Unbound And Snowbound Ch 01

Unbound and Snowbound

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September 1990, Near the Village of Frozenwolf, Alaska

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Master Angelo had driven us to a mining camp somewhere in the wilderness. The first three men that paid to screw me weren't too bad. They used condoms and finished quick. That was always good. The fourth one did me up the ass. He slapped my face a few times, then started to choke me. Those were the bad ones. You never knew if they were just playing to make it better for themself, or if they really wanted to kill you. Those always scared me. The fifth guy was actually nice. He wanted to 69 and was happy to lick me. After finishing in my mouth he said I was pretty and let me smoke a cigarette with him. I liked him.

I heard Master Angelo yell, "Come on Ass! Get out here! We have another camp to visit today!" He tied my hands and put me in the back of the van with the other girls. It wasn't too bad a day so far. I don't know how far we went before Master yelled, "Fucking Moose!" The van rocked from side to side a few times, then there was a terrible crash. All four of us were thrown forward into the back of the seats.

The other girls called out, "Master! Master! What's happening? Master! Are you OK Master?"

He was mean and hurt us a lot, but with no Master who would feed us? Who would take care of us! NOOO! We would starve and die! "Master! Please Master!"

After a little while it started to get cold. The other girls and I cuddled close together, trying to stay warm. Master wouldn't answer us, and we were getting really cold and worried. We started shivering.

After a very long time, the back door of the van swung open. A tall man with a big beard asked, "Is anybody hurt? Are you ok?" We were SO COLD!

There was a bright light all around his face! Was he God? an Angel? He moved to the side, and the sun blasted me in the eyes. He had been standing in front of the sun, but he WAS our guardian angel!

He helped us get out and untied our hands. I saw our Master was in the front seat of the van, dead! His chest was crushed in by a big piece of metal from the bridge! I cried. The other girls all cried when they saw too. Master Angelo was dead! We would all die! NOOO!

The man put us in his truck, warmed us up, and took us to a store in a small town. He gave us apples! Candy bars! Chips! We were really hungry and wanted to eat them so much! But Master Angelo didn't give them to us and we could never make him cum again. We could never eat again! We were doomed! We were going to die!

The man said, "Come on, eat. You're so skinny, you need some food. Eat." I had an idea! We could have a new Master! We could live! Since we couldn't eat until we give our Master his first climax of the day, we had to make our new Master come! We were SO HUNGRY!

"Master, please let me suck your cock! Please Master? Can I please blow you! We're so hungry! Please! We need to make you come! We're starving! Please!"

He gently pushed me away and said, "No."

We were begging to blow him for free and he didn't want us to! Was he crazy? Every day lots of men paid our old Master so we would do blowjobs. They all liked it a lot. The man was nice at first. He warmed us up and brought us there. I didn't understand why he didn't he want us to eat. Why was he being mean and not letting us suck him off?

The man reached up on a high shelf as he said, "These girls are crazy! I should call for some help."

Butt pulled his jeans down to his knees and I saw my chance. I slid his underwear down with one hand and popped his dick in my mouth with the other. I started to lick and suck as fast as I could. He said "No!" and tried to pull his pants up. Butt held his pants down and I got him hard. I only had to lick and suck for maybe a minute and he came! YES! I swallowed his cum and grabbed a chocolate bar. FOOD! I WAS SO HUNGRY!

I ate, and ate, and ate, until I couldn't eat any more. An apple! Corn chips! COOKIES! BBQ MOOSE SANDWICHES! The best food we had in YEARS!

He gave me a can of cola to wash it down. I laid on the floor next to him and cuddled up to his ankle. "Thank you Master! Thank you! I love you Master! You're so good to us! Thank you so much Master!"

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My name is Gary, but people call me Gator. They think I'm temperamental and grouchy. They're probably right. The four crazy girls in the store stockroom with me thought I was a God or something! They started every sentence with "Master"!

When I found them in the back of a crashed van, their hands were tied. They wore nothing but bikinis and sandals. It was close to freezing outside, and they were shivering from the cold. I untied them, herded them into my truck, and gave them a couple of blankets. Then I turned the heater on full blast to help them warm up.

