Yukon - She Never Knew The Real Me

I waited for a few minutes and was just about to follow when Pierre said, "I want to talk."

Politely I paused to listen, only to hear him say, "I don't like bed you gave me."

The nerve of the man. He turned up out of the blue, imposed himself upon our hospitality, and then dared to complain. I shook my head in disbelief and asked rather haughtily, "Just what exactly is wrong with it?"

"It's too small. It's far too small for a man like me." He stood tall and had an evil grin. "I think that bed fits you, so I say we swap."

I laughed out loud; this was ridiculous. "Let me get this right; you are proposing that my wife and I should sleep in the bunk beds and let you have the whole of the large bedroom to yourself."

"No, 'mon Amie.' Your wife stays, and you go."

"If this is a joke, I don't think it's at all funny."

"It's no joke," he said with a deadpan face devoid of humor. "I decided I will stay all month and be sleeping with your wife."

"What if I don't like the idea of my wife having sex with anyone other than me?" I asked, not yet taking him seriously.

"I say you get used to it," Pierre replied. "It's already happened, and it will happen again after I have gone. Your wife is type I recognize; a woman who doesn't let marriage stop her fucking other men. I bet anything that some other man's 'Grosse bite' has dibbled her love box since you marry her."

I didn't intend to sit discussing my wife's fidelity. "If you try to touch her, I'll stop you," I threatened.

"You'll try," Pierre said, standing up. This action immediately reminded me of how powerful he was. "You'll try, and I hurt you badly and then tie you up. If I tie you up, you stay tied all month unless I decide to drop you in pond."

I felt fear for the first time as it struck home how easily he could make good his threats. He was twice my bodily bulk, and where I had not raised a hand in anger since leaving school, he looked as if physical violence was a regular part of his life. My only chance was to either talk him out of his obscene plan or find some way to outwit him.

"You wouldn't dare," I said, resorting to bluff. "The authorities know we are here, and they will hunt you down."

"Who will they look for? Your wife won't tell. "he said, some semblance of a smile showing on his coarse lips.

"My name isn't Pierre, and it has done me well for the past three years. However, I've already done time inside for rape and murder, so I needed a new name for getting work."

"Who did you kill?" I had to ask.

"All you need to know is he was just like you until I kill him."

"But you got caught," I pointed out.

"I won't make same mistake again. The other guy didn't know who I was."

"How do you mean?"

"He was bigger than you. He thought he could take me on. I know you're more sensible. You will avoid getting hurt and do what I tell you. Now you go into that bedroom and tell wife how things are."

"Fuck you."

"You don't believe I kill you?" Pierre questioned, anger in his eyes.

"If you kill me, you kill me. I'm confident you'll be hunted down and punished for whatever you do."

"No chance. There are a million square miles of wilderness out there, and it's my world. With just a knife, tinder, and a water bottle, I could survive forever, but you'd be dead within a week." As he spoke, Pierre pulled a large vicious looking Bowie-style knife from a sheath on his belt and tossed it casually onto the heavy wooden table. "I mention that in case you think of running away."

The knife introduced a new element, and for the first time, I saw a glimmer of hope that I might beat him. I didn't know if he was overconfident or just careless, but it offered me a chance to protect Helen. From where I was sitting, I would quite reasonably pass between Pierre and the table to go to the bedroom, and for one vital moment, I would be closer to the knife than him. However, it was important not to rush things or give him any suspicion that I intended to resist. And I also had the feeling that he wanted me to go for the knife, and if he expects me to try, I don't stand a chance against him.

"It doesn't look as if I have any choice," I admitted.

"It is going to happen. We do it nice way or hard way, is up to you," Pierre said smugly. "If it's nice and friendly, all three of us will have great time. It won't spoil your holiday. As long as you two behave, you and your wife can do whatever during day."

I stood with slumped shoulders to signal defeat and said unhappily, "I better tell her then." Then, moving slowly with feigned reluctance, I started walking towards the bedroom, but as I passed the table, I casually trailed my fingers along the surface until they touched the knife. At that point, my body blocked Pierre's view of the weapon, so I whirled around, and his hand shot up to grab my arm and hold it in an iron grip.

