The Trespasser Ch. 02

"And we return to the scene of the crime," Cecilia grumbled. "What the fuck am I doing here?"

Her old Subaru crunched the gravel as she rolled alongside a 20 year old, well I used but well cared for, full size four wheel drive pickup.

Cecilia had ridden in this truck at the end of her last visit. She remembered the look on Martin's face after she had asked him to drive her back to her car at the trailhead. He had just given her a ride to his house from the cabin on the back of his ATV, with her hugging his back and her face buried in his scent the entire way, both of them enjoying the close contact.

When she first asked for a ride to her car, which was not at his house as it should have been, he had been confused. As he followed her directions, his pickup had been filled to breaking with the quiet of his growing concern, and by the time they had gotten to her car, his face had been a mask of terror. She had left him with a kiss on his cheek in the moment he had accepted that she really was a lost hiker and he had just raped her. As she had driven away, she could tell he had been dying inside. It had seemed like a fun joke at the time, but after she felt more guilty with every day that had passed.

Now she was back.

Out of the car and girded for whatever happened next, she knocked on the front door. The house screamed 1950s ranch style. It was freshly painted a mocha color with white trim and forest green and terracotta highlights. The colors worked together much better than she would have expected.

After a couple of mInutes she knocked again on the green door a little harder.

After another delay she was about to pound more loudly with the bottom of her fist when it swung open. She stood frozen with her clenched hand raised to strike. Martin rewarded her with a look of startled panic in response to her raised fist.

"Hey, Tin-man," she said brightly then lowered her hand to her side.

"Ah," he unintelligibly replied.

"Cecil," she provided. "I know it's been a couple weeks, but I figured you'd remember my name."

"I remember just fine. I still like Cecilia better."

"But my friends call me Cecil."

"Would I be a friend after I, you know?"

"After you raped me?"

"Yeah that."

"So you know I was truly just a trespassing hiker."

"Yeah. Are you okay?"

She struggled glibly, "I survived."

"I feel horrible, when it turned out you weren't the real girl-"

"I'm not a real girl?! I thought your illicit explorations had established that I am very much a real girl."

"Yeah."

"What happened to her, anyway? You know, the 'real' girl?" she held up air quotes.

"Her message just said, that the drive was too far, too isolated, and she didn't want to walk by herself to the cabin." Martin grimaced, "I think she got cold feet at the last minute."

"Where'd you find her, a dating site, phone app?"

"I really don't want to talk about it. So, am I in trouble?"

"With the law? No. With me?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe?"

"Oh?"

"I figure you owe me. Big time."

"Owe you what?"

She took a breath and in a quick burst she said, "I get to stay in your cabin as much as I want, whenever I want." She added a hopeful smile as she awaited his reply.

Without delay he responded, "Okay, it's yours to use."

Cecilia was startled at how easy that was.

"Really? Just like that?"

"Sure, but why stay there? It's not very comfortable."

Martin followed when she turned and walked to her car, opening the rear hatch.

She spoke as she put her head into the rear of the car, "I write books. I need solitude sometimes. I think it will be perfect. Well almost. Needs electricity and plumbing."

He watched her shapely butt wagging as she dug in the back of her car.

"Okay. So, I'm not in trouble?" he attempted to confirm.

"That's what we need to find out."

She stood and handed him a box filled with power cords and battery packs.

"How's this work?"

"Well, these are chargers and spare batteries for my laptop." She pointed to each item as she explained as though he was 4 years old. "You plug them into the wall to charge my laptop batteries so you can bring fresh ones to me everyday."

Irritated with her evasion he responded, "No. I meant how do we figure out if I'm in trouble?"

She went on in an overly patient tone, still as though she was explaining something obvious to a young child, "I knew what you meant. I deliberately diverted the conversation."

He dryly replied, "And you just diverted it again."

"I can do it all day if you want."

"That's okay, I'll pass. When are you moving in?"

"Right now."

"Now?"

"You've got to plug those in first. They are going to be my life's blood so I can work."

***

The next revelation was the ATV he had for her to use for commuting to and from the cabin. It was a spare quad, identical to the one he used. Strangely, it was only lightly used even though it was several years old.

