King: Cocksure

Chapter X

Alaska

This novel include graphic sex scenes, some involving minors, rape and forced sex. It is purely a fantasy and is not depicting real people or events. It is intended as a satire and is meant to be both funny and stimulating. The stories have a political slant as you will see. I hope you enjoy them. New chapters will be published as they are finished.

(Mffffffffff)

Great Grandpa Mortimus Krilenko was a mountain of a man even in his mid 20s. He looked older and more rugged than his age because he was out in the terrible Arctic weather most of the year hunting seals, moose and caribou. His ancestors had migrated from the Siberian wilderness perhaps 50 years earlier because as they used to say, “we can see Alaska from our backyard.” Plus, the family was not quite on board when Czar Alexander II sold the Alaskan territories to American Secretary of State John Seward more than a half century earlier.

They called it Alexander’s and Baydalal’s folly and were determined to retain access to the wilderness they considered their personal hunting and fishing preserve. If you ever want to know the true roots of the Russian revolution and the overthrow of the Czar nine years from the time this story takes place, you really need look no further. Krilenko, with his thick wiry hair and body that looked like it had been cruelly vomited out of a mouth of a particularly nasty volcano and sculpted from solid rock, hunted and fished for recreation and to supplement his income as most Alaskans did. But his real business was the business his family had been in even in Russia and throughout most of history.

Krilenko was involved in the sex trade. It might surprise you to know there was a flourishing porn business even in those days and the family was heavily involved. Postcards, magazines and novels of the most explicit variety flowed from family print shops scattered across the globe.

The family owned brothels and sex and strip clubs all over the world, too, and that business was booming as well. By some estimates, Moscow had some 3,000 brothels operating at about this time. In Chicago, there were an estimated 5,000. The American west was full of them as well, and not just Nevada. Every western town had at least a handful, some masquerading as dance halls. Although sparsely populated in 1898, the larger towns in Alaska were fertile ground for prostitution because in the long cold, dark winter nights, fucking was about the

only thing worth doing.

The Alaskan Gold Rush was in full swing and thousands of horny miners flooded the Klondike region looking for gold and pussy, and not necessarily always in that order.

The cold breeze that whipped in from the snowy plains as Grandpa Krilenko stalked down the snow-covered wood-plank sidewalk in his massive snow shoes, stirred not a hair on his hood-covered head. This was like summer to him and though Cerulean was a town he’d never before visited—one of hundreds that sprung up over night and often just as quickly disappeared—it was not unlike many Alaskan towns and villages where he was known and feared. His job was to find talent to stock the brothels and dance halls. He imported Russian, Chinese, Canadian, and American women to fill the growing demand. It wasn’t exactly slavery.

The girls signed contracts and were technically free to leave any time, but they had to pay off their contracts and find their own way home. And sometimes in the dark, cold six-month Alaskan winter, it was easier to just sit around and suck cock, at least until spring.

With his huge, claw-shaped hands, he pounded the hard wooden door of the man he’d come to Cerulean to see, his cousin, Grabin Kosa, proprietor of the town’s largest brothel. It was late and most of the regulars had stopped by already to dip their wicks. The street was now largely quiet.

“Yes, yes, what do you want you fuckin’ bastard,” a male voice on the opposite side of the door bellowed. “We are closed. Can’t you read the sign?”

“Grabin, I am come from the family,” Krilenko said, pounding the door hard again. There was a stirring of cloth and bare feet on rough wooden floor.

“I have no family,” Grabin shouted. “Go away.”

To Krilenko this was a terrible breech of etiquette. In his deepest voice, he roared:

“It is Krilenko,” he said. “Open this door or I will kick it down myself and I will show you who your family is. You will meet them soon in the aftermlife.”

The door creaked open and an oil lamp illuminated the room inside.

A grossly overweight man stood blocking the entrance.

“Krilenko?” he said. “I have heard of you but you have no authority here. Our families were from the same brood, but long ago, the family bond was broken and we are now two different sides of the same coin.”

“Two years ago, I sent four Russian girls and two Americans here to work at this establishment,” Krilenko said. “I am here to see how they are doing.”