He looked up with an evil grin, displaying a mouthful of broken teeth, then realized I hadn't picked up the knife. He released my arm. "Smart man," he said. Pierre nodded towards the bedroom door, and in an almost sympathetic voice, said, "Go on. Give lovely wife the good news that she's sharing her bed with a real man for a change. Tell her however way you choose. I'll give you half an hour to tell her, but if you're not out by then, I'm coming in."

I stopped, trying to recall something he had said, and I remembered, "What did you mean when you said 'It's already happened and will happen again,' Pierre?"

He was caught off guard with that question and tried to sidetrack me with his answer, "I meant she has already cheated on you while you were married and will do it again."

"No, there's no way you could know whether she has done it or wants to do it. When have you had a chance to talk to her? We just arrived at the hotel last night. Wait a minute, that smell in the cabin and those stupid questions the Captain was asking me. You fucked her while that old man distracted me, didn't you? Then he blew the horn when I left the bridge to let you know I was returning to my wife."

Boy, did I feel the village idiot? I hate people making a fool out of me and telling me what to do.

"No. You tell her, you fucked her, she's yours."

That shocked him. I turned and entered the narrow bunk room, thinking my life was over, and I felt numb and empty, but at the same time, I was bursting with rage.

"I could drag you out here and beat crap out of you. Then she'll know what I will do to her."

"Go ahead. She already knows what you're going to do anyway."

"Maybe I should drag you into woods, gut you and leave you for critters to eat."

"Maybe you should."

The look he gave me was not anger; it was surprise. I realize I'm not a hunk, and I don't scare anyone, but he had his notion of what my reaction should be, and I didn't follow his script.

I grabbed the walking stick I found and faced him. "Well, let's do it."

He hesitated, now he was confused.

"You'll kill me, but I will hurt you, right between your legs. So come on or fuck off."

Pierre started toward me, then suddenly turned around and stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door closed.

I strolled over to the door and listened; I heard yelling from both of them. I retreated to the bunk room and shut the door. I sat down on the bed, thinking that the cave would come in handy now. I was thinking about the supplies I would need when the door was pushed open by Helen.

"Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine. Did Pierre inform you of his plan for our month here?"

"Yes. Rape for me every night, or I can go with the flow and not be hurt."

"Well, It can't be rape since he already fucked you on the boat."

"No, I didn't; we didn't...."

"Don't lie. Now I know what that smell was in the cabin."

"Please, I'm sorry, but he forced me. He threatened to kill you if I didn't let him have his way."

Sarcastically I replied, "Yes, dear. Goodnight."

She looked a little miffed and slowly backed away before finally walking back to the bedroom. I realized I had not kissed her goodnight.

I dozed for a while until 1:00 AM and then got up. I walked toward the pantry in my socks and remembered how I stored the cans, so I started pulling cans out, leaving the front two rows intact. I quietly loaded the cans in the two backpacks we brought with us, grabbed one of the two can openers we had, and carried the packs to the outside door. I loaded one on my left shoulder and one on my right, and using the flashlight, followed the trail and path back to the cave. I neatly stacked all the cans in a corner. Then, carrying the empty packs, I walked quickly back to the cabin. As I entered my hell house, I grabbed my sleeping bag and went to my new room. Placing the two bunk beds side-by-side, I was able to jam the door shut. Then I undressed and slept on the outside bunk in my sleeping bag.

I woke with a tune running through my head but realized that the sound came from beyond the room I slept in. After dressing myself, I moved the bunk beds back and opened the door. The mouth-watering smell of bacon cooking pleasantly assailed my nostrils. Pierre stood in front of the iron stove, cheerfully whistling as he fried eggs, bacon, and sausages in a large skillet on the hot plate.

An unknowing observer would have seen a friendly, generous man cooking for his companions without suspecting that this same 'friendly' man had forced me to surrender the pleasure of my wife's soft body to him. Pierre using Helen last night and for many nights to come would be perverse and was unfair, but all the same, I suddenly realized that I was ravenously hungry.

On seeing me, Pierre raised his hand in a wave and invited, "Come, grab a plateful, set yourself up for the day.

