldn't possibly cover all of the markers he had written without selling the mine, wrote out a marker listing the title of the mine to cover the bet. Placing it on the pile he said I call.

John laid his cards out and spread them.

A fucking pair of 7s is all you've got.

Show Me your cards Charlie.

Fuck you. And your fucking 7s I'm not showing you my cards the pot belongs to me.

John reaches across the table and grabs Charlie's hand.

Lay out your cards Charlie or I break your hand.

Charlie timidly lays his cards on the table. Nothing but a busted straight.

Picking up the marker with Charlie's signature signing over the mine, he hands it to the waitress.

Sweetheart would you ask the manager to take a picture of this while it is laying on this table, please.

Then he lays 10 gold bars on the table.

These are your honey, my plane leaves in an hour to take me back to my mine. I'd like you to come with me.

I can't my boss would fire me.

I just gave you a 20,000.00 tip to bring your manager out to take a picture and you are worrying about being fired. Hahaha. Ben, I think I may fall in love with this girl.

Charlie, I expect to see you on the first elevator down the shaft bright and early OK.

The fucking mine is not yours yet Sasquatch. My lawyers will shave your ass bare before you ever get ownership of my fucking mine.

Not this time Charlie. Ben said, I think if you even think about reneging on the bet John just might drag your ass to the bottom of the mine and set off a charge in your ass.

MR. Big John, I think I will be on that plane with you after all. Mr. Charlie there has tried to finger fuck me every time I brought you gentlemen a round of drinks all night. I'll be right back with my manager. Oh boy is he ever going to flip out.

Ben.

Yes Mr. John.

None of that MR. shit Ben, OK?

Yes Sir. Whatever you say Sir.

And cut that sir shit out. I'm giving you 10 no 20 percent of the mine. Effective immediately you are in total control of all mining operations as you see fit.

In that case, John I have always felt that Charlie has missed a fortune in alluvial gold deposits at the base of the mountain where the mine is located. 5 years before you started working at the mine, we had to abandon a tunnel we were digging in when the tunnel opened up in a void that had an underground river flowing through it. The river flooded the mine, and it took us the better part of a year before we managed to seal the tunnel. We had been following a rich vein when it happened. It is my belief that the river carries a lot of gold out of the mountain somewhere.

How much of the mountain do we own?

We own the whole mountain plus a few miles all around the base of it, John.

Then it is past time to do a little prospecting Ben. Why don't you hire an exploratory drill and poke a few holes? If you find any core samples with 20 dollars' worth of gold in them mark the spot as a future site for stripping. There has to be a faster safer way to get more gold than turning the mountain into Swiss cheese.

And My budget to get started will be how much?

These slips of paper. Assuming any of them are worth more than the scrap of paper on which they are written. If any of them won't cash just tell me. I assure you they will cash, or little Charlie here will regret it. Won't you little Charlie?

Uh, they'll cash, Sa I mean MR. John.

******

What is your name sweetheart?

Oh, sorry, John. My name is Heather.

Well then, Heather, how would you like a tour of my mine?

I'd much rather just let you keep probing my vagina with that penis sized middle finger of yours. My God I think your finger is almost a large as any man's thing that has ever been in there. I can only imagine how huge your penis is. Is it as hairy as the rest of your body?

About half of it is bare my dear. The rest of the shaft is wrapped in a carpet of hair just like the rest of me is. Once when I was 18. I went to a place that guaranteed to be able to remove hair permanently. After a 100 3-hour sessions, I was hairless. It wasn't long afterwards though all of it started to grow back After that I just gave up trying. I shave my face from my neck all the way up to the top of my forehead at least 3 times a day and rub a depilatory cream on my hands and fingers twice a day.

Oh my God you poor man. From now on that will be my job. I will groom any and every part of yo9ur body that you ask me to. If you want to be bald as a grape everywhere, all you have to do is say so. OK?

Heather, you don't have any idea what you are getting yourself into. I don't care if you want to try and make me as hairless as a newborn newt, you are more than welcome to try. If you enjoy sitting on my finger while you work on my hair, I'm good with that too.

As much as I love sitting on your finger John. What I really want is a shot at impaling myself on the monster I suspect a man of your size will have. How else are we ever going to have children?