Logging

I'm studying for my Masters in Dendrology. As part of my research I had to go to the deep woods to conduct a study that my Professor thought would be 'A Meaningful Contribution To The Manner In Which Trees Interact With The Forest During Logging'.

As you may have gathered, my field trip would take me to a logging camp and its environs. My first port of call, naturally, was to the logging camp. I wanted to be able to assure them that I wasn't a wide-eyed greenie protesting their work, but a serious scientist who studied trees and the way they interact with the environment. Long term, my work could even help the loggers.

When I found the camp I was at the end of a dirt road, way up in the mountains. There were a number of cabins there and the place had that feel of permanence. It had been there quite a while and it expected to be there for a lot longer.

Properly managed, logging is a cyclic industry. This year you cut and replant at point A. Year by year you move around in a big circle until you're back at point A with mature trees ready for logging. Much like wheat farming, but on a much longer time scale.

I hopped out of my car, wondering where to go. No-one seemed to be around and none of the buildings had signs on them. I was about to go over to the nearest building and knock when this voice boomed out at me.

"What do you want, kid, and should you be driving daddy's car?"

I hate, loathe and detest being small. People look at me and knock five years off my age. That would be fine if I was thirty, but at twenty it's a pain in the ass.

I turned around and my first thought was that they were training grizzly bears to be loggers. This guy was enormous. He just stood there, looking arrogantly down at me, waiting for an answer.

"Good morning," I said, determinedly smiling. "I'm Marion Carrington. Your company has been notified that I'll be in the area doing a study. I've come past for a courtesy call and to see if there are any areas that you would like me to avoid right now. Is the manager available?"

"God, just what we need. A miniature greenie," the great oaf muttered. "Yeah, Joe's available. The last cabin over there. Just try to stay away from where we're actually doing the cutting, won't you?"

"I am not a greenie," I pointed out. "I'm studying dendrology. That's the study of trees, you know."

"So I've heard. Now go give Joe the benefit of your erudition. He's paid to handle nuisances. I'm not."

With that the big oaf just sauntered away, plainly dismissing me as beneath his notice. I headed off to the last cabin to see Joe.

Joe was leaning on the cabin door as I approached.

"You must be Marion, the research student. I was expecting someone older. I see you met Paul. Nice chap you'll find. If you need any help and I'm not available, speak to him."

"Yes and I am," I said. "That is, yes, I'm Marion, and I'm older than you think. Paul Bunyan there seemed as friendly as a grizzly."

"Doctor Paul Jenson, actually. He has doctorates in several soil and crop sciences, specialising in dendrology. He can probably help you with your research."

Great. Now I find out that I'd taken a cheap shot at the resident expert. My day was improving by leaps and bounds.

Joe showed me into his office and explained the rules of the logging camp. Summed up, they were don't trespass where we're actually logging and don't bother the loggers. That was fine by me. My research was to be on the trees left behind after the loggers had cleared an area.

Joe asked if I wanted one of the cabins, as they had a couple of empty ones, but I declined. I would be quite happy setting up a camp. I did reserve the right to change my mind if it started raining, but the forecast was fine for the next week.

I found a place to camp (recommended by Joe) and set up. Then I got down to some serious work. For the next two days everything went fine. I was making progress, not interfering with the loggers, and all was well. I was feeling pleased and proud with myself.

They say pride comes before a fall, and my fall came on the third day. I was being careful. Really I was. I knew to look out for the red flags that said don't enter here and I'd always observed them. That's why I was taken by surprise then a voice suddenly yelled "Fucking hell" and I heard someone running.

Something grabbed me around the waist and I was suddenly watching the woods moving past me at a great rate. I was tucked under someone's arm and they were moving elsewhere, and I was watching where I'd just been. And this whacking great tree came crashing down not ten paces from where I'd been standing.

I gave a sort of squeak as I knew there was no logging in the area so that tree shouldn't be there. Then to top of the shock I received a great indignity. I mean really, how dare he do that?

