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by cash
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · History · #1524129
This is a fictional story of the removal of white pine logs in Northern Ontario, Canada


CHAPTER 1



FRAN’S SEDUCTION







Abner was sleeping soundly in the loft above the kitchen, when pounding on the door of



the log cabin woke him.  He heard his Mother rise, from a cot below him.  The woman lit the lamp on the table before opening the slab pine door.  Framed in the door, was a 6-foot man with long black hair showing under his toque. He had blue eyes and large shoulders.  It was Mr. Trumbull, the camp boss.

Trumbull saw a young half- breed woman; about 5ft. 7inches tall, long black hair; brown eyes and a slim build with ample breasts.  The light from the lamp on the table shone through her thin nightwear. She might have been standing naked for the entire world to see.

The camp boss asked if he could come in. “Mrs. Killworthy” he said, as he entered the tiny cabin, “there has been an accident.  A widow maker has killed Amos; it crushed his head earlier today.”

He informed the grieving widow that, “her husband’s personals and pay would be forthcoming.  If she wanted, he would make arrangements to have his body brought to her or, he would bury him at the logging camp.”

He told the widow, “Amos had $2.10 coming to him for wages owed.  There had been more, but Amos had purchased socks, gloves, boots and a shirt from the camp store, and the debt was outstanding.  If she wished, he would attempt to sell the property to other loggers, but would not gain much in the sale.  Think about what you want to do Mrs. Killworthy, I will return in 2 days to see what you have decided.”

Francis began to sob, broke out into a wailing cry, and collapsed onto the cabin floor.  Trumbull exited quickly through the cabin door as he made his way through the cold December night.

Abner, a slight built boy with fair hair and the white skin of his father, but brown eyes of his mother, quickly scrambled down the ladder.  He lay on the floor beside his mother, and wrapped her in his 9-year-old arms.  Together they grieved the loss of Amos, husband and father to them.  He was their only means of income and had been a good man of even temper and neither of the two had ever seen him angry.  They stayed on the floor crying and sobbing until the sun came up and started shinning through the oil-covered paper that covered the only window.  The filtered sun shone on Fran’s face.  She stopped crying, stood up, and reached down to pull Abner to his feet.

“Amos is gone, we grieve no more.  Our thoughts now must be on our own survival and life with out your father.  Your childhood is over from this moment on.  You are now a man.  There is no work for a woman here.  I will arrange with Mr. Trumbull for you to go to the bush to take the empty spot that your father’s death has caused.  Now dry your tears, grown men do not cry.  Go and bring me some ice and I will get a meal started.”

She bent and picked up some dry pine cuttings put them into the pot-bellied stove, the embers that were still smouldering from last night.  The fire caught quickly as Fran adjusted the draught on the stove.  As the flames licked hungrily at the pine, she added hard wood she stood and watched the flame, thoughts in her head started to deal with her family’s future and how she would make sure Trumbull would take Abner to the bush.  Closing the lid of the stove she reached for the oatmeal, this was their only food.  Abner came in with the ice and she placed it in the pot and while waiting for the ice to melt, thought about her plan to snare Trumbull.  Smiling, she thought, “I will make enough porridge to do our supper tonight.”  She added more ice, put in a pinch of salt, and began her day.

As promised, Clifford Trumbull returned in 2 days time.  Fran had sent her young son to the river to cut ice blocks and told him not to come back until dark to fill the sleigh full.  Abner had gathered the saw, axe, and tongs placed them on the sleigh and he started to the river to cut enough ice that would supply his mother with water for a long time.

Fran invited Trumbull into the small cabin and offered him a cup of tea.

Fran said, “I have been thinking about what I should do now that Amos is no longer with us.  Amos’ body is to be buried under the pine stump that took his life, and his personals be given to Abner.  I want you to take my son to the woods to take my husband’s place.”

Big Clifford Trumbull said, “A young boy of 9 years could not do the work of a man.  A qualified logger is on his way right now to the camp to fill Amos’ spot.”

Fran poured the tea into the only cup she owned and  slid it across the rough tabletop. The cup hit a seam on the table boards, and splashed onto the Bull’s hand.  With a loud curse, the burly man sprang to his feet, bumping the table as he rose.  The cup spilled and crashed to the stone floor where Fran’s only cup lay in pieces.  The young girl broke out sobbing, fell to the floor, and began to cry loudly.  The Bull reached down and lifted the girl to her feet.  He apologized for destroying the cup.  Clifford drew her close to attempt to comfort her.  The long sobs continued and the burley man started to wipe away the tears that were now being soaked into his shirt.  He brushed back the long black hair that was becoming wet from the tears.  Fran continued to embrace herself against his chest.

The big man began kissing her tears away from her cheek.

Fran turned her head up and to the side and their lips gently brushed.  The small kiss that appeared to be an accident overwhelmed the man.  He pulled her in, sought and found her lips, and kissed her long and hard.  To his surprise, Fran responded to his embrace and returned his kiss with strong desire.  Clifford began to fondle her breasts and soon she was answering his fondling with touches of her own.  They began tugging at each other’s clothing.  The Bull quickly picked up Fran off her feet and placed her on the cot. She began to remove her smock and he took his boots off, removed his clothing, and dropped onto the cot covering the young woman.  He had a large erection, which he attempted to guide to Fran’s most private area.  To his surprise and delight, she reached down and guided the erect organ into her.  After several quick violent thrusts, the man exploded into her.  He collapsed upon her, while she continued to move her hips under him and soon Cliff was erect again.  Their lips met in a passionate kiss and once more, the young widow guided him into her.  Their lovemaking continued until they both climaxed together.  The man sat on the side of the cot, overjoyed with what had just taken place.

