Greenies

It's not greenies, as such, that I dislike. It's those idiots that seem to believe that their fanaticism excuses any sort of behaviour. Laws are meaningless because they shouldn't apply to people who despoil the environment.

And it seems to me that they have absolutely no concept of proper forest management and are blind to anything that might show them to be wrong. Would you believe that one of those bunches got some of what they called old growth forest protected from harvesting.

Twenty years later they were looking for beautiful forests to photograph for a new campaign. They found that their precious old growth protected forest was dying. Trees that could have been harvested were now all dying off. So they took photos of new growth forests that had been harvested and resewn, and claimed that those were what had protected. Lying swine.

In case you haven't guessed it, I'm a logger. I don't actually get out there with my little axe and chop trees down, but I am part of the industry. This particular day I was driving down an access road when I came around this bend and there were these three idiots chained across the road. Two men and a woman.

I pulled up and asked what the hell they thought they were doing.

It was the usual spiel. We were unrepentant degenerate despoilers of the forest and they were going to stop us.

"A forest is just a crop," I told them. "We reap the trees and resew. In twenty years we'll be back to reap the crop we sew today. Why don't you go and protest some farmer who's viciously clear-felling his field of wheat, putting a thousand mice and snakes out of their homes.

Or better yet, move to Queensland and protest the cane farmers. They actually set fire to their fields."

They insinuated that they didn't care about farmers or cane growers. They weren't despoiling the forest and putting cute little possums out of their homes. We were.

"I assume you have no keys," I said, nodding towards the padlocked chains.

"Deliberately didn't bring them with us, mate," said the oldest of the group. At thirty odd, you'd think that he'd have more sense.

I took out my mobile and rang base and explained the situation.

"You'll need to send someone up with bolt cutters," I told them. "May I humbly suggest that you send Curly Joe and his friend? Be warned that they'll probably have to do a search of these idiots first in case they have concealed keys."

I turned back to the greenies.

"It looks like it'll take a good half hour before the bolt cutters arrive and I'm stuck here until then. I'm sure you won't mind if I check to see if you've got the keys on you."

"You try and search me and I'll defend myself," snapped the leader. "I've got rights and you can't search me if I don't agree."

"About all you could do is kick me," I pointed out, "in which case I'd kick you back. You might like to look at the boots I'm wearing compared to your Nikes. Funny how it's always you that has rights, especially when you're busy denying other people theirs."

I checked out all his pockets, but no luck. He also took one look at my boots and decided not to kick me, though he did threaten to sue. A similar search on the second man had similar results. Now it was the woman's turn.

The woman was glaring at me as I approached her. She was young and quite pretty.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. "You don't even look old enough to drive."

"I'm nineteen," she said defensively, "and don't you dare touch me."

"Sorry, honey, but I have to check for the keys. I checked the men and it would be sexual discrimination if I don't search you, too. You're not sexist, are you?"

She gave me a furious look but kept her mouth shut.

I did quick search of her pockets and found nothing. Then I looked at her consideringly. She was wearing a zip up jacket that I'd unzipped already. Under it she had a button-up shirt and slacks, both of which had pockets.

"I assume you won't want me dipping my hands into your shirt pockets and finding I'm feeling your boobs. Right?"

She nodded.

"Fair enough."

I started undoing the buttons on her shirt.

"What are you doing?" she shrieked.

"Ah, undoing your shirt so I can move it away from your breasts and I can check it out, like you wanted."

"I didn't say undo it," she protested.

"Too late now," I pointed out, pulling it open. Nice breasts, nicely sitting on a lacy little bra. I bet she didn't really need it.

"Hmm. Excuse me," I said, reaching around and unhooking her bra.

All she could do was stare at me, mouth open in shock. I gently lifted her bra away from her breasts, winning my bet, by the way.

"Women have this tricky habit of hiding things in their bras," I explained.

I have to admit that at this stage I didn't hook her bra back on. Rather, I brushed both her shirt and bra off her shoulders, giving me a better view.

I started undoing her slacks and her protests started coming thick and fast. Her two mates joined in, threatening all sorts of legal repercussions.

Would you believe she actually did try to kick me when I slid her slacks and panties down? I didn't kick her back but I did give her a quick spank on her bottom as a warning.