Whoever was carrying me had me tucked under one arm. He then used his other arm to suddenly peel my tracksuit pants down and he walloped my bottom. I mean, I still had panties on, but they weren't much of a protection from a huge paw coming down and slapping right across my bum. Just like that I had a hand shaped bruise on my bottom.

Then I was dumped on my feet.

It was that grizzly bear logger, Paul. Oh, I'm sorry. Doctor Paul.

"What do you think you're doing?" I screamed at him, pulling my trackies back into place.

"Getting your attention," he snarled. "Do you know what that means?"

'That' was a red flag. I don't know how I'd missed it. I must have been distracted by something and just gone straight past it and into a logging area.

"Ah, I'm sorry," I mumbled, red faced and feeling a fool. "I missed seeing it. I'll be more careful in future."

"You'd better be, kid," Paul snapped at me. "If I catch you in a logging area again I'll give you a proper spanking rather than a warning slap on the bottom."

Warning slap? He'd practically shaken my teeth loose when he'd unleased that blow. I could still feel every finger outlined on my bottom.

"You wouldn't dare and I'm not a kid," I snapped back at him.

He just laughed at me.

"Try me, but remember, it's your bottom. But I'll admit that it didn't look like a kid's bottom. Nice and round and eminently spankable. Now scram back where you belong. I've work to do."

With that he just strolled away, leaving me seething with dark and dangerous thoughts. It took me ages to cool down enough to get on with my work in a logical frame of mind.

The rest of the day I was busy and by five I was ready for a break. I was hot and sticky, hungry and thirsty and evening would soon be here. I headed back to camp.

Reaching my camp my first decision was to have a cold drink. After that I headed over to the pool down by the river. I could bathe there quite safely. Joe had told me that the loggers had been ordered to stay away from my camp and had guaranteed that I wouldn't be bothered.

I strolled down the hill to the pool, stripped and jumped in the water. It was freezing and wonderful. I washed and swam and had fun for a while, reluctant to leave the cool water even to go and make my dinner. However, it was getting late and I didn't want to find myself still here when night came so I hopped out of the pool.

I'd no sooner got out of the pool and was standing there in all my naked glory when one of the bushes at the side of the pool started shaking. So much for Joe's guarantee. I hate peeping toms.

I was reaching for my clothes when I saw this nice rock lying next to them. I almost laughed as I grabbed it. I then pitched that rock quite hard. I'm stronger and better coordinated than people realise. They look at me and see kid, but I am fully grown. I tossed that rock where it would do the most good. I bet it seemed to the peeping tom as though it had just come out of the sky at him.

Not a good day. I heard the rock hit something but, instead of a yell and a curse, I got a yelp and a roar. Then this frigging bear is standing up behind the damn bush, and it was huge. He stood up, held his front legs high and wide, and roared and I just screamed and took off running.

I'll tell you this. Put an angry bear behind an Olympic athlete and you watch her set all sorts of new records. I certainly set a new record for the women's hundred metres. I was charging into my camp in nothing flat, expecting to be eaten alive at any moment.

Bolting into camp I ran smack into the other bear. Paul was in the camp and he looked furious.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, chucking rocks at the bears?" he demanded. "Haven't you more sense than to tease the wildlife? That poor bear is probably still running and all he wanted was some dinner."

"I didn't know it was a bear," I yelled. "And as for dinner, it looked like he wanted me."

"He was picking berries and you come charging up naked and start pitching rocks. You've probably traumatized the poor creature. You can consider yourself lucky he didn't come after you."

I was glaring at him and he was glaring at me, and then I suddenly remembered I was naked. I blushed and from the appreciative look on Paul's face he also remembered. Actually, I don't suppose he forgot for one second, seeing I was standing starkers in front of him.

I knew Paul had decided to do something horrible to me when an evil smile came on his face. I was about to dive past him and into my tent when he caught hold of me. His great paws closed around my waist and he picked me up and drew me to him, holding me against his chest.

He held me effortlessly with one arm around me and I could feel his other arm fumbling down near my groin. Not touching me deliberately. Not yet, anyway. He was undoing his bloody zip.

Paul grabbed my bottom, a hand on each cheek, and held me firmly against him. I had to grab his shirt to stop myself falling backwards. Paul lowered me slightly and I could feel this hot tennis ball pressing against my pussy. Well, that's what it felt like. I knew what it really was.

