Winter By Liverpool Kiss Larry's Story It was late September, the summer was fading and all we could now expect was a long lingering winter with the dubious appeal of a lonely Christmas in the middle. I was driving west along Highway 17 on my way to my home in Vancouver. I had done some work in Prince Edward Island; a small construction job that I had done for love rather than for money, I had had designs on staying on in Charlottetown after the job was finished maybe spend for the rest of the year there, but after a few days PEI seemed to offer even less than Vancouver. I had left Sudbury at three and as I approached Blind River I looked at my fuel gauge, after Blind River it was a hundred k's of nothing until I got to Sault St. Marie. I pulled into the Huskey station in the centre of the small town and got out; the wind whipped off of the lake and cut right through me. I shivered as I fumbled with the gas pump; there was a diner attached to the gas station and as I filled my car the aroma's that floated on the stiff breeze reminded me that I hadn't eaten since breakfast. I looked around it looked clean enough. I filled up and went into pay and took a quick look through the restaurant, foot and mouth didn't seem imminent so I parked the car and returned and took a table close to the counter. Two women sat down at a table across from me. I smiled at the one closest. "Hi," I said amiably. "Hi," she replied, "getting kind of cool," she said in an attempt to start a conversation. "Yeah." I agreed as a very efficient the waitress handed me a menu and took my order. I ordered the days special and a cup of coffee. And she disappeared as quickly as she arrived. "Which way are you headed" I asked, "North, the brunette closes to me said, "Thunder Bay." "You've still got a way to go." She nodded, and took a sip from the endless coffee cup. "I like your car, '69?" She asked. "Yes it is." "Big Block?" "It's 351 Windsor, drinks gas." I told her. We chatted easily and as my meal arrived I noticed that they made no attempt to go, they seemed content to just sit a drink the coffee and chat. I finished my meal and started to get ready to move. I wanted to get to Sault St. Marie before it got dark. I received my bill and gave the waitress a ten dollar bill and told her to keep the change, and got up. "Could you give us a lift as far as Sault St Marie?" the brunette asked. I didn't have a problem, they didn't seem like bad company, and beside what harm could a couple of chicks do? "Sure, might be a little tight in the back tho'" "That's alright, it's not far and we might provide a little entertainment along the way." She said with a twinkle in her eye. We pulled out of the station and headed into the sinking watery sun. We had driven for about half an hour, we chatted easily about music and films and our lives in general; it was light and amusing and the miles sped past in the gathering gloom. The brunette sat beside me, she was a little on the chubby side, big breasted and filled her jeans, but she had an easy personality and laughed a lot, I liked that and then just when I least expected it she put her hand on the top of my leg and caressed me through my jeans. I looked at her and she returned my stare with a hard gaze that both excited and scared me a little, she had deep blue eyes, that seemed to bore right into mine as if to say I'm going to give you a blow job, not can I give you a blow job. I tried to hold her stare but I couldn't. My eyes returned to the road as she unzipped my fly and her hand snaked inside my pants. It was difficult to concentrate on the road ahead and she wrapped her hand around my erection and pulled it out. She stroked me a few times and brought me to a full seven inch erection. "I think you'd better slow down." She told me as I seemed to have trouble concentrating. "Just like all men can't do two things at the same time, Driving and coming seems to be a little too difficult, eh?" She asked but she wasn't joking. "I said slow down." She repeated with some steel in her voice that made me shrink a little. I did as she said and slowed to about twenty her hands slipped down my shaft and she wrapped her fingers around my balls just as the woman behind me pulled a bag over my head. In the blink of an eye, the atmosphere in the car changed from light and amusing to dark and painful as she squeezed my balls. "Stop the car." The brunette demanded. I couldn't see and stopped as quickly as I could. She wrench hard on my balls. "Get out. Get of the car, now." "Please I.." "Shut the fuck up and we won't hurt you." I opened the door and stumbled out of the car the three of us seemed to get out of the car at the same time. I was pushed into the gravel on the roads shoulder and they started to strip me. My boots were quickly removed and my jeans were pulled down and with a couple of swift jerks my jeans were pulled off, and then my underwear was ripped off. Buttons spat everywhere as they tore open my shirt and literally ripped it of my back my t-shirt went the same way. My arms were pulled behind me and my wrists cuffed. The brunette never let go off my balls once, she squeezed and twisted them causing me cry out in pain I was scared; and now, as the cuffs snapped around my wrists I had good cause to be. Winter Chapter Two (Now told by a third party) They stripped him naked went through all of his pockets and collected his keys , wallet some change a packet of gum and in the gathering darkness they opened the trunk and pushed him in, the brunette gave his balls a heavy punch just before she slammed the lid on him. They threw his clothes into the bushes that were just off the road and got into the car and headed towards Sault St, Marie. "His name is Larry Miller he's born in 1961, makes him fifty," said the blonde woman in the passenger seat, "and he lives in