Woodsman

I first need to thank the talented Candace Frazier for her editing skills. Without her help this tale would not have happened.

*****

He woke to the silence of the deep Michigan forest. The only sound that he detected was the occasional breeze wafting through the thick pine trees outside his window. The early spring morning still kept the temperature below freezing but in the last few days he could sense the death of winter and the awakening of spring. He wished once again for the warmth of the summer sun.

"I'm getting too old for these cold winters Onyx," he told his coal black cat once again. The pet was his only companion. The male feline had just appeared at his doorstep one day last summer and in the imperial way that cats have, immediately let his new slave know that he wasn't going anywhere. As most humans do he accepted the aloof attitude the four legged creature was prone to. Onyx from that day forward had been the ruler of his abode. Accepting no cuddling or petting he was the perfect pet for the man. The man had no desire to pet anyone human or animal. He wanted no contact with humans, male or female.

The man walked naked into his bathroom to drain last nights beer intake. He never drank to excess but he had finished and bottled his latest attempt at home brew and his previous attempt was ready for a taste test so he had to sample it. He had been more than satisfied with the recipe that he had developed but he thought that his next batch could be better. 'Maybe I'll try that new locally grown english hops in the next batch,' he mused while his bladder emptied.

The last few drops tinkled into the porcelain god and he shook his dick. His piss hard on had subsided when he removed his warm blanket but he still was semi erect so he stroked his dick a few times then turned his shower on for it to warm. While waiting he gave his stiffening manhood a bit more vigorous workout. By the time his shower was warm he was ready to paint the walls so he stepped into the steamy warmth and finished his masturbation with a gasp as he tried to hit the ceiling with his cum. He never got close but he tried often enough.

Finished with his morning routine he dressed for the day. His warm woolen shirt stretched over his huge chest. He tucked the shirt into the well worn blue jeans that fit his hips snugly. He never wore underwear so he was careful when he stuffed his manhood into the denim. His dick when hard was not huge, 7", but thick so he was careful when it came into contact with a zipper..

The women in town, young and old, had often looked at his package with a wandering eye but he ignored them all. He had no desire to bed any of them. He had exactly the life he wanted. Simple with no attachments.

His cabin had been built on a hillside in the northern forest with no neighbors within miles. He owned every square foot of forest for as far as he could see in any direction. One of his companies had purchased the plot from a failing lumber consortium that had considered it expendable. It was exactly what he wanted though. Tucked into an eastern corner of Michigan's upper peninsula, the plot was years from being a productive region again. The consortium had put it on the market with the hope of staying off bankruptcy. His offer was way below market value but with a desperate need for cash they had accepted the only offer that was put forth.

One of his construction companies, at his direction, had been tasked for the construction of the cabin on the site of an old logging camp. The road to the camp had been an old logging trail that had been the only source of ingress to the area.

No one in the small town had any idea where the man lived. Most didn't care. They had their own struggling lives to live. Most of the men were unemployed or worked day jobs for cash. Their women worked at the only jobs that were available, waitresses in the few restaurants, bars or some found employment in surrounding towns. A few, he was sure, were prostitutes. Life was hard here in these northern woods.

He went into his kitchen to start his coffee and glanced at his calendar.

1825 was noted under today's date. 1825 days since the day he and his attorney had served his ex wife with divorce papers. Five years since he had separated his life from the life sucking tedium of corporate america. The hours of traffic, the backstabbing assholes he had to deal with on a daily basis, the mind numbing business meetings. Everyone he had around him wanted something, their hands out expecting him to fill them.

That last day his soon to be ex had strutted confidently into his office for the last time. She was preceded by the strong scent of her expensive perfume and wearing the latest fashion, her high heels clicking on the floor with importance. She felt so empowered with his money backing her.

His money.

She would find out soon enough that she would be totally broke when the divorce was granted. His prenuptial agreement that she signed without reading had explicitly described what would happen if she gave her pussy to another man or woman. Oh yes, he knew that she was bisexual long before he had asked her to marry him.