"You wouldn't dare," I said in a real quiet voice.

For a reply he just pushed a bit harder against my lips and I could feel them stretching slightly and trying to part.

"Of course not," he said, and he seemed really amused. "I'm just thinking of you. You can't really go back down to the pool in bare feet to get your clothes so I'll carry you. If, as a way of saying thanks, you care to take advantage of me, I'll bear up bravely."

It took me a moment or two to work that out. His hands weren't exactly supporting me anymore, just holding me steady, and my own weight was pressing me down onto his erection. If I wasn't careful I'd very neatly skewer myself without Paul having to do a thing. And once I had Paul could say I wanted to and have his fun.

I flung my arms around his neck and tried to draw myself up and away from that damned erection. I didn't get far, but at least I wasn't sliding onto it any more.

"And if I don't take advantage of you?" I snapped.

"Then we'll shake hands and I'll leave you be."

With that Paul started down the hill to the pond. My first thought was that it was only a hundred metres or so and I could hold off that long. My second thought was a brief 'Oh, bloody hell'.

That second thought came with the first step Paul took. I didn't realise how much people bounce from foot to foot as they move and when Paul landed on his right foot a little bounce went through him and his cock said hullo, as it pressed harder against me.

I counted them. Ten measly steps and the head of his cock had eased its way past my lips and they'd closed around it. Or as Paul would probably claim, ten steps and I'd wriggled down over the head of his cock. After all, I was sinking onto it. It wasn't pushing up.

Paul must have been starting to think that my clutch around his neck was a death grip, I was hanging on so hard, trying to pull myself up off his blasted weapon. The trouble was for every little bit I gained I'd lose two little bits as Paul would come bouncing down with another step. I'll swear he was deliberately treading heavily. And to make it worse, his cock was becoming slippery.

I know what you're thinking. It wasn't Paul's cock that was becoming slippery but my passage, but who cares what you think. You weren't squatting on top of the slippery thing trying not to sink down.

I was starting to gasp now. Only with the effort of keeping myself free, I assure you. No other reason. We were halfway down and I was patting myself on the back, thinking I was going to make it, when we came to this stupid little ditch across the path.

Now it's only a little ditch. I have to make a small jump as I cross it but I'll swear that Paul could have stepped over it. There was absolutely no need for him to jump. But he did. And when he landed I just kept going down and his cock stayed where it was, resulting in me taking at least half of it in one thrust. ("Not my fault. You should have held on tighter.")

By this time I was starting to get seriously stretched down below. That cock of his felt humungous, and I couldn't climb up off it. Have you ever tried to climb a greased pole? That's what it felt like. I just gave a groan at this point and stopped trying to get off, settling for settling down on it at a reasonable rate. I was already getting fucked. Why bother to fight it?

Paul strolled on down to the pool and with each step I settled a little more firmly onto his cock. I wasn't quite fully on him when we reached the pool but as near as damn it.

Paul stopped next to my clothes and towel. I could feel him smirking down at me, but there was no way I was going to look him in the eye.

"Well, congratulations," he said. "We've reached the pool and you've managed to hold off. You didn't quite take full advantage of me. Relax your arms and I'll help you down."

Help me down? Help me bloody down? I'd ridden that damn pole of his all the way from the camp to the pool, feeling it slide up and down as he moved and he's offering to help me down? How kind.

Paul," I said, using a sweet and reasonable voice, "If you even try to take your damn cock out of me before you've fucked me senseless I will rip the fucking thing off and beat you to death with it."

"But," he pointed out, "I'm not fully in you and the deal was. . ."

I flexed my legs. Hard.

"OK," Paul conceded. "Maybe you are taking advantage of me after all."

Paul sank down to his knees and then tilted forward until I was flat on my back on my towel. He held me firmly pinned there, pulling my arms away from his neck and just leaning over me, his cock holding me fast.

I tried to push up against him. All that wriggling, trying to stop him sliding in, followed by more wriggling while I tried to control how fast he came in, had left me in a state of high excitement. I needed his cock moving in me, not just holding me nailed to the towel like a butterfly that had been pinned to a board.