When I got them to my store, I left the "Closed" sign in the front window. All of them were very thin, emaciated, really. I gave each of them a candy bar, a bag of chips, and an apple, but they wouldn't eat. They kept asking over and over "Can we give you a blowjob? Please? We're so hungry! Let us suck you off!"

I nuked some BBQ moose and made sandwiches for them. I kept giving them food, but they wouldn't eat it. They just put it down and loudly asked to give me a blowjob. I thought they were mentally ill, or something. I went to call for some help, and when I reached up to adjust the radio channel, one of them yanked my pants down. A second one had my cock in her mouth in about a second. I did say 'no' once, and I tried to pull my pants up, at least until it started to feel good. Before I could effectively resist, they had sucked my brain out through my dick.

After I came, the four of them ravenously ate any food I offered. They were like starving bears! They devoured the sandwiches, candy bars, apples, chips, carrots, cookies, and washed it down with milk and sodas. After eating two days' worth of food in about five minutes, they slept while I pondered what to do.

After a couple of hours, they woke up and insisted on sucking me off again, before eating even more. Finally, they were stuffed and sleeping again. They didn't talk much, but I got some basic information between them eating and raping me with their mouths.

The oldest girl was "Ass", tall and thin with shoulder-length medium brown hair and blue eyes. She was missing a tooth in front, but I thought that was kind of cute. She said she was 22 but looked a few years older than that. "Butt" was somewhat dark-skinned and said she was an orphan. She was of mixed races and her eyes and short, curly hair were dark brown. She was 20 and had bigger boobs than Ass, maybe "C" cup. All the girls' tits were soft and flabby though, they had lost a lot of weight being starved. The other two were only 19. "Pussy" was from a Mexican family in Arizona. Her dark hair came almost down to her waist. "Mouth" was short, thin, and cute, with brown eyes and long, curly, red hair. She said her father was mayor of a small town in Vermont, where she had been kidnapped.

The dead van driver was their 'Master', who kept them as slaves and rented them out for sex! He beat them a lot and hadn't fed them in two days. He made them sleep in cages! I was jealous of the bridge he crashed into. I wanted the chance to kill the sonofabitch myself!

I tried to think of somebody in the community who could take them in, but the only families I knew of with space for more than one extra person were me and old man Robertson. Old man Robertson is even creepier than me. He would take pictures of the kids in town and say he was getting pictures of birds as an excuse. He was seventy-something and lived alone. Three or four times a year a college-aged "niece" would visit him for a few days. It was always a different girl and once I saw the "niece" counting money as she left.

I know, I just admitted I'm creepy too. Why should I care what you think? I don't have the patience or frilly fanciness to win girls over the regular way. When I was desperate for sex and had some extra cash in Fairbanks, I paid for hookers maybe twice a year. I had a collection of porn magazines. I've also been known to stare at pretty females from time to time, and maybe whistle at them on occasion. But I never hurt anybody who wasn't trying to hurt me, and I don't screw kids. Two of the girls I found were only a little past 19, but if they yanked my pants off and begged to give me a blowjob I wasn't going to feel bad about it.

I figured I needed a couple of days to find a place for them to stay. I usually kept my store open about another two weeks, until mid-October, and shut down for the winter the first day it snowed. My customers depended on me, but this was important. I would close for two days to handle the situation and make Friday my last day of business for the season.

My first long-range radio call was to the most important person in my world, my grocery distributor, a bit over 200 miles away in Russet. "Yeah Al, I know I was planning on getting a supply run Monday, but I got a family emergency. I'm shutting down for the winter a little early. I'll talk to you again in April for my next order." He gave me a very nice response; "Ok Gator, ten-four." Most long conversations just waste time. I really liked Al.

I changed the radio channel and made my next call to the people of the community, the hundred and sixty-two souls that irritated and depended on me. Oh, I forgot, a hundred and sixty-three, Ivan and his wife had a baby last month. Except for some of the kids, I knew all of them by name. The four women I found raised that to a population of 167.

"All stations Frozenwolf, all stations Frozenwolf, this is Gary at the grocery store. I have some family business to handle. I'm closed today and tomorrow, and Friday will be the last day I'm open 'til April. I'll only be open from six am until noon Friday, so come get what you need while you can. Again, Friday from six until noon is the last day for groceries. The last of the fresh vegetables and fruit will be free, get 'em while you can. Pass the message along." I thought a moment and decided, since I'm in a good mood; "Sorry for the inconvenience. Stay safe." The stupid pricks out there might not deserve it, but what the hell.