The door opened wider and Grabin stepped back to allow Grandpa to enter. In the dim light, he saw perhaps 25 girls, some as young as 15, lining the steps of the staircase. They wore long robes and shawls and hugged one another for warmth. Their eyes were wide with fright.

“Before you enter, I must see…” Grabin said. Krilenko nodded and opened his parka. He reached inside his heavy cotton pants to pull out the credentials Grabin sought as verification. The women on the staircase gasped in astonishment, for what Krilenko revealed was a club-shaped blunt object that looked as though it could be used to pound out the brains of baby seals.

“It is true,” Grabin said. “You are of my family. But still, I don’t see why...”

Krilenko slammed the door behind him with a force that caused the women to jump.

“I am here to learn how you run your operation.” he said. “True, I have no authority here, but I wish to learn.”

“So the high-and-mighty Krilenko’s have come at last to their senses and wish now to learn from the poor, pitiful Kosa’s how to run a brothel. So be it. Now begins your lesson.

”In a commanding voice, the fat man ordered one of the Russian girls to make Grandpa some coffee and another girl to light more lamps. The men sat around a heavy wooden table in the dining room while the women huddled in shadows around the perimeter of the room, gathering mostly near the cast iron stove for greater warmth.“

So you wish to see how to run a whorehouse, eh?” Grabin said. “The secret is in how you treat the girls. Natalie, come here.”

A small waif of a girl in a flimsy nightgown stepped forward from the crowd. Her eyes echoed the tension in the room but no one said a word.

“Show Mr. Krilenko your pussy,” he ordered. Natalie hesitated but eventually lifted her gown to reveal a nearly bald mons venus.

“She is young yet and so far has not even gotten her beard,” Grabin said. “Now, Natalie, I want you to piss for Mr. Krilenko.”

Natalie was too frightened and mortified to let loose a stream of liquid on command in front of a stranger. Grabin cuffed her hard with the back of his meaty left hand, then with the other reached inside her folds to pinch the delicate skin near her clit. He lifted her tiny body off the ground with fat fingers probing her anus and cupping the bottom part of her ass cheeks.

“Piss," I said, "you little French whore.”

Natalie let loose a stream of liquid while suspended in the air that dribbled over Grabin’s fat fingers, stained the heavy pine floor and splashed over Grabin’s boots.

“Look what you have done now, you bitch. You have pissed on my boots.”

He squeezed the lining of her pussy and with his probing fingers and sent a jolt of electric pain through her writhing body. He tossed her body on the table and pulled from his pants a less than impressive cock. He started to force feed it to Natalie who struggled to free herself from the pain and pressure he was inflicting at the nexus of her legs.

“Enough,” Krilenko said. "You lack credentials.”

“What?” Grabin said. “You said yourself, you have no authority here.”

“I showed you my credentials,” Krilenko said. “You are an artifice.”

For centuries, men in my family had been deliberately bred to enhance the size of their penises. Not every male was heavily endowed as Krilenko was. Two brothers in the same family might share the family trait or they might not.

It was really a roll of the genetic dice. But for centuries, well-endowed men were the epitome of authority in the family and the standard of male virility and domination. Grandpa’s Ace of clubs trumped Grabin’s two of Spades anywhere, anytime. I

n a family built around sex, Krilenko had the ultimate calling card even if he could barely fist his winning hand in his large, powerful hands.“

I suppose you think you are something special, ”Grabin said. He reached into a drawer and withdrew a heavy, long-barreled revolver and aimed it at great-great-gramps.

“I know you, Krilenko,” he said. “I have heard you referred to as Mortuse the Moose because you and your heavy cock are built like a moose. But this is the ultimate equalizer.

”“Peace, cousin” Krilenko said with unaccustomed calm. “I mean no harm. Indeed, I came here only to read you a story.”

“So now you want I should learn from you,” Grabin said. “Your motives change as often as the Northern Lights. But I am interested. What is your story?”

Great grandpa pulled from his coat pocket three sheaves of paper with ornate writing and started to read.