Vancouver, Surrey," she continued. She opened the glove box and pulled out the vehicle ID. "Car's his; registered to him at the same address in Surrey. Got a few letters here." and the blonde went through the couple of letters in the glove box and then slammed it shut. "Well we know he's not married, the brunette said, as she shifted through the gears and headed towards the last of the sunset. In the diner during their brief conversation the women questioned him without him knowing he was being questioned; through an innocent list of light conversational banter they found out that he had been married, but was now divorced, he had two daughters both in their early twenties both travelling the world, one of the letters that the blonde had looked at was from one of his daughters in London. His parents were both dead, well at least his mother was, he hadn't heard from his father in over ten years. And he said that he had a brother and sister somewhere and gave the indication that he hadn't seen either in a long time. He had quite his last job a month ago and had just finished a small volunteer project in PEI, 'people there need all the help they can get,' he joked and he said he was heading back to Vancouver and might put his feet up for the winter and again he had given the indication that if he was to step off the edge of the world tomorrow not too many people were going to miss him. Which was exactly the type of man the women were looking for. The blonde went through his wallet, "he's got ..sixty ... .eight five dollars in cash and a couple of credit cards, she pulled the cash and the cards out of the wallet and transferred the cash and cards including his driver's licence into her hand bag and threw the empty wallet out of the window. They drove on into the night in silence the euphoria that they both felt immediately after attacking him was draining and now they were tired. There was no feeling of guilt or remorse they had wanted to do this for a while and now it seemed all of the cards had fallen correctly for the women. Larry Miller was going to learn to be a slave to the Superior sex, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. They turned right when they got to Thessalon, the driver checked out the fuel gauge. "It's 220 k's to Chapleau, she said to her friend. I'm not sure what this thing does to the gallon, but he was right, it sure drinks gas. The blonde got out and put fifty bucks in. and then they continued north along the lonely 129 highway. In winter roads like the 129 are deadly; breakdown out there and you will freeze to death and it will be days before they find you, but for people who live in this part of the world it's something they never think about, it's a part of life a life that both of the women were used to. The big Ford engine ate up the 220 kilometres in less than two hours; the lights of the town welcomed them at a little after seven pm. They drove through town and were tempted to stop for a beer at a local watering hole,, but thought they had better get rid of the bundle in the trunk first. They continued through town and headed west down Poplar Street, but just a kilometre out of town they turned right and a few minutes later they turned into the drive of a small farm. The driver swung the Mustang around and reversed towards a garage, the passenger jumped out and opened the garage doors, and the brunette slowly eased the Mustang in and the car disappeared from the world as the doors were closed Both Women got out and opened the trunk. They hauled him out and the big man stood hunched, frozen. "I guess the heater never made it back there eh?" The brunette asked. There was no response. She grabbed him by his cock and led him out of the garage and into the kitchen, and then she opened a door and led him down the stairs into the basement. The basement had been an unfinished project of a previous owner, he had poured the concrete floor and an attempted had been made to divide it into a couple of rooms but that is when the project had stopped either by lack of funds or lack of interest; the studs were up and a bit of drywall had been nailed up but that was it; it was still very much a work in progress. A single bare light bulb was the only light and it cast giant shadows caused by the skeletons of the wall frames. At the bottom of the stairs they turned back on themselves and stood in front of the crawl space. The crawl space was less than four feet high and about twenty feet deep by ten wide, timber panelling separated it from the rest of the basement and a small door allowed access. The door had a small window and was padlocked. The brunette let go of Larry's cock and she unlocked the small door. "Get on your knees.' The blonde told him and he obeyed, he had been silent since they pulled him out of the car; she expected a bit more fight out him, a bit more volume, but he hadn't said a word. They pushed him into the crawl space, and then on to a mattress by the wall, a mattress and a bucket were the only furnishings in the tiny cell. The two women had had a long day. They fastened a collar around the slave's neck and chained him to a ring that had been set in the concrete, and they left the cell. The Brunette locked the door and they climbed the stairs and turned the light out when they left the basement. Leaving the slave to lay in the darkness and contemplate his situation. The brunettes name was Chantelle; she was 34 and grew up in the small towns and mining communities that dotted the Northern Ontario landscape like acne. Her parents had split up when she was young and was raised by her mother until she was old enough to make a decision and she left one mining town for another and moved in with her father. Her father worked at the local mine but drank too much, he looked after her about as much as she looked after him, but