I supplied their fuel, medicine, some clothing, part of their food, and most importantly, their ammunition. Including mine, there are exactly 20 two-way radios in the village, so probably 7 or 8 people heard me. Hopefully, they would pass the message along. I put a sign with the Friday hours on the door. There was maybe three or four hundred bucks of fruit and veg left, no point in just throwing it out if it didn't sell.

I figured if I didn't tell the authorities, this mess might become my fault somehow. I prepared to call the cops, or the closest thing we have. Not exactly legal, but one of my radios can get on the government services channel, for police, air ambulance, and such. I rarely used it, and only for real emergencies, so I didn't get in trouble. So far. I listened a few minutes, and nothing was going on.

"Gary calling PSO Billy, Gary calling PSO Billy, you there, Billy?" Public Safety Officer Billy was the law in these parts. He was a fully trained paramedic, and his main job was emergency medicine. He could also handle basic police work.

"Billy here, do you have an emergency Gator?"

"Uh, negative. I helped out four ladies who were in a car crash. None of them are seriously hurt. They don't have any family around here and need a place to stay. Should I take 'em to Coldsaw and turn 'em over to the state troopers or something?"

"Gator, I heard family services is really overloaded right now, no beds available. The jail and even the hospital are full too. You said none of them are hurt? Does it look like any of them have other health problems, fever, infection, or anything?"

"Negative"

"Are they giving you any trouble, any chance they might be dangerous?"

Two of them were laying on the floor, hugging my ankles. The third was sitting in front of me, resting her head on my knee and crying quietly. The last was curled in a ball, sleeping in the corner. They might suck me 'til I was dehydrated, but that's about it.

"Nope, I think I can handle 'em."

"Sorry but I have to ask. Do you plan on hurting or abusing any of them?"

Two of them had given me blowjobs earlier in the day, and the other two had tried. I was hardly abusing them if they ripped my pants off while I tried to resist.

"Negative, nothing like that."

"You own the grocery store there, so I assume you have plenty of food for the winter?"

"Yeah, of course."

"I've known you a long time, Gator. You're tough and crusty, but you're not a bad guy." Billy tells it like it is, like I do. "You're the best thing they've got Gator. I really hope you have room to take them in. There should be some spots open in the spring. Can you keep them until May? Nobody in Redaxe has room, and I really don't want to ask that Robertson guy."

Eight months! Blowjobs were absolutely a good thing, and if it kept them away from old man Robertson... "Ten-four, Billy. Can do."

"Great!"

"Billy, it probably won't matter until spring, but be aware, the van is sitting on the edge of the Blue River bridge, out on Lawrence road. The road is mostly clear. When I got the kids out of the van, their hands were tied. I think the driver was some kind of pimp or kidnapper, and he died in the crash. I have his wallet and ID. He looks Irish or something like that, with red hair, but his Arizona license says 'Angelo Rodriguez'."

I forgot to mention I had also taken the sawed-off shotgun and five grand in cash from under the driver's seat. I took the shells out and tossed his sawed-off in the river. I have my own twelve gauge and getting caught with an illegal gun isn't for me. Including me, maybe ten people ever drove on that road, mostly in the summer. I had left the dead pimp's body in the van. I obviously didn't kill him, a beam on the bridge had nearly cut him in half. I had pictures in my camera, just in case. I sarcastically thought, 'A dead pimp on a deserted road will be a high priority.'

"I'll go take a look at the van next week if I get a chance. Have a good winter, Gator!"

I was still in a decent mood, and Billy was a good guy. "Thanks, you too, Billy. Over and out." I can be nice sometimes.

Now what do I do with the girls all winter? My mind wandered to sexy, bad places.

I snapped myself out of it and thought about the store and the village a little, while the girls enjoyed their food coma. When they woke, I would get them clothes and the other things they needed.

I'm not a people person, but the store beat the hell out of my old job mining. I never wanted to be a grocer, but an uncle I barely knew left me the store in the village of Frozenwolf and a house fifteen miles away. He had a disagreement with a big predator and his rifle jammed. Another hunter found part of him two or three days later, and said it had to be a wolverine. Not even a bear can bite through a human femur.