“Dearest Krilenko,” he read. “I know when you sent us here, it was at our request. We thought we could earn enough money here in Cerulean to perhaps one day start a house owned and run by working girls like ourselves. I regret to tell you that the owner of this establishment had an unfortunate accident as a result of meeting one Grabin Kosa.”

Gramps stopped for a moment to see if he should continue.

“Read on,” Grabin said. “I am curious to hear more.”

Great Grandpa continued his reading:

“Mr. Kosa has assumed control and is a most despicable fat man who treats the girls here with unwarranted cruelty. It is my belief that two of the Russian girls who accompanied us on this journey died at Mr. Kosa’s own hands. Their bodies were found in the snow this spring after a melt and they had the most animalistic bites and bruises on their breasts and in their genital areas that can be imagined. Real animals would have been kinder in their treatment of those poor, gentle souls. Rosa and Alexia were the two girls so brutally murdered and you know what sweet innocents they were. I believe they also were somehow related to the Krilenko family. My condolences.

“Kosa treats us as chattel, pawing at us with his meaty hands, taking his privileges with us whenever he wishes. The other day, I was in the outside water chamber taking my morning constitution when he pushed his way in and began to assault me with his putrid appendage in my vagina and not-yet wiped buttocks. I cannot tell you the shame I felt for myself and the loathing I have for this horrible pig of a man.

“I know it is not your custom to rescue your past associates from harm, but I am praying that the spirits of our departed Rosa and Alexia will demand that you do what is within your power to do in our defense. You are a tough but honorable man who will see the justice of our cause and who will not allow these vile actions to continue.“

I realize this letter is being sent by a most circuitous, secret route to avoid detection so it maybe months before you get this letter and are able to act in our behalf. But I pray that we can last until you find it in your heart to come to our aid in anyway you can.

‘Sincerely, Merlow McDaniel”

Grampa paused to let the words in the letter sink in.

“And do you see Merlow or any of the other girl consigned here among the women present?” Grabin said.

Gramps nodded negatively, deadly silent.

“Come now cousin, not so serious,” Grabin said. “They are long gone. Long ago they won their freedom and are now down in the lower 48 states—in New Orleans, I believe—being wined and dine by rich, old husbands whose wealth they will soon inherit. Even the two Russian girls you mentioned are there.”

“I think, cousin, that they are all dead, like Alexia…Rosa. This spring their bodies will probably be found, sweet Merlow, Tanya, Debbie, Betty…all gone.”

“You are a pretty stupid lug of a fellow to make such accusations face to face with a man holding a gun on you,” Grabin sneered. “Why would I kill six of my best girls? Their pussies earned me lots of money.”

“Because you knew they wrote to me, perhaps?” said Krilenko. “Perhaps because they were not so docile as the rest of your girls? Perhaps because you are an incompetent fuck who doesn’t know how to run a whorehouse?”

“How dare you lecture me on running a whorehouse ,” Grabin said, shifting his immense weight forward in his chair. “After I kill you I will let my women have your stuffed cock as a souvenir.”

“Evidence of your incompetence is all around us,” Krilenko whispered, drawing Grabin closer.

“What? What is that you say? Speak up.”

“If you were a good whore master, you would keep your women happy and fatter,” Krilenko said, whispering again.

He brought his massive fist down on the edge of the heavy wood table facing him. The concussion threw waif-life Natalie into the air and the opposite side of the table flipped upward striking and breaking Grabin’s extended arm. Grabin fell backward trying futilely to clutch for the gun. When he saw Krilenko towering about him holding Natlalie securely in his arms, Grabin started crying out for help.

“They won’t help you, cousin,” Krilenko said, referring to the women. “I came hear tonight to learn and you taught me very quickly in how you treated this poor child. Tonight, the white bears will eat well.”

Grabin’s body was never found. Some say he was tied to a chair and left on the ice for the polar bears to find. Some people say they heard horrible screams out in the wilderness that night. Sudden absences of people Grabin’s size rarely go unnoticed or unpunished. This was the final straw beginning the widening split between the old world and new world branches of the family. It simmered for years as a cold though deadly war. There were atrocities on both sides, I’m afraid. It was inevitable that it would flame into hot war, eventually.