she couldn't do much about the unfortunate night two years ago when a lethal combination of too much booze, black ice and a semi-trailer ended her father's life on his fifty sixth birthday. She was surprised when the will had been read that everything had been left to Chantelle, and even more surprised to find that he had left quite a lot. Life in the mining towns was hard but if you could make a go of it the rewards could be quite attractive. Chantelles's old man had left her a bit of money and a small farm up near Chapleau; forty acres and a three bedroom timber siding house that had recently been renovated. She drove up to the small town at the end of 129 and was pleasantly surprised with what she found. She quit her job and moved in and set up home. The blonde's name was Marilynn Vivian Fischer alias Vivian Foster, aka Lynne Fisher aka; the list was quite long she had been arrested for a string of offences and had spent more than a couple of years in the jail in both of the facilities in Thunder Bay and Sault St. Marie. Her crimes had escalated from shop lifting to being in possession of stolen goods, which had earned her six months in a Provisional Detention Centre in North Bay, She then got involved in selling drugs and had stabbed an officer while resisting arrest which got her five years in Thunder Bay, she was transferred to The Soo in 2007 and released a year later. She had been good girl since then she rode with a rough bunch of bikers for a couple of years flirting with the edge of the law, but one day decided she wanted a new life and moved to Chapleau where she found a friend in Chantelle. Chantelle and Vivian had met two years ago in the bar of the Oaks, the only watering hole in Chapleau and on a Saturday night it was full and at eight o'clock it was full with every no hoper and looser from miles around, and things hadn't changed much. The gals arrived too late to get a table and had to content themselves to enjoy their beers at the bar where they were hassled every five minutes either to dance to the loud Country music band that was just warming up, or got themselves involved in empty conversations with lonely drunks. They drank from the bottle and scanned the bar for the person they were looking for. They saw her but she was in a crowded booth and was having trouble extracting herself, and they ordered another beer while she finally managed to squeeze out of the throng around the table. The first thing you noticed about Debbie was her height; in her high heel boots she stood a couple of inches over six foot, she was a strikingly good looking woman with long blonde hair and an excellent figure; she looked a million dollars in a white shirt and blue jeans that were so tight they had to have been sprayed on. What is a person who looks like this doing in Chapleau? It was a question she was asked every night, 'everybody has got to be somewhere,' was her stock standard answer. She avoided the braver of the drunks, most left her alone because they were intimidated by her, but there was always one or two who saw her as a challenge, but she tied them in knots with her quick one liners, Debbie wasn't just good looking she was also razor sharp. "Where have you two been?" I've called you a dozen times?" Debbie asked accepting the beer that Chantelle offered. "We've got him." Chantelle said simply taking a long swig from her bottle as she watched the recognition ignite in Debbie's eyes. "You have!" Debbie almost shouted hardly containing her enthusiasm. "And you're here? I'd have his pants down and ... " "They are down, he doesn't have any pants, he has no clothing at all." Chantelle told her friend. Debbie burst out laughing "How, where, when?" She demanded to know. "Come on there's nothing here I want tonight," Chantelle said as she drained her bottle. And Debbie and Vivian followed. The marched purposely out of the bar and into the frigid night. They climbed into Chantelle's old Ford F100 and drove back to the farm. They sat three across the bench seat, Chantelle behind the wheel, Vivian beside her and Debbie against the passenger door, Debbie still had the beer in her hand and took a long swig from the bottle, before she asked them how they captured their man and Chantelle told her the story. Chapter Three Larry's Story Continues. It all happened so quickly one minute I was about to get a blow job, the next I was shoved into the boot of my car. It was a long cold dark journey and I felt every bump in the road, but slowly the cold ate into me so much so I feared I might die from it, just when I thought the journey couldn't get any worse it did, I battled to stay awake, keep from freezing to death. The back of the back seat offered a miniscule bit of warmth but it was freezing in that trunk and I shivered violently. Eventually we slowed and finally stopped. Thank God, it felt like we had arrived at a destination, any fight in me had been extinguished during the freezing drive and as I was pulled from the trunk I was almost grateful. I was pulled from the car by my dick, one of then grabbed me and pulled me behind her. I was just grateful to be out of the trunk. I had no idea where I was or what I was supposed to be doing, I was stunned, and before I knew it I was shoved somewhere on to a mattress and then I was left. A collar was fastened around my neck and around the hood and I was chained up. The mattress was soft and wherever I was infinitely warmer than my trunk and as I lay there in the dark I slowly thawed. I drifted off to sleep, but I was awoken by the sound of their return, excited voices and heavy heels on the floor above pulled me from the comfort of sleep; whatever their game was and whatever their intentions were would soon be made evident and I almost welcomed their return. The light was flicked on and the women came down the stairs. tbc