A Log Truck Driver In Outer Space
Chapter 6

Copyright┬ę 2007 by cmsix

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 6 - 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  


Jane and Karen fixed a real meal, one that you needed to sit down at a table to eat. Thanks goodness Carl had a couple of picnic tables. They were made out of rough sawn wood but they were pretty nice and they were sturdy. I hadn't wanted to eat with the work crew, not because I was snobbish, but because I didn't want to really get to know them. Casey wouldn't have been so bad but the others weren't going to be missed after they were gone, unless I had some shitty job I didn't want to do.

For the first time though even they looked happy. We had Bar-B-Qued ribs, Ranch Style Beans, and baked potatoes. Jane had even come up with an empty Country Crock margarine container so there was plenty for the potatoes. I was almost sad when it was time to go back to the truck but thinking of Karen and a good struggle fuck I was able to tear myself away. Carl took us and the guys back for the night.

After letting the guys do their business and cover it up, I chained them to their sleeping trees again. Karen did not disappoint me either. She was already naked in the sleeper but I knew I was in for an evening of fun when she called me a rotten bastard before I even had the truck's door closed. One time I even heard Spot howling along with her while I was showing her she could too take it up the ass.

The next morning I was up early again and Karen even came with me right off the bat. Coffee was ready first and she cooked more venison and even a couple of dozen eggs for our workers. Even they couldn't find anything to bitch about, until it was time to head off for work.

Carl met us at the first hole that needed attention the next day. I didn't even bother keeping a chain on Casey or Tom. I knew Casey would never run away from the food he'd been getting lately and Carl told Tom that the dogs could find him no matter how far he ran. I gave them a shovel and mattock each and put them to work on the road.

No doubt the others wondered what was in store for them today. The trees were down and I know they were hoping I'd just let them go. Not a chance. I would have put them to work splitting and stacking wood, but Carl thought he needed a few smaller trees removed so he could get his trailer to my new road. We walked the trail and cut them down without bothering with digging them out this time. Carl would only need to make one trip out of there and we could just watch carefully to make sure he didn't kill a tire. I did take the liberty of having the guys cut and stack the wood. I'm pretty sure you can never have too much firewood.

We left them chained to trees, cutting and splitting firewood while Carl and I drove back to my place to deal with the wagon. It was easier than it had any right to be.

We had the wagon frame assembled in less than an hour. The super strong plastic boards came with a special adhesive that set in less than half an hour after application. All we had to do after that was attach them with the bolts that had been supplied and we towed the wagon back to the first woodpile less than two hours later. We even managed to haul one load to the new clearing and get it stacked before time for a lunch break.

The girls had the food ready when we got to Carl's trailer. We had ham sandwiches by the dozen. I hadn't paid any attention before, but Carl was raising pigs. Damned if he didn't have twenty or so, in assorted stages of development.

"How are we gonna move the hawgs, Carl?" I asked.

"It was hell to train the dogs to do it, but they will herd the pigs. They'll even make sure they don't run off before we get a new pen built."

It was time to stop worrying about the small stuff by now. We sat down at the table and got started on lunch. I ate so much that I didn't want to do a damned thing, and I wasn't the only one. Even though I wanted to stay right where I was, I also wanted to be done with the work crew so we got up and back to it.

The wood was split, hauled, and unloaded in the new clearing two hours before sunset. I asked the workers if they wanted to leave from there or if they'd like one more meal before I turned them loose. They agreed that they wanted the meal and so we headed for Carl's place. Karen and Jane didn't have the meal ready yet, since we were done so early, but they put the finishing touches on it.

While the cooking was finishing up I took my Estwing Rigger's Axe into Carl's trailer and put it in the Igloo, hoping for six copies. I didn't think I'd done anything wrong to the workers, especially since they'd intended to capture or kill me in the first place and steal anything I had. Still, they had done the job for me and no matter what caused them to get volunteered for the work, I didn't intend to beat them out of their labor. I told Carl about it and he said he wouldn't have gone to the trouble, but that it wouldn't hurt anything.

