Yukon

"Maybe but I'm sure he has done this before."

My wife fell silent, no doubt contemplating what lay ahead but I had not yet abandoned hopes of finding some way out of the situation. I first looked towards the long narrow window with the idea of us climbing out to hide in the forest and possibly finding something to use as a weapon to use against him. Unfortunately for that idea the window was heavily barred, no doubt to protect against marauding bears.

The only other alternative was to barricade the door against him but only two items of furniture were suitable, the bed itself and a large dresser come wardrobe. Both were monumental wooden items of basic rustic design and looked incredibly heavy. I could imagine that Pierre was capable of manhandling them relatively easily but I knew that the combined efforts of Helen and myself would be able to move them only slowly. Long before we managed to block the door Pierre would have come in attracted by the noise. And even had we succeeded there was no point for our captor would only need to wait until hunger or thirst inevitably drove us out.

"So I face a fate worse than death," Helen said suddenly, sounding less distressed than I felt. I think I mumbled something and she continued, "It's not the end of the world you know, it's certainly not worth getting killed over. You did right not to provoke him too much."

Quite unexpectedly tears began streaming down my face and I stood helplessly overcome by emotion. In an instant Helen was out of bed with her arms wrapped round me. She pulled me to the side of the bed and we sat for a long time in a tight embrace, during which I became increasingly aware of heat from her body radiating through the thin material of the nightdress.

After a time she said quietly, "You mustn't worry about me. Female bodies are designed for sex. Remember, he's not going to do anything to me that hasn't been done before."

"But it's going to ruin everything."

"No it isn't, Helen insisted, "When we are safely back home, all this will disappear into the past and we can forget all about it."

"He might fuck you all month and then still kill us both," I said, directly naming the act for the first time.

"No he won't," my wife said confidently. "I know his sort. He wants sex and he's dangerous until he gets it but keep him happy and he's controllable."

I started to say something but my wife told me that I better leave. "Aren't you going to put some clothes on," I asked, very aware of her near nakedness.

"What's the point if I'm just going to take them off again?"

At that moment the door swung open to reveal Pierre standing on the threshold. "Times up," he said quite pleasantly.

"Please give him a couple more minutes to grab his things," my wife asked. Pierre stepped inside the room but seemed happy to acquiesce to the request.

I hastily picked up some personal items and made my exit leaving Pierre in the room with her. Ignominiously I made my way to my new quarters with Helen's words, "I'll be all right," ringing in my ears.

Alone in the narrow bunk room I felt numb and I felt empty but at the same time I was bursting with impotent rage. The only small remnant of pride left to me was that I managed to resist the urge to break down and cry. After some effort, I managed to achieve a state of resignation but soon morbid curiosity drew me to press my ear against the wall separating me from the other bedroom. I could hear nothing but was unsure whether to feel relieved or disappointed. Over the next two hours I made frequent visits back to the wall without gaining any clue as to the fate of my wife. Eventually, while reclining on the bunk I fell asleep.

I first drifted back to consciousness in what must have been the early hours of the morning but the constant light outside made it difficult to tell. For a few blissful moments I did not remember what had happened and it was not until I lazily reached out for Helen that the grim reality came back to me, of where I was and why I was there. It was a harsh truth to face so, as I had sufficient tendrils of sleep still in my brain, I sought refuge in further oblivion.

I woke with a tune running through my head but then realised that the sound was actually coming from beyond the room I was in. After dressing I went to investigate but, as I opened the door to the living room, my nostrils were pleasantly assailed by the mouth-watering smell of bacon cooking. Pierre was standing in front of the iron stove, whistling cheerfully as he fried eggs, bacon and sausages in a large skillet on the hot plate.

An unknowing observer would have seen a friendly obliging type, cheerfully providing sustenance 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, both for last night and for many nights to come. It was perverse, it was unfair but all the same, I suddenly realised that I was ravenously hungry.

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

The jovial figure he now presented was in stark contrast to the taciturn threatening individual of before. Even through my hatred I could see that when his evil side was not in evidence he would be perceived as a welcome addition to many groups. Loathe though I was to receive anything from the man's hand I accepted the proffered plate of victuals 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 kind of plans do you to have 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 have done if I hadn't turned up? I don't want to interfere," Pierre told her. "I'll be away most of the day finding some meat for the table so what you do is inconsequential to me. I do need fresh meat and the rations you brought with you don't cater for three."