He found out months before of her use of his condo in upscale Manhattan. The wild sex parties and drug use, the orgies and gangbangs that she had enjoyed. He now had hours of video of her sucking and fucking with abandon with men and women of all races. His PI firm was hand picked by him and they served him well in gathering the evidence. He knew everything about her life now. He even had a brief summary of the night she lost her virginity.

What she never knew, what he never let her know, was how rich he was. She couldn't have known how far his power could reach. His billions were scattered all over the globe.

He could, with one phone call or email have her disappear forever into the underground of the sex trade in a third world country. He could have made sure that she would be chained to a filthy bed covered only a with a stained mattress. He could have had her serving as a sex slave, lower than the slaves that worked in the diamond mines of Africa.

But he didn't.

He had loved her at one time. That was worth something. But his love was gone now. She had taken his love of her and smashed it under the 4" heels of her $3,000 shoes.

When she had stormed into his office that day she had done so at his request. His attorneys had prepared the documents but he wanted to look her in the eyes when she became aware of her future.

"Joyce I wanted to give these to you in person. I want you to know that for the past 20 years I have loved you with all that I have. I have given you everything you ever asked for and more. I gave you riches beyond your wildest imagination. Traveling to anyplace on this globe you may want to see. My love for you knew no bounds. But now that love has been sullied."

"There may have been a time that you loved me in that way also but I believe that time has past. I know of your sexcapedes in Manhatten and abroad. I know how you debase yourself in the bordellos in Sweden. I know how many cocks you have sucked. How many pussies you have eaten. How much you like the drugs while you debase yourself. For many of our years you were a good wife. I overlooked your early dalliances because my love also blinded me. I knew that an occasional indiscretion might be explained away by boredom or loneliness but I can't overlook your disrespecting me any longer."

"I have been generous with you in these documents. There will be no negotiations or bargaining. My prenup is ironclad. You will move into an apartment that I have purchased for you and is in your name. The belongings that you will need are being moved there as well, as we speak. You have nothing left in our home so don't go there to collect anything. Actually all of our homes and possessions have been disposed of as well. There is nothing left of your old life. You have a car waiting for you in the garage here that is yours to keep. You have no driver or limousine anymore. All of your living expenses have been taken care of for one year. After that you are on your own. Don't try to contact me ever in any way. You are dead to me from the moment I walk out of this room. Do you have any questions?"

She slowly slumped to the floor apparently in a faint. I had no compassion for her anymore so I turned to my attorney and said, "See that she signs all the documents when she wakes and before she leaves. Make sure that everything is carried out per my instructions."

I looked at her briefly one last time and walked out of my former life forever.

The memories of that day briefly ran through my head. I walked out of my former office and took a cab to a cheap hotel room I had rented. My security team had been reassigned to other company officials. I was alone for the first time in years. But I felt I was prepared for what I had planned. I changed into everyday street clothes and grabbed a small backpack that had a change of clothes, my new id, and any paperwork I would need to pass myself off as Robert McCoy, and enough cash to support me for several months. I was never going to put a suit or tie on again.

I was going underground while my new home was being readied so I had to begin my exit from the corporate world I had once mastered.

I wasn't worried about my fortune. The many corporations and businesses I owned had been put into several private trusts that had been setup to continue my empire seamlessly. Actually the trusts had been managing everything for months and had performed handsomely. I had put more money than I would ever need into several investment accounts in different countries accessible only by me by the internet. I could move millions if so desired by the click of a mouse.

My nondescript clothing and obvious lack of any of the trappings of wealth hopefully would allow me to travel anonymously whenever I was ready so I turned my cell phone off and took a cab to the nearest amtrak station where I purchased a ticket to a small city in southern Virginia.