"Not a one of them has the balls to come around my dogs with a hatchet, not even one as big as that. Even if there was somewhere else here they could find one of them, they couldn't work it out in less than six months. It's going to be an outrageous salary for what they've done," he said.

It was a fine hatchet. Estwing called it an axe but it wasn't to my way of thinking. It was big, nearly two feet long, but you really couldn't use it two handed like a normal axe. It also had a milled face hammer head on the backside and it would be handy as hell here. Knowing what I did about this bunch, I understood that it would be their most valuable possession.

After supper I gave out the axes and it was a big surprise. I'm sure most of them would still like to use theirs on me, but I knew if I were stupid enough to give them the chance I'd deserve it. Even a good axe ain't worth a shit in a gunfight. When I told them to makes themselves scarce all but Casey did.

"What's on your mind, Casey?" I asked, after the others were long gone.

"Well, I don't want to leave. I'd a hell of a lot rather work for you just so's I could hang around and eat regular, if you can use me that is," he said.

"I'll be glad to have you. You're the only one of that bunch, or those two bunches that was really worth a shit for anything except lifting and carrying. We'll be heading back to the safe area as soon as Karen gets done talking with Jane," I said, and then went back into the Airstream to see if I could get a guess about when that would be.

"Is Casey staying with us?" Karen asked, as soon as I was inside; she was just too damned smart in my opinion.


"Good. How do you like the way my jeans fit?" she asked, and I liked them fine, though I hadn't paid any attention before.

"It worked like a charm. I put a pair of yours in there to be copied, then I took them out and put my new pair back in. They came out a perfect fit. I even made a couple of shirts, a few pairs of boxer briefs like you wear, and a pair of boots and they all fit. I've got Casey's wardrobe made already too, they just need him to put them in for the final fitting," she said, and I could tell she was real proud of herself; didn't matter, I was proud of her too.

We called Casey into the trailer then and had him put his new clothes into the Igloo then but we didn't say a word about it. He went back outside when his little task was done, playing with his new hatchet I guess.

The rest of us sat around the table and drank coffee while the Igloo was doing its job. Mostly we talked about moving until I remembered the picnic tables.

"Carl, where did you get that rough sawn lumber?" I asked.

"Old man Mitchell had one of those rigs that uses a chain saw on a sort of miniature carriage to make it a jury rigged sawmill. Damn shame the saw burned out before he even ran out of gas for it," Carl said.

"Does he live far from here?" I asked.

"Probably six or seven miles. Why?"

"Do you think he still has all that stuff for the sawmill?" I asked.

"I'm sure he does. He keeps hoping he can find someone with a chainsaw that'll fit. I have one that would work but I'm not letting him have it to burn it up too," he said.

"Let's go see him tomorrow. Is there a trail wide enough for your truck to make it?" I asked.

"I can get within half a mile, but we'd have to fell some trees to get any closer, and I'm not sure he'd like that."

"How heavy is the carriage part of rig?" I asked.

"I think it comes apart so it can be packed pretty easily so I don't think the weight would be too much for us to carry."

"We'll just have to see if we can make a deal then," I said.

Karen, Casey, and I headed back to the place not long after that. Casey was flabbergasted when we gave him his clothes. He didn't want to stop thanking us but we finally got him too. Karen gave me a break that night and only fucked me half to death.

We were up and had coffee made the next morning before Carl showed up to get rid of a few cups of it with us. Casey was all decked out in the hired hand's new clothes and it was easy to see he was still thrilled.

"You still want to go see old man Mitchell?" Carl asked.

"Yep, but I'm not as optimistic as I was about it. I don't see any problem getting the saw in tip top shape for him, but I'll bet there are lots of parts to his carriage that are too damned big to fit in the Igloo," I said.

"You're probably right, but if you fix his saw it might be even better than having your own rig. He'll probably cut what you need from now on for just keeping his saw up. If you can provide the gas somehow I'm sure he would," Carl said.

"Hell, that won't be much problem. My saw gas can makes its own gas just like my truck makes diesel. Don't ask me how but it does. It'll take a little fucking around but we can provide gas for him as long as they keep working and I doubt they'll ever wear out."