My wife informed him that we would be taking a hike and nothing more was said. I was hoping we would be left in possession of the cabin so we delayed while putting on our hiking boots and inclement weather gear, hoping he would leave. 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 fifteen minutes. For the first time since I left Helen alone in the bedroom with him we were free to talk but apparently 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.

In the end I said tentatively, "Last night..."

"I don't want to talk about it," Helen said quickly.

That effectively blocked me off completely 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 I was going to be brutally raped but he was surprisingly gentle with me 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,"

"How 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."

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 saying firmly, "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 and our mood lightened. In fact by the time we had put some miles between us and our captor, the pleasant weather, the picnic and finding plenty to photograph made the day quite enjoyable. It was only when starting the return journey that despondency began to overwhelm me again. The difference between my wife and I was that where my footsteps tended to drag, Helen strode out purposefully, as if seeing no purpose in delaying what lay ahead.

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 was needed after a long day that was both physically and emotionally tiring. Helen and I cleared away 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 whittling a large lump of wood with his hunting knife.

I was unable to concentrate on anything and after an hour of inactivity I announced that I was turning in and went to the bunk room. It was only when it was too late that I realised I should have at least gone through the motions of kissing my wife goodnight. As it was it seemed that I had meekly accepted my new place in the scheme of things but I had only left because I could not bear the thought of seeing Helen and Pierre walking into the other bedroom together. I knew that there was quite a while before I could hope to escape in sleep so there was nothing else to do but think.

My situation was unusual now but in the time of our ancient ancestors it was probably the norm. Most current species of ape have a system of a single alpha male who has breeding rights over a harem comprising all available females while all other males in the tribe cluster together as a bachelor group. It is highly likely that early hominids 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. In zoos, for bloodline and genetic diversity reasons, they create this situation artificially by introducing a new potent male into an established group. In the times I have seen it happen on film 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 ponder if there was any lesson to be learned from this.

Once more I made compulsive visits to listen at the wall but again heard nothing. I hopefully surmised that they were not making much noise but the more realistic explanation was that the heavy pine logs comprising the intervening wall were not designed for the transmission of sound. Sleep eventually overtook me in much the same way as the previous night.

Next morning it was Helen on breakfast duty but we couldn't talk as Pierre was sitting in a chair again working on his fishing lures. The meal was lightly fried thin 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 was going to 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, after announcing that fish would be on the menu that night, Pierre told us, "It you two want to get romantic out in the trees feel free, it's no skin off my nose." 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 quickly suppressed a smirk and said, "They weren't kidneys, they were the deer's testicles."

I felt that there was more to it than that so I said, "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."

That small exchange soured the day for me and as a consequence I enjoyed it far less. That night the fish pie was good, (I had to admit that the swine knew how to cook) and the evening passed quietly as before. Once more I retired very early but this time I remembered to kiss Helen goodnight, rather loudly telling her that I loved her and having the pleasure of hearing her say the words in return. I had resolved to resist the temptation of the wall and had stayed determinedly in my bunk for a couple of hours when I clearly a something that sounded like, 'Oh, Oh ,OH'

A short while later it was repeated and then again 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 and this only added a sense of bitter shame to my woes.

I must have fallen asleep at some point because I suddenly found it was morning. Venturing out of the bunk room I found Helen again at the stove, making some flat, flour and oatmeal scones on the hot plate, but this time she was alone. Pierre had gone for a swim she informed me. This was the first time we had been alone in the cabin since the interloper first appeared but I had an urgent task that took priority over talking.

When I helped Pierre to carry his kayak away from the water I had noticed that his paddle was safely stowed inside. If my only plan for escape was to be realised it had to be still there or else there would be no way of propelling the small craft. Leaving the cabin I saw no sign of Pierre anywhere in sight so I made a beeline for the Kayak. However, when I was barely ten feet from my goal, Pierre rose up out of the water a mere stones throw away. Although the air temperature was pleasantly warm and could even feel hot away from the wind, I knew that the water remained barely a degree or two above freezing. It was amazing that the man could immerse himself with such impunity.