Fran rolled onto her front and began to sob loudly!



She said to Cliff while sobbing, “you took advantage of me.  My husband is not cold in his grave and you are here forcing me to do your wishes.  Wait till the people of Ardbeg hear that you raped Amos’ wife.”

“First you kill my husband, and then you refuse to hire my son.  Then you come to my cabin and take advantage of me.  You, Clifford Trumbull, the outstanding man in this small community have forced his way on a young grieving widow.”

Cliff stood over the girl as she ranted guilt on him.  He pulled on his trousers and reached down turning the young nude girl over.  He raised her to a sitting position and replied, “Fran, I see where this is going, while it’s true I have lusted for you ever since you and Amos came to Ardbeg.  I would never have attempted anything with you, while your husband was alive.”

“I am married to a cold sexless woman who is a shrew of a person.  When I attempt to have sex with Agnes, she says, “what again!  We just did that 2 weeks ago and it was horrible.  But if you must do it, help yourself and please hurry, and don’t leave me with child, I hate children.”

“Francis you were not raped or seduced; we came together as lovers should; willing, and with desire, our love was enjoyed by us both.  I know you are using this to force me to take Abner and make a man of him, now that he no longer has a father in his life.  I still do not have a job for your son, but I will find something for him at the camp.  He can be an extra cook’s helper.  I already have a young French lad who does the job quite well; he and Abner can share the job.”

“Fran, I have traveled the world been in two wars and I am not a fool.  I know I have quickly fallen in love with you, from this moment on, I consider you my wife, not my mistress or whore.  Until our lives change and I can place a ring on your finger and stand before God and man and declare that you are Mrs. Trumbull, this must remain our secret.”

“I will take your son, and under my watchful eye he will learn and grow to be a logger.  Now Mrs. Trumbull, I see you’re ready to make love to your man once more.”  Standing the Bull removed his trousers and Fran reached out helping him to join once more.

As they made love throughout the afternoon, Fran told Cliff, “I met Amos at the river’s edge some 10 years ago at Byng Inlet.  I am the daughter of a Frenchman and an Indian woman who has eight daughters of which I am the second oldest and considered a burden on the family.  Just another mouth to feed.  My older sister Louise has been traded to an Indian trapper for a bottle of whiskey.  She had been pulled to the trapper’s canoe and roughly placed inside by her father.

The trapper said, “Your daughter is going to the French River country”.  Passing a paddle to Louise, he told her to paddle and off went her sister. Never to be seen again.

She told him how she had met Amos on the banks of the Magnetawan River.  He was a deck hand on a lake boat that was unloading coal at Byng Inlet. Amos had jumped ship and was heading on foot up river to escape the job he hated and feared. The storms on the great lakes were more than he could handle and seasickness had never left him. Amos told Fran that he was 16 years of age and had thought of joining the army.

Fran and Amos talked for a while telling each other about their lives and their dreams.  Fran did not have dreams of her future; she knew what was in store for her. The next bottle of whiskey would seal her fate and she would paddle off into the unknown. Fran started to cry about her station in life and what lay before her. Amos not used to seeing girls cry, placed his arms about her shoulders trying to comfort her. Fran warmed to the young mans embrace and soon they were kissing, shortly after they entered into intercourse. This was the first time for both of them. Amos said “Fran, come with me.”  She replied, “Yes Amos, I would rather have some choice about with whom I leave, I will be sold for whiskey”.  They consumed the berries from the basket, which Fran had picked.  They stood holding hands and they started up river to whatever awaited them.    Amos never married Fran, but they both knew they were a couple.  Within 9 months of being together along came Abner. They had worked at several places over the last ten years. They were in Dunchurch when they heard perhaps Amos could go to work in Ardbeg as loggers were needed there. They set out on foot on the trail known as the bunny trail and 2 days of hiking up hill and down dale brought them into Ardbeg. Trumbull had told Amos, “if you need work bad enough to walk the miles to Ardbeg on a whim, you’re the kind of man that has a place in my crew”.

Soon the sun started to set and Fran told her new man, “Abner will be home soon, perhaps you should go, and come see him tomorrow.”  Fran dressed, embraced her new lover with a contented smile on her face. Her plan had worked better than she could have hoped. It did not hurt that this second man in her life proved to be a good lover, something that was lacking in Amos.  This Bull could bring her to places she had never known existed.

With thoughts of contentment and satisfaction she began to make her son his supper of oatmeal.  Just after the meal, Mr. Trumbull knocked on the door saying he wished to talk to Abner. 

Cliff said, “I have a job for you Abe, at the logging camp as a cook’s helper.  I will be passing on your father’s clothing to help outfit you.  You will be paid 20 cents a day and expected to put in a 12-hour day.”

Fran told Abner to thank Mr. Trumbull for his kind offer, which he did.

She then said, “Abner, I need to talk to Mr. Trumbull about what will take place with your father’s remains.  Go to bed and rest after your hard day at the river.” 

The boy went to the sleeping loft and he could hear the adults talking quietly.  The Bull stood and put on his coat, saying “I will be leaving in 2 days at 5 A.M. have the boy ready to go.”

Abner turned to yell a thank you, but remained mute as he saw Fran embrace the large man in the door.

He heard the man say, “I will be back in a week with new cups, a bag of beans, and another treat for you”.  Through sleep laden eyes the boy laid down puzzled about what had just taken place.  Soon he was asleep.

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