Later, while she was settling in, he came back with a bag of clothes. They were heavy jackets, thermal tights, gloves, knit caps, all in her size. Like the quad they were lightly used.

When she raised a questioning brow, he offered in mocking imitation of the patient, explaining tone she had used early, "It gets really cold in this little valley. The cold air from the mountains settles here and the low hills shelter it from the wind. Even on nice days it's like an ice box at night."

There was a finality to his statement that did not invite additional questions, such as, why do you have cold weather gear for a petite woman on hand. A vagrant thought roamed her mind, that these were the clothes of his previous victims. He kept them as a trophy, like an animal's pelt.

So tied up with her inner thoughts she had somehow missed the moment he had left.

"What no goodbye? A hug, or kiss?" she muttered. "Maybe a farewell screw?"

She held the freshly laundered clothes to her nose and inhaled what was becoming her new favorite scent. She would need to find out the brand of fabric softener he used.

He came to visit a third time that day, just before sunset. Cecilia had been sitting on a log in front of the cabin enjoying the view of the lake through the trees outlining her next novel and making notes on a spiral bound notepad.

Without speaking to her he began to unstrap logs from the back of the quad. Then, he went through the process of breaking them down into firewood with a long handled axe.

Cecilia watched intently. She wished he'd take off his shirt.

After stacking the wood in the cabin by the stove he asked, "Can you start a fire?"

"Yes."

"You should start one now. It takes a little while to warm that place up because of all the stone. Nice on a hot summer day, but cold at night. I could do it for you."

"I'm fine."

"Try to keep the fire going through the night. You may need to wake up a couple times to fix it."

"I will be okay." She smiled. "Why don't you stay the night so you can mind the fire for me."

He scoffed at her and left. She had no idea how to read him. He was a closed book. Had he scoffed because he had no desire for her? That was at odds with his wandering eyes. She pondered the question until the cold evening air chased her inside at sunset, then found the cabin even more icily cold. As he had warned, the fire took a long time to warm the small room so she spent the evening under the warm pile of blankets Martin had provided wishing he would have stayed, if only to warm her bed.

The scent of the bedding reminded her of the night she had spent with him. Her fingers slipped into her panties as she thought back to how Martin has pushed her over the bed and forcefully taken her from behind.

She dipped her hand down to steal some moisture from her pussy. Using it, she stroked circles around her clit. Her eyes went shut as she squeezed genitals between her fingers. Gathering more of her wetness she repeated the process.

"Oh, Tin-man. Please," she whispered.

Reliving their evening together in her mind, her hand played between her legs.

"Oh yes, why couldn't you have stayed to do this for me and mmm, and given me something to suck on. God!" She cried in pleasure.

***

Everyday Martin came to chop wood and everyday Cecilia attempted to discover if she had any hidden telekinetic powers to rip his shirt off.

On the fourth day, laid out on a towel in a very brief bikini while she made no effort to hide the fact she was watching him, he looked at her body with equal interest.

Between swings of the axe he nodded to her scratch pad and asked, "What are you writing?"

"Oh this? I'm planning a novel to pitch to my publisher."

"So you're published?"

"Yes, three titles."

"Would I have heard of any of them?"

"Probably not."

"Try me, I love to read. A book a week at least."

"They're, uh, not your style."

"How would you know?"

"Trust me."

"Tell me."

She puffed her cheeks out and pled with the sky before saying. "They're steampunk bodice rippers."

He stopped and leaned on the axe handle.

"Body rippers? Like horror?"

She slowly enunciated, "Bodice ripper," At his lack of comprehension, she took another deep breath, "It's Brit slang for romance novel."

"So, you write steampunk romance novels?"

She answered a little defensively, "Yes, romance novels with a steampunk setting."

"Okay? Why are you being so coy?"

"Have you ever read a romance novel?"

"No."

"Basically, it's hardcore porn in book form. I write steampunk porn."

"Oh." He blinked. "Really?" he looked and sounded genuinely surprised.

"Yes."

"Girls want to read that?"

"Yes."

"You don't want to write them?"

"I don't mind, but what I want is to write sci-fi thrillers. I wrote one with a steampunk theme but it didn't get any interest. One publisher liked the love scene though, paid me to change the book, so it's more sexy. It sold okay so I wrote two more, like a series."