It's not a petting zoo, people, it's Alaska! Any time I was farther than ten steps from my house I carried two pistols and a knife. When I went hunting, I'd add a rifle or shotgun. It's stupid not to, way out there. If you call for help out in the bush, even if anybody hears you on the radio, help might take ten days to get there.

Billy had a tough job, covering a ninety-mile radius by himself. He also covered the few small outposts far to the north, near the Arctic Ocean. He was on the north side of the mountain in Redaxe. In the ten years I knew him, Billy had saved the lives of at least eight people that I knew of, helped deliver at least twenty kids, and helped forty or fifty people with serious illness or injuries, including me. He was already in town for something else and splinted a couple of broken fingers for me two years ago, when I was cutting firewood and a log fell on my hand. Not like he saved my life or anything, but he did a better job and it probably hurt less than if I had to do it myself.

His whole law enforcement career so far was arresting a teenager who stole booze from my store before I inherited it and settling a land dispute. An old fence had rotted away, so nobody knew exactly where the property line was. The two neighbors both wanted to cut the trees near the border for firewood. Billy settled it by helping them make firewood, giving them each half, and helped them build a new fence where he thought the boundary might have been. They didn't want to pay thousands and wait months for a surveyor, and realized five or ten feet either way was no big deal.

One of his rescues was legendary. A woman Sandy had been surprised by a polar bear on the edge of the Arctic Ocean. As the bear jumped on her, her gun fell in the snow. She was terribly injured, but somehow at over 50 years old, she had killed the polar bear WITH A KNIFE! She called for help on the radio and laid there on the ice next to the dead bear for close to two days, until Billy could fly 200 miles there and help her. He circled over an hour in poor visibility, until he could find enough clear ground to land. He gave Sandy some intensive first aid to save her life and helped her into the plane. He barely had fuel to make it back. The next spring, Sandy was up and around again, back to work. I talked to her over the radio a couple times a year. Sandy was the toughest PERSON I knew, let alone the toughest woman. She was also pretty funny.

If there was a major emergency, Billy could get here in an hour or so with his plane, if the weather was good. If the weather was too bad to fly, it was a ten-hour trek around the mountains, going five or maybe even eight miles an hour on an off-road motorcycle. In winter, it would take half a day on a snow machine. I was glad there was a wind-powered radio repeater atop the mountain, so at least I could talk to him.

The closest phone is in the city of Coldsaw. It's ninety miles south as the crow flies, or a hundred and five on the bad gravel road between there and my store in Frozenwolf. Bah! Coldsaw a City! Six hundred or so fools, and they think it's a city! They did have a medical clinic with a nurse two days a week, and an astounding twelve places to spend your money. City! Hah! Frozenwolf is tiny, with only five roads and 43 families, but we're smart enough to know it's not a city! The closest actual city was Russet, with nearly two thousand people. It was another 120 miles away. Two more hours of driving would get you from Russet to Fairbanks if the weather was decent.

Everybody in the village caught their own fish and hunted their own meat, or traded for it. In this area people are allowed to barter with wild fish and meat they collect themselves. There was also a tacit understanding, if nobody went overboard and hunted or fished more than their limit, buying and selling was no big deal. Because of the prices, there would be no point to me stocking fish or meat at my store. Getting a pound of ground beef to Frozenwolf so I could sell it would cost me 15 bucks. I would need to sell it for 20 to make any profit. Moose or caribou meat was as good or better and cost the locals $10 a pound. I did get a weekly delivery of milk, vegetables, and fruit. I had to sell milk for 15 bucks a gallon, and oranges went for 6 dollars each. Two or three times a year I got a fuel delivery, gasoline $19 a gallon, and $22 for diesel. I have the only two gas pumps for 105 miles.

It was late September, and the snow would fly soon. Once it did, everything stopped until the thaw in April or May.

As I expected, Billy got time to check on the van crash in June. Wolves or a bear had gotten in. Billy only found a few chewed-on bones, and his whole investigation consisted of looking at my pictures and saying, "Yup, single vehicle accident." I put the van in neutral, he helped me push it off the road, and that was that.