Arriving late in the afternoon I got a ride with a fellow passenger that I had met into the center of town. Handing him $20.00 and thanking him for the trouble I walked 4 blocks to a garage on an empty lot. I had the key for the door so I went into the garage. There was my ticket to anonymity, a five year old cummins dodge ram pick up.

I had purchased it months ago and had it serviced completely with new fluids, belts, hoses, tires, batteries, even the wipers were new. The registration was in my new name as was the insurance. Opening the garage door I fired the powerful cummins engine. Easing the truck out of the garage I threw the key onto the floor and closed the door. The owner would be happy to get his garage back and probably would laugh with his buddies at the insane amount of money the stupid yankee paid him to keep his truck there for only a few months.

Now I had many options as to directions but I already knew my route. I double checked my directions and headed out of town.

The south is an interesting part of the country. Dotted with small towns with farmers bazaars and flea markets. Perfect to lose oneself in. My new truck was a nondescript color, I always stayed below the speed limits and stopped often. For a month I poked around the small towns in several southern states, slowly zigzagging my way west then north, stopping at small non corporate motels paying cash for my rooms.

The first few weeks I would read about how the billionaire Eric Fleming, as I had once been known as, had disappeared. My clothes had been found in the apartment where I had changed out of my suit and foul play had been suspected. My ex was under investigation because of the divorce but no evidence had been found linking her to me after my departure from my office. I smiled once when I read in a popular gossip column of how far my ex had fallen. Comparatively speaking she was destitute. I wondered to myself if she thought all the drugs and sex she enjoyed had been worth the price she paid.

I was in northern Indiana taking a tour of the Notre Dame campus when I got a message on my facebook page that I had set up in the name of 'woodsman' that my little cabin had been completed and was ready for occupancy. When the tour ended I collected some brochures on the college and started north once again. I was only a few miles from the Michigan state line but many hours from my goal. Not wanting to interrupt any last minute clean up or detail crews I took my time going north. The cabin would stay where it was so I was in no hurry.

I stopped three days later in Sault St. Marie at a small bank that I owned. Using a key I had I opened a safe deposit box and retrieved the keys to my new home. Also in the box was a new registration, insurance and Michigan license plate. Everything was in the name of Robert McCoy. I put the new plate on my truck and threw the old one along with my old cell phone into a dumpster at a construction site. As much as possible I wanted to blend with the locals and would have no further use for my old phone. I would stop at an electronics store somewhere and purchase a burner phone and a sat phone for any important calls.

I took the rest of the day to find the cabin and settle in. It was everything I wanted. As noted it was inside a huge forest. The driveway was gravel and was over two miles long. The noise of a vehicle traveling the gravel would be heard long before anyone could approach the cabin so I had forgone a security system with the idea that isolation would be security enough.

The utilities had been buried from the main highway to the underground service connection near the main house. The local cable company had been blessed with a huge grant to provide every resident with the highest speed internet available. The local gas company had recently been directed by its board to upgrade all residents in its area with natural gas. All these had been routed underground to my home.

There was a three car heated garage with a workshop that would be used for my amateur brewery hobby. Separate but close to the house was a woodshed that would be my means of exercise. Splitting wood is an excellent workout for the upper body. I had thousands of acres for walking trails to keep my legs toned.

The 'cabin' as I liked to describe it was more a house. A huge house for the area. 6,500 sq. ft. Its outer walls built of old growth white pine logs made it not mansion size but there was more than I could ever need. Inside were the latest kitchen appliances, a sunroom with southern exposure a massive fireplace with native stone veneer occupied the great room.

The 5 bedrooms had their own ensuite bathrooms. I had sourced locally produced furniture for all my needs.

I had an office complete with every appliance I may ever need. Top of the line computers, printer, fax, whatever I may need.

The kitchen work table alone was from a 300 year old 8' round slab of white pine purchased from an estate sale. The walls of the main floor were of native stone.

It was a nice cabin.