"Building a following?"

"They're spank books for 20 year old girls. But yeah a little, tiny following. I think I've got about seven girls intensely interested in me as an author."

He laughed, "What's your pen name?"

She told him.

"Are you writing another?" he asked indicating her notepad.

"This one is different. It's about a mountain recluse who takes a woman captive in his cabin and plays with her. Physically." With a sexy tone she added, "I think you know exactly what I mean."

Martin's smile evaporated.

"Little did he know that she was a princess from the faery realm. Her father, the dark faery king, takes them both to his kingdom. They are going to have to find their way back to the human world, getting away from her evil father and her jealous Prince fiance, fighting the enemy and fucking each other the entire way. And of course they fall in love too. I'm trying to force a fantasy thriller story on my publisher by filling it with wall-to-wall sex. For some variety her fiance has an addiction to screwing Flower Sprites. Hunts them; catch and release so to speak. Her father keeps a harem of captive pixies. He keeps them in a giant bird cage, in bondage. Got to tie up a pixie yeah know, if you want to keep her in place so you can, do what you will with her."

Passing over most of what she said, Martin grumbled disapprovingly, "Mountain recluse?"

Cecil quickly replied, "Any resemblance to persons real or fictional is purely coincidental. Though, the first chapter may feel a little... ah... familiar to you. You know like deja Vu."

"Alright, this should be enough wood to get you through the night."

"Hold on, I'm going to ride back with you."

"Back where?"

"I'm going to visit my mom." She combed her hair with her fingers for a moment. "After I borrow your shower."

She slowly walked to the cabin, hoping that he was getting an eyeful. After entering the cabin, she left the door open. Stripping off her bikini, she looked over her shoulder with what she hoped was an inviting smile, but Martin was still outside and he looked away when she caught him staring at her bare ass.

"Jesus, who does a girl have to blow around here to get laid?" she grumbled just loud enough for him to hear.

***

"Hey Mom," Cecilia said then kissed her forehead. Sitting in the adjacent chair she went on, "I found the most wonderful cabin. It's by a spring and small lake in the mountains. There's a stand of pines around it. It's so pretty." Cecilia sighed. "I'm going to live in it for a while."

Her mother listened silently.

"There's a boy too, the same one I told you about a couple weeks ago. Oh, don't worry, I think I'm safe, he hasn't tried it again, even though I've tried to tempt him. I even left the bathroom door open while I showered. Pretty sure he watched for a couple minutes, but no luck." She paused and considered her mother's closed eyes before continuing, "I know I'm being stupid, but I have a feeling about him, like I belong there for some reason. Just feels like it's where I need to be, it's hard to explain. And I really do love that cabin."

Cecilia talked on and on ceaselessly. She told her mother about living in the cabin, described the unnatural cold of being there at night if the fire went out, and about the new story she was planning to write. She even vented about about a review about her friend's book she thought had been unfair.

After three hours she ran out of things to say. She kissed her mother's cheek, looked at her withered, quiescent form perpetually unconscious in the bed and refused to shed the tears collecting in her eyes.

"I'll see you in a few days. Love you, Mom."

***

Martin sent the head of the ax slicing through the wood, sending the halves flying. He bent to toss them on the pile he was making.

"Here, let me help," Cecillia offered.

She bent at the waist reaching for the kindling he had made. He watched her lithe body in the bikini. Her side-boob was enticingly displayed, then she turned away from him to pick up the other piece, offering her well formed ass to him.

He wanted to feel it, to relive the night he had taken her. His mind recalled watching himself sink into her body while looking down at the perfect round mounds of flesh of her ass now bent in his face.

From the corner of her eye she could tell he was watching her.

Martin suddenly lost his resolve and said, "Don't you have clothes? Why are you always in a bikini?"

"I'm not always in a bikini. Earlier I took it off while I was swimming."

"You went skinny dipping?"

"No. Don't be silly. But I don't bath with clothes on either. If you got down here a little earlier you'd see. This morning you missed seeing me naked by only 5 minutes."

"You need to stop this."

"I don't see what the big deal is. You've seen all I have to offer already. You played with my pussy and did other things to it. You stuck your tongue in it for goodness sake. Now you're afraid to see it?"