The jovial figure he now presented was in stark contrast to the taciturn threatening individual of before. Even though hatred of him filled my heart, I could see that he would be perceived as a welcome addition to many groups when his evil side was not in evidence. Though I was reluctant to receive anything from the man's hand, I accepted the proffered plate of food and carried it to the table. Helen appeared as I started to eat. I looked towards her, but she avoided my eyes and went over to collect her breakfast. She sat down opposite, and this time she did respond to my gaze, giving a simple nod in answer to my unspoken question, 'Did he fuck you?"

We ate in silence until, speaking with his mouthful, Pierre asked, "So what do you do today?"

"We're not sure, "Helen replied, but implicit in her answer was the fact that we did not know if we were allowed plans.

"What would you do if I not here? I don't want interfere, heh, heh, heh." Pierre told her. "I go hunting finding some meat for table, so I care less what you do. I like fresh meat, and food you brought isn't enough for three." Little did he know what I had done last night.

My wife informed him that we were going hiking, and nothing more was said. I went into the bedroom and went to the dresser to remove my clothes. As I picked up the first pile, Helen stood at the door with her hand over her mouth. Last night, Pierre and Helen's coupling had left the bed linens a mess, and I guess she was embarrassed.

I was hoping we would be left alone in the cabin, so we delayed while putting on our hiking boots and inclement weather gear, hoping he would go. But, unfortunately, he seemed to have the same idea, so, carrying a small camping stove, bottles of water, and food in our backpacks, we set off.

We must have walked in silence for over an hour. For the first time since I left Helen alone in the bedroom with him, we were free to talk, but it was apparent we had nothing to say to each other. That was the opposite of the truth because my mind was brimming over with questions. The problem was that I had no idea how to voice them.

That effectively blocked me off entirely from her, so we continued for several minutes more with neither of us speaking. Then she said suddenly, "For your peace of mind -- it was nowhere near as bad as I imagined it would be."

"How do you mean?"

"I thought he was going to rape me brutally, but he was surprisingly gentle until I had adjusted to his size."

"His size?"

"He's got a huge cock. It must be at least twice as big as yours, in thickness if not in length."

"But it was still rape."

'

"Technically, it was, I guess."

"What do you mean 'technically' he had sex with you against your will?" I said sharply as my pent-up feelings broke through.

"That's what I mean," Helen said patiently, "I just wanted you to know that he didn't hurt me, at least no more than he could help."

"So he was a courteous rapist, wonderful." Sarcasm was dripping out of my mouth, and Helen looked down at her feet.

"So when your daughter or son by Pierre asks you where was he or she conceived, you can tell them about the courteous rape." Helen sobbed as I wasn't giving her any comfort after last night's ordeal.

I halted as the mental image conjured by her words seemed to take all strength out of my legs, and I believe I began to hyperventilate. My wife quickly reached out to take my hand tightly in hers, but I twisted out of her grip as she spoke, "Darling, you mustn't let yourself dwell on this. It's only sex. We're in a bad situation, but we can get through it if we both stay strong. The secret is to make the best of things, and whatever happens, don't provoke him."

That seemed to clear the air around her empty head a little, and her mood lightened somewhat. I was beginning to wonder who I could see to get a refund on this marriage? In fact, by the time we had put some miles between our captor and us, the pleasant weather and the picnic lunch had put Helen in a much happier mood. I put a fake smile on my face but internally, I was still outraged. When we started the return journey, depression began to overwhelm me. The difference between my wife and I walking back toward the cabin was that my footsteps tended to drag while Helen strode out purposefully as if she couldn't wait to get back to her big dick.

Pierre was in front of the cabin, spit roasting a deer-like animal over a fire. As soon as we appeared, he gave instructions on what needed to be prepared to accompany the meat. It was delicious and just what I needed after a long, tiring day, physically and emotionally. Helen and I cleared the table and washed up; then, she settled on the couch with her book. Pierre spent some time working on what I guessed were fishing lures and then started carving a large lump of wood with his hunting knife.