"Now," I said, "I am going to do an internal search. May I suggest that you just relax and let it happen? It will go off much easier for both for us."

I started rubbing her mound, teasing her lips and generally massaging her. Her eyes were hot and furious.

"Just what do you think you're playing at?" she hissed quietly, apparently not wanting her friends to know exactly what I was doing.

"Just letting you get a little aroused," I murmured just as quietly. "If you're wet I can slide in more easily when I check you out."

She was red faced and angry but she didn't try to stop me. In fact she seemed relieved when I finally slipped my fingers between her lips and gently probed.

"Satisfied," she hissed at me, and then went slightly pale when she saw my smile.

"You wouldn't dare," she flatly stated.

"Actually, I would. You can consider it a deep search. Very deep."

I moved a little closer and she just knew how I'd be conducting the search.

"The boys will see," she said. "They'll tell. I'll tell. You won't get away with it."

"Well, if you do decide to tell I'll have to hope they don't catch me," I said.

My hands went around her and closed on her bottom and lifted her towards me. Her two mates had suddenly realised what was happening and were practically dancing up and down in fury. They hurled such violent curses upon me that I was surprised not to be blasted to cinders in an instant.

She wriggled and protested but there wasn't much she could do. I slid in neatly, going deep. (No key, by the way.) Before I started moving in earnest there was a question I just had to ask her.

"Um, your mates seem to think you're a virgin. Some of their recriminations seem to be directed at you for not letting them initiate you earlier."

"It's none of their damn business if I'm a virgin or not. We're politically the same side. Not friends. Take it out."

"No. Move with me."

I started moving back and forth inside her, and she did her best. The problem was that there was a discrepancy in sizes. I slid my hands around her bottom and lifted her higher.

"Wrap your legs around my waist. Then you can ride me better."

"I don't want to ride you better," she protested. "Take it out."

Maybe she didn't want to, but she did a fine job, flexing her legs and moving in time with me. She continued to make the occasional protest but her heart just wasn't in it.

I bounced her good and hard and she responded with reluctant enthusiasm. A contradiction in terms, I know, but that's the way it was. I had plenty of time before Curly Joe rolled up, so I settled down to using it.

She was breathing hard, and so was I, as we clashed. Not wanting to come too soon, I took a short break.

"Why have you stopped?" she whined. "You can't stop now."

"Sure I can. I'll continue after you tell me your name. I should have asked earlier."

"Christine. I'm Christine. Now, if you don't bloody mind!"

I didn't. I surged into her again, much to her relief. It didn't take long after our intermission and she threw back her head and yowled at the sky while I just groaned and cut loose.

Then I had to stand there, supporting her until she finally got it back together. When she was finally standing by herself I pulled her clothes back together and buttoned her up.

"Curly Joe and his mate will be here soon, and you don't need to be standing here flashing them," I told her.

She looked at me in sudden horror.

"Oh god. They're not going to touch me, are they?" she asked me, fear in her eyes.

"Don't worry," yelled the leader. "It's all good if they do. We can prosecute them, too."

That's the sort of compassion a true leader shows. I hastened to ease their minds.

"Don't worry. Curly Joe and his mate are gay. Really, really gay. They wouldn't think of touching a young lady. Mind you, they don't like greenies and you two gents are standing targets. I suggest, Christine, that you don't watch when they get here. It probably won't be pretty."

The two men took in this bit of information with dawning horror.

"They wouldn't dare," protested the older man.

I grinned.

"They used to log in Tassie, and your lot closed down most of the logging in the state. They had to shift interstate and live among strangers to get a decent job. They really don't like loggers. Good luck."

"Ah, I think we've made out protest," said the older man. "You'll find a key to the handcuffs, under that tree. I put it under a rock that's there."

Geez, that went down well with Christine. It was all very well and fine for her to get raped but not so fine when it came to them. My, she had a genius for expressing her displeasure.

"You can also sue them for sexual harassment," I said. "They could have saved you but preferred to see you get taken. Typical of that sort of person."

I crossed over to the indicated tree, looked down thoughtfully and came back.

"Um, sorry, boys, but it looks as though the bolt cutters will be needed after all. There's a brown snake curled up under that tree and you know what the browns are like. Or perhaps you don't. Basically, if you try to move one he'll go for you, and they're poisonous.

Don't let it worry you, though. I can hear the jeep coming."