"I..." he huffed and stopped himself.

He looked ready to explode, so she tried to diffused the situation. "I think this place needs a boat dock.

"Boat dock?" he jumped at the change in subject.

"Yeah. It would be nice to not have to walk on the rocks along the lakeshore to go swimming and we could get a little row boat to take on the lake." She was thinking of him without a shirt again, this time rowing a boat.

"We could fish off it too."

"There's fish?"

"Yeah some big ones. They like to hang out right here near the trees where the spring feeds in. The middle of the lake is much deeper than you'd think. They might like to hang out around the dock."

"I've been swimming naked with fish?" she sounded scandalized.

He laughed. "Whenever you swim in a natural body of water you are swimming with fish."

"But this time I was naked."

"I'm sure the fish were enjoying the view."

"I'd rather you enjoyed the view."

She stepped close, running a finger along his chest. His breath caught as she teased his nipple. On impulse she stood on her toes and tried to kiss him. Martin pulled away. She could see the tortured looked on his face.

He started, "I-," but cut off whatever he was going to say.

He left her standing there. In a bikini. Wanting to fool around but alone. In other circumstances she might have been hurt by this rejection, but she wanted him and knew he wanted her. She would have to keep playing the long game.

Her eyes darkened and with a dangerous tone she quietly told his disappearing silhouette, "You will be mine."

***

Martin was scarce for a few days. He arrived with already chopped wood and left as fast as he could.

She was becoming angry, debating in her mind what action to take. She could leave, but that would not serve her purposes, she could go full nudist to catch his attention, or she could ride up, force her way into his house and make him interact with her and hopefully fuck her relentlessly. Maybe if she went to his house naked and attacked him. She was getting desperate for the feel of him inside her.

On the third day he showed up with the dawn, waking her. It had been so long since he deigned to speak to her, she was surprised and missed what he said.

"Your dad is on the phone," he repeated.

"If he calls back, tell him I'll call him as soon as I get dressed."

"No. He said it's important. He's waiting."

"Waiting on the phone right now?"

"Yes. Let's go."

"God, it took you at least fifteen minutes to get here already. How long is he going to hold on."

"I told him it would be a while, he said he'd wait."

She looked down at her lack of attire. "Shit. Give me a second."

She slid out of bed in her panties and tank top.

She stepped into jeans and swapped the tank top for a t-shirt while Martin watched. He was obviously interested, why would he not do more of what they had already done? Did he think she was just here for the mountain air?

Minutes later she was chasing Martin up the trail faster than she thought the quads could go. Faster than she wanted them to go, she was terrified but she stayed on the throttle.

Once in the house, Martin handed her the phone.

"Dad?"

"Cecil, baby." His voice was thick.

Instinctively, she knew exactly what the trouble was. She had been expecting it for months, but she asked the question anyhow, "Everything okay?"

"It's your mom, she's... not doing well."

"How bad?"

"You need to come say goodbye as soon as possible. Right now."

"I'll be there."

The phone bounced off the floor when she missed while handing it back to Martin.

"Got to go," she mumbled to no one in particular. "Shit, my car keys are in the cabin."

"I will drive you."

"I'm okay. I just need to-"

"No you aren't. You're a wreck. I will take you."

She was not coherent enough to argue with him.

***

Her father met them as they entered the hospital.

"This is Martin." Cecilia introduced him to her father.

"Thanks for getting her here." her father shook Martin's hand.

"Mom?" Cecilia could not form a logical thought.

"They say her organs are shutting down. They wanted to put her on a ventilator and start dialysis. I told them no," her father said as though the words had been learned by rote.

"It's okay Dad. She wouldn't want it."

"I feel like I'm giving up on her."

"No, you held on to hope long enough."

"They say it's unlikely she will survive more than a few hours but that was a few hours ago. You should say goodbye."

She was almost unaware as a strong arm guided her to her mother. As she walked, she recalled the last conversation she had had with her mother.

Her mother had looked at her and asked, "Carry?"

She had replied, "Mom, Carry is your sister, I'm your daughter, Cecil."

"You're my daughter? You're so pretty, just like Carry." Then she shifted from confused to certain. "Yes, of course."