A Log Truck Driver In Outer Space
Chapter 14

Copyright┬ę 2007 by cmsix

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 14 - Billy Joe Stephens, a real life good ole boy from North East Texas, has an early morning encounter with Space Aliens. Anal probing is not what he is wishing for in this First Contact.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Consensual   NonConsensual   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Humor  

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Back in Carl's trailer with more coffee in my cup I sat at the table and we all had another talk, mostly about what I had in mind for the double wide.

"We'll head out with a good sized crew and have them get off in the safe area. They won't be able to get away without Stacy or Sherry to help them and that ain't gonna happen. The rest of us will go find the trailer and trucks and get our heads around what we need to do about clearing a path for them to the safe area. After that we'll have to play things by ear," I said.

"I think you need a different plan. Why don't you take the guys with you that already have new clothes? They can do any minor labor you need until you find out what really has to happen. Meanwhile, Gloria and I can start getting some decent clothes on the others. We can make the bedding without their help, but we'll need each of them to get the sizes right for their clothes," Jane said.

"I'll stay here and help them," Karen said, and Katy and Wanda joined in on that idea.

"You know there is one snag in this plan. I don't know a damned thing about separating the two halves of the double wide," I said.

"Don't worry about that. If a man and his wife were able to get them put together there's bound to be equipment to get the job done lying around there somewhere. Stacy and I know how to use it, but we're probably going to be doing more in the line of teaching than crawling around under the damned things. We've done our time at that before and it ain't one bit of fun," Stacy said.

"Sounds good to me, let's go."

We collected the asshole crew first and latched them to the back of my log truck. Stacy, Sherry, Scotty, Spot, and I climbed into the cab and away we went. It was a little odd for me but it seemed like the chained men really were happy to be going somewhere away from their tree even if it was to work.

With Stacy and Sherry along we didn't have a bit of trouble with the barrier, and since I could flash the map up in my head if I wanted to I had no trouble finding the path that hadn't seemed to exist while I was here for my time. There were four or five young trees masking the entrance but the guys made short work of them.

Half an hour later we came to the double-wide and the trucks that had pulled it here. All of us piled out and we released the crew too in case we needed someone to go under.

I wondered how in the hell the missionaries had gotten themselves killed. They had a fairly secure home here and it was in excellent shape. They'd even put up their generator, wired it in, and somehow they had a hundred and fifty gallon propane tank set up and piped to the home. There was a small clear stream close by and they had already set up a pump with a suction pickup in the water.

Inside the home everything looked nice and neat except for a light scattering of dust. It had two fairly nice bedrooms and one smaller one. The bath has one tub and one small shower, and the kitchen was nice and looked like Suzy homemaker had just finished cleaning it.

The large bookshelf in the living room was full of religious books. The closets and dressers were even full of clothes, mostly of the Sunday go to meetin' persuasion.

We went out to examine the tractors then. They were older than Stacy and Sherry's but looked to be in pristine shape. They should have since both odometers showed less than three thousand miles. Hell, they might as well have been brand new. It was nothing for a truck like these to go four hundred thousand miles without a minor overhaul. They hadn't even gone halfway far enough for their first oil change.

Since the keys were in the starters I tried one. The batteries made the engine groan and try to start but it couldn't. I drove my truck close enough so my cables would reach either of the others without moving again and in a couple of minutes I was charging one of them up.

While that was going on we spread out to look for anything else that might be laying in the high grass around the home. We didn't find one more thing except for the long flexible four-inch waste line that just ran out onto the ground. Even the mess that had come out of it was long ago dried up. My guess was that a lack of food had sent them searching and that they'd ended their days as slaves.

While I was still waiting for the first truck's batteries to charge, Sherry and Stacy examined things underneath. Sure enough the wide I-beams, rollers, and hydraulic jacks that they knew were needed to join or separate the two halves were under there. They got the men started releasing the fittings around the big center seam and said it would only take a couple of hours after they were done to move the homes apart. The wheels were still in place.

I thought we needed a few more men and after a short conference Stacy drove my truck back for them. She promised she'd get Carl to come back with her. Of course she was stretching the truth. Thankfully she had let Carl chain all the men she was bringing to my pole trailer and they didn't really have the option of trying to sneak off or cause her trouble.

I guess it was safe enough and we did need the ten men she brought back, or at least she and Sherry needed them to get the trailers apart. I mostly stayed out of the way while the two of them yelled a lot of instructions with surprisingly little cursing and damned nearly no backtalk. They had the trucks and trailers hooked up, the trailer tires aired up, and things ready to go, including bracing the open sides, before thirteen thirty.

Thankfully the two tow tractors had CB radios so we could all communicate as we went. It was a little bit of trouble navigating the long trailers down the path we were calling a road by now, but they were up to it. I was just glad I could keep my pole folded and have the easy drive.

Before three we had the double-wide halves side by side and the task of joining them together again was underway. It wasn't really hard work for the men but it was tedious as hell getting them exactly right. I think part of the problem was that the men didn't understand at first that close enough was something Stacy and Sherry wouldn't buy into. I heard one or the other of them say close enough ain't several times before Stacy laid down the law.

"Me and Sherry have done this by ourselves more than twenty times so you fuckers might as well get it in your heads that you're going to do it right or you're going to keep trying until you starve to death," Stacy said, after she'd had enough of their fumbling around.

"That's right, if you don't get your asses in gear and get this done you can go back to loin cloths of your own manufacture and sleeping on the ground with no pillows or blankets," Sherry said, adding her thoughts.

I think the final straw was when the guys from the asshole tree started laughing at them. The assholes had been tasked with digging the sewer ditch and a small septic hole and field lines. They got through and Stacy let them sit around chained to one of the Freightliners, drinking coffee and laughing at the ones still working.

Though I'd never thought when I woke that morning that Frank, Jim Bob, and their families would get to move into their home before sunset they ended up doing it. It made me feel good inside when little Shirley came over to thank me and give me a kiss on the cheek for the effort. In fact she did the same for everyone that worked on it and I could tell that even most of the work crewmembers were touched.

Naturally Jim Bob, Hank, and their wives were happy and they rewarded the workers and all the other detainees with a big supper. Their wives even made several peach cobblers and all the workers were full and happy by the time they were put away for the night.

Karen, Katy, and Wanda had surprised Stacy, Sherry, and me when time for supper rolled around. They'd spent most of the day getting the bus's kitchen organized and stocked. It looked like the Igloo had furnished more than clothes, groundsheets, pillows, and blankets while we'd been gone. They'd also put together a big meal, inviting Scotty, Carl, and Casey et al for supper. Wanda warned me not to eat so much that I couldn't sing later.

"You've been bragging about your singing and playing and tonight's the night you show us that you weren't lying," she said.

Maybe I had been bragging about playing and singing, but I knew what I could do and they didn't. Sure, I was an East Texas redneck and I hadn't been to Julliard. That didn't cut any ice though. I don't think you'd call me a childhood musical prodigy, but if you did I don't think you'd be far off.

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