“The name’s Heath,” said the gregarious doctor who showed up to treat Grabin’s women. “Jeremiah Heath.” “You have examined all of these women to see that they are okay?” Krilenko said. “Yes, most are malnourished,” Heath said.

“Many show signs of having been beaten and raped over a prolonged time. Five have gonorrhea. Three are pregnant. They all need time to recover.”

“It was my plan to transport them to Anchorage to get them better medical care there,” Krilenko said.

“In the middle of the Alaskan winter…in the dark of night?” Heath said. “Many of them will die. Stay here with them until spring. Let me treat them. With your help we can nourish them back to full health.”

“I am not from these parts,” Krilenko said.

“Neither am I,” Heath laughed. “I have family down in Idaho. Of course, they consider me kind of a black sheep because of my views on Darwin and on sex education. I kind of came up here to get away from all that…to find myself.”

“I have a business to run,” said Krilenko.

“And you can get back to it in the spring,” Heath said. “I’m telling you Mr. Krilenko if you leave these poor women now or try to transport them in this weather, most of them won’t live until spring. They need you.”

Krilenko looked at the sad, scared faces starring at him and Dr. Heath in the dim light of an upstairs bedroom in the house once owned by Grabin.

“You know they are all prostitutes?” he said. “None of the local doctors would treat them. I came to you in desperation when the miners told me you were living at the hotel.”

“Yes, I’m afraid we’re all outcasts here in this community,” Dr. Heath said. “Oh, the miners will come here and have sex with them, but they treat’ em like third class citizens. And that’s the thing, see. These girls can’t be returning to that life immediately. We gotta get ‘em back to being healthy before you have a bunch gold-hungry, boozy miners come in here one after another and stick their cocks in ‘em.”

“What will they do all winter living in this drafty house waiting for spring? That ‘life’ is all most of them know.”

“They will recover, see,” said Dr. Heath. “And while they are recovering, you and me, we can educate them about sex.”

“They are prostitutes,” Krilenko said. “What don’t they know about sex?”

“Mr. Krilenko, I swear, you are about as dumb as some of the idiots in my family,” Dr. Heath continued. “These women know how to please a man, but they don’t know nothing about how to protect themselves from disease or how to prevent pregnancy. These girls need to be educated about sex if they continue this ‘life’ or leave it. They need to know they have right to control their own bodies and if they get pregnant, they have a right to have that baby aborted, at least in the first trimester. Hell, some of my family think that a woman doesn’t even have that right in the event of incest or rape, and mark my word, some of these girls were raped.”

Krilenko had a look of terrible anger sweep across his rugged face and for a time, Dr. Heath wasn’t sure he was about to end up like Grabin.

“You are right, Dr. Heath,” Krilenko said. “I am a stupid, ignorant man. You are a man ahead of his time and who looks ahead to a better world where women have rights and are educated. I am a peasant who has led a terrible life filled with more pain than love. If I do this thing you suggest and stay to help these women, you must educate me, too, help me to understand what visions you see in this future, better world.”

“Oh, I’m no seer, Mr. Krilenko,” Dr. Heath said. “I , too, came from humble roots. I had a chance to go away to attend Harvard rather than some back woods agricultural school in Idaho or way the hell out in the Pacific in Hawaii. My family denigrated the choice of the university I attended, but I’d like to believe, however, that 100 years from now, I’ll have some relative smart enough to talk to his or her daughter about sex and maybe prevent her from getting pregnant by some brain dead moron on ice skates. Hell, I think some day there will be a women running Alaska or maybe even the United States when we get admitted to the union. I hope they are a lot smarter than some of the Heaths in our time, but I know it will happen. Maybe they’ll even realize that Charles Darwin is right by that time and not be so consumed by religious fire and brimstone.”

“Charles Darwin?” Krilenko said.

“I see, Mr. Krilenko, that you have not been exposed to the writings of Charles Darwin,” Dr. Heath said. “Did you know, sir, you were related to an ape?”