Push up against him. What a laugh. The man was huge. I could no more move him than I could pick up a car. I was nailed until he decided the time was right to get moving.

He was laughing at me, too. He could feel me squirming under him and knew what I wanted.

"Console your soul with patience," he told me. "All good things come to those who wait."

With that he leaned forward and started sucking on my breasts. He teased one, leaving the nipple wet and stiff with longing, and changed to chewing on the other. He switched back and forth between them, his hand busy manipulating whichever breast he wasn't tasting.

And while this was going on I could feel this great rigid shaft filling me, making me squirm by its sheer presence inside me. I seemed to be full of cock and I wanted it to do what cocks do, and that was not just fill you and wait.

I was almost wailing before Paul got under way. He backed slowly out and returned, apparently just trying me out for size and making sure I was with him. With him? I was ahead of him, almost climbing his pole as it came back down.

A few more measuring strokes and, reassured, Paul got down to business. God, it was marvellous. He hammered down into me while I pushed frantically up against him. My excitement levels were high before he started moving but once he got going they went straight off the charts.

Paul absolutely plundered my poor body. His hands and mouth were everywhere, kissing and caressing and tasting and touching, while his cock conducted the orchestra, beating my body into willing submission.

I was screaming and pleading for relief long before it came. I seemed to be twisting and writhing under Paul for hours, wanting to climax but having to wait until he deemed it time. He pounded me hard and fast and then soothed my excitement with a gentle rocking motion, only to return to a ruthless pounding without warning.

When he finally came and let my climax loose upon me I just melted into nothing. I just seemed to be liquid, lying there in a blissful state, unable to move while hot flushes rampaged through my body.

It seemed ages before I pulled myself together again. At last I was back in the land of the living, but I didn't have the faintest idea of what to say or do. Fortunately, Paul did.

He stood up, reached down a hand, and pulled me to my feet.

"Back to your camp, I think," he said.

I was going to protest, suggesting a cool dip would be nice, but decided I could come back down after he'd gone. I was going to bend down and get my clothes when he took me by surprise again.

Without so much as a by your leave he grabbed me around the waist and hugged me to him. This time I could feel his cock pressing against me immediately, but I didn't have time to say yay, nay or otherwise before it was drilling up into me.

There was no pretence of my settling down onto Paul. His cock pushed up into me and his hands on my waist pushed me down onto him. Then, one arm around me, holding me in place, Paul reached down and scooped up my towel and clothes.

"What do you think you're playing at?" I demanded.

"Taking you back to your camp," Paul said, sounding as though it was the most reasonable thing in the world. "I brought you down so I should take you back."

Then he was striding back up to the camp and this time he made no bones about it. He was jogging and I was bouncing up and down on his cock with absolutely no control over it. And he didn't forget the ditch. I almost climaxed on the spot when he jumped over it.

When we reached my camp I expected him to flick the towel onto the ground and lay me back down on it while he finished off his fun. I underestimated him again.

I think I mentioned that Paul was a big man. A very big man. And strong. Very strong. Even his muscles had muscles. And I was rather on the small side.

When we reached the camp Paul stopped in front of the tent. He reached for my leg and lifted it high, pulling it across in front of him. He effectively rotated me on his cock. We finished up with Paul standing, me bent over, legs dangling, and him holding me around the waist. No problems if I was standing on the ground or leaning over a bed or something, while he took me, but I wasn't. I was just dangling in the air, held affixed to his cock by his hands around my waist.

Then he started taking me. His cock started sliding back and forth, really smacking into me. And I couldn't move. I couldn't push to meet his cock as it plundered my pussy. All I could do was wave my arms and legs and squeal while he ravished me. I'd never been so helpless.

The only advantage with what he was doing was that he didn't try to stall my having a climax. He just held me in the air while his cock plunged in and out, very rapidly driving me to a climax. And thank god for that climax. It gave me back a tiny bit of control as I could feel my internal muscles wrapping themselves around his cock and squeezing, and then the whole world came apart again.