All these memories flashed through my mind as I poured my morning coffee. Waiting for it to cool I planned my day. With my last batch of homebrew completed I would combine a trip into town to deliver my product to the local bars and pick up any supplies I may need. There was a sudden interest in local breweries in our area but I was just a drop in a growing bucket. So I loaded my delivery in the back of my truck and grabbed my shopping list of supplies I needed and headed to town.

My deliveries were unloaded and I chatted briefly with some locals before I excused myself so that I could complete my tasks for the day. I stopped at the post office to load up various packages and supplies that I had ordered and proceeded to a local brew shop for some locally grown hops. I had missed eating out so I sat at one of the local restaurants and ordered a meal that I didn't have to cook.

Tipping well I walked out into the afternoon sun. It would be almost dark by the time I got home. Well after dark by the time I had unloaded and put everything in its place

All in all I had been gone most of the day and I would be happy to relax, check my email and possibly have a beer.

Home again I parked and unloaded.

It was well into the night when I finished.

When I entered my kitchen I noticed some things that were out of place. A bachelor such as myself has ways of doing things and placing things as a matter of habit. I was sort of anal as to my neatness. The kitchen bread box had been left open. There were crumbs on the counter. Somebody had entered my home and eaten in my kitchen. They may or may not still be here.

I grabbed a big kitchen knife and slowly moved to my office and opened my gun safe. I had several handguns, a target rifle, a pump shotgun, and a few scoped long hunting rifles. I removed and loaded a glock g30 handgun. The .45 cal.semi automatic would stop most animals and any human so I felt confident. Now it was time to clear my home of intruders.

I knew that help would be 30-60 minutes away at a minimum so I was on my own. I had never considered nor planned for an intruder so I had no idea where they would likely be.

My present position was at the east end of my home so my plan was to clear the main floor first then move upstairs to the bedrooms. Having a plan calmed my nerves somewhat but I knew the adrenalin was still pumping. I had never been in a confrontation involving weapons. I didn't know if I could actually shoot another man.

The main floor was very open so it only took a few minutes to clear. I had heard nothing so whoever was here was either hiding or long gone. I knew I had to be sure so I crept upstairs being thankful of the solid steps. No sound did I make, I think.

The first room I came to was a guest bedroom. Entering I quickly moved to the bathroom.

Clear.

Moving to the second bedroom produced the same results, as did the hall closet.

As I entered the master suite I hit paydirt. But not what or should I say who I was expecting. There was a young girl lying on my bed. She looked to be maybe 13-14 but I am not a very good judge of young girls ages. She was curled up into a ball and covered up with an afghan I kept on the settee in the room. She was facing me as I entered the room and she didn't move. I quietly checked the bathroom and found a knapsack, a man's wool hunting jacket, some ragged clothes and a pair of worn hiking boots.

I was certainly baffled by my discovery. The shower still had a few water drops on the walls but the floor was dry. There was a damp towel in the hamper so at least she was neat. I picked her clothes up and went through the pockets. There was some twine, a pocket knife, and what appeared to be one of those fire making steels. On her belt there was a medium sized hunting knife. Her top was an old New York Giants jersey, sized medium. Her boots looked fairly new but very scuffed.

The jacket pockets contained a pair of brown cotton work gloves and a small waterproof tin with some matches in it.

The knapsack was next. There was a small but very sharp hatchet, a sharpening stone, more twine, a small coil of fishing line with a hook, and a sheet of brown plastic about 4 ft. square. A box of energy bars and what appeared to be dried meat. That was about it.

I carefully put everything back into the knapsack while I thought of what to do. My mind was blank. I was expecting a robber or worse. I put my pistol in my waistband and tiptoed into the bedroom to take a better look at my 'intruder'.

She had long auburn red matted hair. Cute freckled face with a button nose. Her face looked weathered but not really tanned. I couldn't tell what else she looked like because she was covered but I suspect that she was naked under the afghan. I could just see the hint of a bare shoulder.