When Dr. Heath woke up from Krilenko’s solid punch to his face, Krilenko gave him time to explain himself before he put the good doctor out on the ice with Grabin and the bears. Dr. Heath was able to explain that all animals on earth--Krilenko, the bears, even Grabin--were descended from a common ancestor. In time, Krilenko became an apt student of Dr. Heath and an avid reader of books about evolution. As the women began to recover over the next couple of weeks from months of abuse, their disposition changed as well.

And for the first time in a long while, there was laugher in the house. Dr. Heath noted the change and thanked Krilenko for his warm and attentive care giving.

“Now you must be careful, gentle and patient with them,” Dr. Heath said. “Don’t be too rough or treat them like Grabin.”

“What?” Krilenko said. “Have I not been so?”

“I mean when you are having sex with them,” Dr. Heath explained.

“You told me no sex,” a confused Krilenko said.

“You mean you haven’t…?” Dr. Heath said, startled. “Oh, you poor dear, precious man. There are some girls I wanted you to stay away from because their health was fragile or because they have a disease. But they are all better now and unless you have a disease (which I know you don’t), then I suggested that sex might be a way to brighten their moods even more.”

“You stay and help,” Krilenko said.

“No, I’m afraid that this is one job you must take on all alone,” Dr. Heath said. “You see my family doesn’t just hate me because I have modern religious and scientific views. They despise me because I prefer men over women. If I could, I would help you, but I am not inclined that way. Sorry.”

“But you told me no sex.”

“I told you I didn’t want a bunch of boozy miners inhere pawing them again. That would be an epic setback for them even now. But I never meant to suggest that you abstain. I mean, my god man, they are a bunch of horny and now healthy women and you are a big stud of a healthy, horny male. What else is there to do in his big, drafty whorehouse, in this godforsaken town in the dead of an endless night, but fuck. “

Still, Krilenko abstained. His guilt over his failure to save Alexia and Rosa and the other girls he had helped send there prevented him initiating any action. So it might have remained all winter except that the girls themselves, attracted to the man who had saved them and grateful for his many kindnesses, led the way. Natalie and two other girls crawled into his bed one night and felt in the dark for the log-size rod they had witnessed the night Krilenko came to the house the first night . Their astonishment grew as they were able to massage it to full size. Natalie ran her hands in the dark over Krilenko’ s broad chest and shoulders.

“So, so many scars,” she said. “I have watched you in the bathtub even though you attempt to cloak yourself from our eyes. I have seen and now I have felt the pain you have known in life. I am still slightly sore inside from the abuse at the hands of that devil Grabin. But I will try to accommodate you inside me and so will Trinity and Paulina here. All of the girls here will try to heal you this winter as you have healed us. We will heal one another.”

So the endless night of longing became an endless night of sexual exploration for Krilenko and the girls. As soon as one girl departed, another slipped beneath him or on top of him to take her predecessor’s place. They marveled at his stamina and the length and girth of his penis. The scars on his body and face were fearsome, but none thought him ugly or monstrous despite his size. For the first time in a life time of being fucked, the girls knew orgasmic sex. He taught them and they taught him how to “heal” one another so frequently, they all actually missed the beginning of spring by several weeks.

The arrival of the babies was the signal that finally alerted them. It was said that when locals finally went to inspect the house once run by Grabin, the house “reeked” of sexual activities they could only imagine.

“I know what it smells like,” one fisherman said. “It smells like fish…no, that’s fuckin’ ! Now I am sure of it.”

By then, Krilenko and the girls were gone, headed, some said south, toward Anchorage. It was there in the summer of 1899 that a new sparkling gambling and whorehouse opened with some of the brightest, happiest, healthiest, and loveliest whores ever seen in the Alaskan territory. An Idaho doctor and a male “nurse” tended to the girls’ health needs. While Anchorage welcomed the bawdy house, it was another pinprick in the feud that was dividing the family. It also would be the first stake driven for the foundation of Krilenko’s empire of vice in a territory of ice.

“Call it survival of our species,” Krilenko said. “Only an idiot would question which is more evolved: Panning for gold in the wilds or taking gold from miners seeking pussy and other pleasures here in town.”

It was a motto that would serve his branch of the family well for more than a century.