"Well, times a wastin' then. Let's load up and go to the trailer. Jane will have breakfast ready when we get there," he said, and she did.

Casey was feeling like a new man when he found out that he was going to get to eat with us too. He didn't count on the razing Jane was going to give him. He barely had his ass in a chair before she was giving him the third degree about getting himself a woman.

"Karen and I can't take this lusting over our beautiful bodies much longer. We're going to find you a gal of your own pretty quick. You might as well tell us what you like so we can start making plans," she said.

"Tell you what, Jane. After breakfast Billy Joe and I will leave Casey here for you and Karen to put him to the question. We're going to see an old man about a chain saw," Carl said.

"Good riddance. I can tell you've got Casey all bumfuzzled about women and we are just the two to straighten him out."

When Carl and I got to Mitchell's place it was easy to see that he'd known what he was doing when his sawmill was working. He had a three bedroom house made from his produce and a couple of nice out buildings too. People skills weren't high on his list though.

"Howdy Carl, and before you ask again, no, I ain't been able to get my saw fixed," he said.

"That's all you know you grouchy old bastard. I brought Billy Joe here to stop your cryin' but I can take him right back if you're gonna be that way."

"How in the hell can he fix it when nobody else can. You know as well as I do that there's a hole burned through the top of the piston. If it was just mechanicin it needed I'd have fixed it long ago. Are you finally ready to trade me for your saw? I can make it work," he said.

"You'd just burn up mine to so there wouldn't be any point in letting you beat me out of it.

"Billy Joe has a real solution to your problem. We ain't gonna tell you how he can fix it, but if you let us take it with us he'll just do it. I can tell you it won't be no problem because he overhauled mine yesterday. Do you want the damn thing fixed or not?" Carl asked.

"Sure I want it fixed, I was making a good living here with that sawmill. Trouble is I don't have much left to trade for the work he'll have to do," the old man said.

"He wants some lumber, that's why he wants to get your saw fixed. You can pay him in lumber," Carl said.

"I can try to, but I ain't got much gas left either," he said.

"He'll furnish the gas too. Give us the saw so he can get started on it," Carl said.

"Ok, ok, I'll go get it."

He was back with it in a few minutes. It was in a box and the offending piston was plainly apparent.

"All the parts is in that box. I didn't see no need to put it back tagether without a new piston but I didn't lose even one tiny screw," he said.

"We'll bring it and some gas back tomorrow unless something bad goes wrong," Carl said, and we headed back to his trailer.

"Back at Carl's ranch it didn't take us but a little over an hour to have the saw good as new, and make three copies just for spares. We cranked all of them for testing and they each fired right up. I got Casey started pouring the saw gas out of it's two and a half gallon maker/can and into the plain cans we'd used to get the diesel for Carl's truck. He didn't understand how the gas can kept getting full every half hour, but he was wearing new clothes that kept him from asking any questions.

Carl and I went into his trailer to see what the girls were up to. They were taking a gossip break so we got a couple of cups of coffee and helped them for about twenty minutes.

"You got any spent brass for your other guns laying around?" I asked Carl, after it was plain that we were both tired of the gossip.

"I've got every one that came with me. I've got my own reloading setup for every rifle or pistol; I'm just out of powder and pretty damned low on bullets and primers too.

"I'm sure the Igloo will refill the powder cans if you have 'em," I said.

"With Jane here I couldn't have thrown them away if I'd wanted to. I've even got the primer boxes and in fact I have a few primers left. You ready to replenish my reloading supplies?"

"Sure, but I've got an idea that I want to try first. Let's go back to my truck, I want to get something," I said.

The round trip didn't take fifteen minutes. All I wanted was one of the rifle cartridge containers; the ones that reloaded or made ammunition as needed. We were back in Carl's trailer with a fresh cup of coffee, and I emptied the cartridges out of the container and put it in the igloo. It took nearly an hour but it did copy the container.

"I don't see where this is going to help," Carl said.

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