Page 13 of Massive Size Lumberjack

But she doesn’t know that I’m an asshole with a debauched past. She doesn’t know that I have a shit ton of money. Gracie has no idea that I’ve left grown men crying on their knees, begging for mercy as I plunder their bank accounts. She’d hate me if she realized how many women I’ve fucked up the ass while forcing them to call me “Daddy.” Yeah, my brother chuckles and sometimes calls me the “Assassinator” because of it. Get it? Instead of “assassin,” I’m the “Assassinator.” It’s such a lame play on words, but that’s my twin for you: imbecilic and rude, with the humor of a fifteen year old boy.

But along the way, something in me has changed, and I’mscared. Fucking terrified, in fact, because this has never happened before. When I first met Grace, I figured I’d fuck the young woman for the time being, and then leave with no regrets. Sure, I’d tell my secretary to deliver a bauble to her cabin, something fancy and expensive. But now, I know that it could be the Koh-i-Noor diamond itself, and Gracie wouldn’t care. She doesn’t give a shit about things like jewelry, haute couture, or designer bags. Instead, my girl is the real thing, who wants me for who I am, even with my fucked-up thoughts and filthy ways in bed.

After all, the real me has been coming out more and more. I guess I couldn’t hide him away forever, and I’ve introduced nastiness into our horizontal play. Gracie’s learned to take massive dildos in her ass and pussy, and learned how to swallow my come without wasting a drop. She knows that I like to tie her up sometimes too, and I’ve even installed a bar in my cabin where she’s sometimes leashed and chained ... by the neck, as she crawls on all fours. Yeah, like I said, it’s fucked up. She’s my fuckpet, fuckdoll, and fucktoy all rolled into one.

Which is why I’ve been so petrified because the emotions in my chest are turbulent. They keep me up at night, tossing and turning as Grace sleeps the deep sleep of the sated beside me. I take in her voluptuous curves, wondering how they can appear so innocent and creamy, even after they’ve been fucked umpteen times in one night. What the hell? What the fuck is going on with me? I’m so fucked.

As a result, I’ve decided to come clean. It took me a long time to get to this point, but there’s no other way. Usually, I have no trouble living with conflict. Hell, it doesn’t bother me one bit and I sleep like a rock at night, knowing that I’ve destroyed liveswhile walking a dark path. But I can’t do this to Gracie. Hell, I can’t do it tomyselfbecause the internal turmoil is killing me from the inside out.

I stride up to Gracie’s cabin door, when suddenly, I realize something’s off. What the fuck? The sun’s shining as usual, and I only saw her this morning, when she got up from my bed. The blonde goddess pushed her curls from her face sleepily, and then literally jumped out from between the sheets.

“Oh my god, I forgot to fertilize my jade plant!” she cried in a panic, those blue eyes wide.

“Your jade plant?” I growled, watching with appreciation as her creamy curves bounced. Gracie was yanking a t-shirt over her head before struggling into a pair of hip-hugging jeans. “What’s that?”

She turned to look at me with a playful glare.

“You know I love my bonsai,” she groused. “And I just got this jade plant that’s so gorgeous. But I haven’t watered it in a week and it’s going to shrivel,” she said in a rush. “Okay, I gotta go! Bye, come by later!”

Then, with a quick kiss to my lips, the golden girl was out the door, darting down the mountain to her cabin. We’ve walked the path linking us together many times now, and although it’s a good forty-five hour of exercise, it’s a nice stroll that we savor together.

Fuck, you’re like an old married couple, the voice in my head groused as I rolled my huge form out of bed.It’s like you’ve been together thirty years.

But I kind of enjoy the thought, and with a smile on my face, I stretch, joints popping a little, before heading to the bathroom for a hot shower. Damn, Gracie’s cute but she’s also a handful. Don’t get me wrong because I put the curvy girl through her paces when we’re in bed, but she’s started doing the same to me and I’m sore in certain places.

Now, it’s mid-afternoon and I’m standing on my girl’s doorstep, one hand paused above the buzzer. Nothing seems out of place except the vibe is wrong. I can feel it. I turn to look over one shoulder and then step off the porch before walking to the side of the slope. That’s when I see it. Grace’s marijuana plants have been burned to the ground, and the field is now a smoldering mess. Charred lumps are all that remain, and I immediately rush back to the cabin.

“Gracie!” I shout, pounding on the door. “Open up!”

But there’s no sound, and against my better judgment, I throw my massive weight against the door. I practically fall on my face because actually, the front door was unlocked. What the fuck? Why didn’t she lock it? I get that no one comes around, but still, what happened?

Nothing seems out of place, but I know something’s wrong. There are dirty footsteps on the rug, and they definitely don’t belong to my woman. First, because they’re far too big. Those marks were made by men’s boots. Secondly, Gracie’s meticulous about keeping this place clean, and would never tromp dirt all over just because she’s in a rush to water her bonsai. No fucking way.

But the realization makes a cold shiver go down my spine because that means my girl is in trouble. Where is she? Whose footsteps are those? They must belong to Robbie or Jim becausewho else could have gotten in? Even worse, what do they want with my girl? She hasn’t heard from her family in weeks ... and now she’s disappeared.

7

Grace

Isob into my arms in the small, dark room. I didn’t know my brother and father were lying in wait at my cabin. I burst in, determined to water my bonsai, and was literally grabbed and hog-tied by the two men.

“Ouch!” I shrieked. “What are you doing?”

“What you deserve,” Robbie hissed, his blue eyes flinty cold. “You’re such a fucking slut.”

“No, I’m not!” I protested. “What are you talking about?”

My older brother merely glared at me, his facial tattoos almost bursting from his cheek.

“You’ve been fucking a man up the way for weeks now,” he rasps. “What, you think we didn’t know? Of course we know. There’s a homeless dude up there and you spread your legs for him like aslut. What a fucking ho,” he said with disgust. “Dad, I got her!” he calls. “Do your thing!”

That’s when Jimbo poked his head from around the doorframe, grizzled and missing a couple teeth.

“You got her bound?”

“Hell yeah,” my brother said, yanking the zip ties around my wrists so that they sliced into my flesh. “Gagged too.”

Then, he slipped a raggedy piece of cloth around my head before cramming the dirty fabric down my throat.

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