I immediately altered my angle hoping to make it appear that I was simply walking past the boat. My adversary was not fooled. "The paddle is well hidden if that's what you're looking for. You didn't seriously believe I'd be that careless, did you?" he called out contemptuously.

Determined to stick to my story of a pre breakfast stroll, I held my ground as Pierre approached. He was barefooted and completely naked, revealing that he was deeply tanned with his skin having a look of leather. He bore the scars of multiple injuries and other damage may have been hidden beneath the masses of shaggy black hair that hung in clumps from his torso and belly. I could now see the reason for his wide legged stance. His thighs were unusually thick and gnarled like tree trunks and hanging between was the most obscenely large uncut penis it is possible to imagine. I remembered seeing a similar image in a fantasy bestiary when the illustration was captioned 'Troll'.

I could now easily understand the reason for all the orgasms I had overheard but this increased my sense of hurt rather than lessened it. Consequently I had not been walking alone with Helen for many minutes before I said accusingly, "I heard you last night."

I saw wife tense defensively. "He made me cum," she said simply without elaboration.

"A whole load of times."

"So!!! He's got a very large penis and something that size is bound to create sensations whether a woman wants them or not. Was I meant to resist them? Is there any rule that says I can't allow myself to enjoy it? If I struggled so he had to rape me every time, would that make you feel any better? Sweetheart, we agreed that we had to make the best of things and that is all I'm doing."

I felt suitably humbled but at the same time this established my concrete resolve that we had to escape the monsters clutches before my wife fell much further under his spell. The kayak was a lost cause so it had to be the far inferior Plan B, getting away from him on foot. This in turn meant carrying sufficient food to sustain us until we reached civilisation and that was not going to be easy. Pierre never actually searched our back packs but he certainly took note of what we put in and I noticed him unnecessarily lifting and moving them, no doubt testing the weight. This meant that we had to smuggle out one or two items at a time and build up a cache away from the cabin.

I did not mention my escape plan to Helen because she was very much against taking any form of risk but if we stayed, the month was likely to prove far less onerous for her than it would for me. We did not travel far and on the return journey I called a halt about a mile from the cabin. There I sorted through our backpacks removing items that had not yet been opened. I selected a tin of peaches and one of salmon and added the jar of honey we had taken to eat on the scones. Finally I unscrewed the gas canister from the small cooking stove even though it was a new refill that morning. These four items I hid where they were unlikely to be disturbed by scavengers.

The passionate sounds from next door made that night another noisy one and again I found myself getting painfully aroused. There was a definite temptation but I resolved not to masturbate, either then or for the duration of the nightmare. Next morning when preparing for the day I managed to slip an extra item in each pack, a tin of corned beef and another of stewed steak. I very much wished not to get at odds with my wife again, so when I remarked, "You were busy again last night," I kept my voice cheerful and free of reproach.

Helen answered in kind saying simply, "The man's insatiable."

No other reference was made and we walked on feeling relaxed. I chose a particular pleasant picnic spot and after eating, while sitting enjoying the view, I started my amorous moves. After unsatisfied long lasting erections on two nights I was desperately in need of release. To my great surprise and shock, Helen knocked me back. Frustration turned to anger as I accused, "So now we know the truth, you enjoy being fucked by him so much that you can't bear me to touch you anymore."

There were tears in my wife's eyes as she said, "It's not that at all. I wish so much that I could make love to you but I've been thinking ahead and it's not worth it because I'm almost certainly going to end up pregnant before this month is over. You know I'm very much against abortion but if I'm sure that the child is Pierre's I'll get rid of it like a shot. Darling if there is even the slightest chance that it might be yours it will be a much more difficult decision."





Reluctantly I accepted my wife's logic and resigned myself to further celibacy but during the rest of the hike, I consoled myself by calculating how many more days of surreptitious purloining would be needed before I had a hoard of sufficient size for us to flee. That night it was as if Pierre was demonstrating that my wife was giving him what she had denied me and giving it a prodigious number of times. Now there were cries of "Yess," mixed in with the Oh's and Oooh's and at times she sounded almost out of her mind with pleasure.