I could not concentrate on anything, and after an hour of inactivity, I announced that I was turning in and went to the bunk room. After blocking the door again, I realized I should have at least gone through the motions of kissing my wife goodnight. As it was, it must seem to them that I had meekly accepted my new place in the scheme of things. In truth, the only reason I left was my desire to kill both of them and burn the cabin down. I knew that it would be a while before I could hope to escape to the land of nod, so there was nothing else to do but think.

My situation was unusual now, but it was probably normal in the time of our ancient ancestors. Most current ape species have a single alpha male with breeding rights over a harem comprising all available females. All other males in the tribe cluster together and wait. Early hominids likely were the same, which means there must be some genetic imprinting in the human psyche. What was even more pertinent to me was the role of displaced leaders.

In the animal kingdom, generally, leaders get challenged, but this rarely leads to death for either contender; in fact, serious wounds are unusual. For bloodline and genetic diversity reasons, zoos create this situation artificially by introducing a new potent male into an established group. I have seen it happen on film where there is skirmishing with superficial scratches inflicted, but the encounter is decided more on nerve than strength. What is striking is that the loser invariably accepts his demoted status without further challenge or any apparent resentment. I had to wonder if there was any lesson to be learned from this.

I made only one compulsive visit outside my room to listen at the bedroom door but heard nothing. I hopefully surmised that Pierre was taking it easy on Helen. After blocking the door again, sleep overtook me in much the same way as the previous night.

Helen was on breakfast duty the following morning, but we couldn't talk as Pierre was sitting in a chair again, working on his fishing lures. The meal was thin fried strips of venison plus some of the animals' internal organs such as liver and kidneys. That first day when we were alone, I hadn't even thought of having sex, but I had decided that today I would talk Helen into a bit of lovemaking. Following the logic of my previous night's musings, if defeated males always surrendered breeding rights, then just continuing to have sex was itself an act of defiance.

Unfortunately for my plan, as we separated from our captor, Pierre announced that fish would be on the menu that night and followed that with, "If you two want romance out in trees, feel free; I have no problem sharing your wife with you."

Once the bastard had given his permission, I no longer wanted to do it.

On the trail, searching for something neutral to say, I remarked, "Those deer kidneys were rather delicious; you should have tried one."

Helen couldn't suppress a smirk and said, "They weren't kidneys; they were the deer's testicles."

I felt a little nauseous but quelled that feeling thinking that there was more to it than that, so I asked, "And?"

My wife did not want to say, but after a pause, she admitted, "Pierre instructed me to give them to you; he said you needed the benefits more than he does."

"So I'm just a joke to you now, someone Pierre and you can whisper about." I turned around and headed back to the cabin. I thought I saw some movement ahead and wondered if he followed us. Helen tried to take my arm, and I shook her off and walked faster.

That small exchange soured the rest of the day for me, and when we reached the cabin, I went to the rock wall and began throwing rocks. I hit the water, skipping rocks across like I did when I was a child. Then for spite, I threw some up on the roof of the cabin. That night the fish pie was good, but I only ate a little before going to my room. I had to admit that the swine knew how to cook, but I wasn't going to pretend I liked him. Once more, I retired very early, but this time I intentionally didn't kiss her. I resolved to resist the temptation of the wall and had stayed in my bunk. After a couple of hours, I heard something that sounded like, 'Oh, Oh, OH.'

A short while later, the sounds were repeated over and over, but this time with an extended, 'Ooooooohhhhh' completing the set. And so it carried on with the volume and intensity of her cries increasing in magnitude, and it became very evident that Pierre was giving my wife a far more thorough fucking than I had ever managed to achieve. Despite the rage that this knowledge caused me, I found that I was sporting a raging erection, but as soon as I pictured them together, my erection disappeared.

I must have fallen asleep at some point because when I awoke, it was morning. Venturing out of my room, I found Helen cooking at the stove, making some flour and oatmeal scones on the hot plate, but she was alone this time. When I asked where Pierre was, she informed me he had gone for a swim. I went through the doorway, walking toward the pond, and as I stared out over the water, I could see bubbles coming to the surface about twenty yards away. I picked up two rocks and threw them high in the air, where they landed on either side of the bubbles. When the stones hit with a splash, Pierre flew from the water, sputtering like he got water in his lungs. I looked at him with a smirk and went back into the cabin.