Country Roads

"Back up to the bars," she ordered, "and I'll take off your cuffs."

******************

He woke the next morning to someone shaking his body. It was Iris.

"Wake up, sir," she said as she shook him again. "We're releasing you."

Suddenly John was wide awake.

"What?"

"Yes," she said. "We found your semen inside Betty Lou, but we also found another man's semen, and it was as fresh as yours. She had sex with both of you, probably within an hour, but she never mentioned that. We're taking you back to the No Tell. We want to question her again."

As they drove him back to the motel, he tried to understand what was going on, but he couldn't. Everything that had happened to him yesterday was like a nightmare. He remembered how much come Loretta had forced into his mouth? It wasn't just his. How could Loretta have had another man's come inside her?

The manager told Iris and John that Betty Lou drove off yesterday afternoon when she got back from the police station and he hadn't seen her since.

When Iris told him about the semen analysis, the manager said, "I didn't say anything yesterday, because I was sure I was mistaken, but after the gentleman and the lady checked in, I saw a woman go into the room two doors down from yours.

"The woman looked sort of like Betty Lou, and I thought for a moment that it was strange that your wife was going into another room, but I didn't get a good look at her face, so I wasn't sure it was her. The man checked out yesterday morning. I'm sorry."

"I have no car," John said. "I'm stranded."

"I'll drop you off at the train station," Iris said. "It's a couple of towns away, about twenty minutes from here."

**********

One by one, each of John's credit cards was denied at the train station's ticket window. He searched around for a pay phone and tried to place a few collect calls, but all he got was voice mail. He didn't leave any messages. Once he started to say what had happened to him, but he stopped when he realized that he was sounding delusional.

He sat in the station for a while and then picked up his suitcase and walked through the parking lot to the highway. He walked slowly and gingerly because of shooting pains from inside his ass. He couldn't think of anything else to do, so he kept walking.

While he was walking, he almost forgot the pain because he felt like his brain might explode. His thoughts went in every direction, and each one was more agonizing than the previous one.

Why was he walking down this dusty highway in the middle of nowhere, sweating in the midday heat and swatting at flying insects attacking his arms and the back of his neck? He felt like he was in some kind of horror movie.

The thought came to him that maybe Loretta was possessed. Maybe an alien intelligence had invaded her body and was controlling it. What else could explain how the wife he deeply loved and who loved him just as much could turn into a monster?

There were only a few cars. Every time he heard one behind him, he turned around and stuck out his thumb. A woman drove by him. After she passed him, she made a U turn and passed him in the other direction. Then she came up behind him and followed him as he walked for a while. Finally, she pulled even with him and yelled through her open window, "Where are you going?"

"Home to Jacksonville," he said as he stopped walking and looked at her face. She seemed to be in her forties and was nice looking, except for a little too much makeup. He didn't say anything more because he was sure she wasn't going to pick up a strange man.

"What's in the suitcase?" she asked.

"My clothes."

"Open the passenger door and then step back and open the suitcase. If you do anything else, I'm driving off fast."

He followed her instructions.

"Okay," she said. "You can put the suitcase in the back seat and get in."

She watched him closely as he got in and buckled up. She pulled back onto the highway before she spoke.

"I'm going to Jacksonville, too. That's more than three days away. You look like you have money. Why aren't you taking a bus? Is someone after you?"

"No," he said. "If you don't mind, I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay," she said. "From the way you were walking, I can tell you're hurting, so you can just sit there and listen to the radio for a while. Sit all the way over by your window and don't try to move any closer. While you're sitting, think about this: If you're no better company than the radio, then why am I giving you a ride?"

They listened to the country station in silence for about an hour. She turned the radio off and spoke to the windshield.

"Have you decided whether you want to talk or you'd rather I drop you off in the next town?"

"What do you want to talk about?"

"You can start by telling me how you got from Jacksonville to walking down a Missouri highway with a suitcase."

Slowly, he started telling her what had happened. At first he hesitated to share some of the sordid parts, but as his emotions took over, he felt better about having someone who would listen to him get everything off his chest without saying anything.

She interrupted him a few times to ask for more details. He had to go back all the way to when he met Loretta and how they got married and their life together and the vacation they'd planned in Branson. She didn't react to anything he told her.

When she had no more questions, she turned on the radio again and they rode without talking for a while. He looked at her and wondered what she was thinking, but she just looked at the road.

She turned off the radio and said to him, "I've been thinking about your story. It's too crazy to make up, so I believe you. What explanation have you come up with?"

"Nothing," he said. "All I can think of is getting home and talking to Loretta. I hope she's all right. Someone must have done something to her, but I don't know what or how. Or they were lying about what she said. I just don't understand it."

"You know at least one thing someone did to her. You can call me Ida."

"I'm John. What do you mean, Ida?"

"They found two different kinds of jism in her pussy, and the motel manager saw her going into another man's room."

"He wasn't sure."

"Another man fucked her, she gave you sloppy seconds and then she fed you his come and yours. You told me Loretta's originally from Mississippi. Now do you get it?"

"No!"

"You don't look stupid, John. Did she ever tell you that poem about Mississippi maidens?"

"You mean the one about Mississippi maidens love stronger than whiskey?"

"That's the one. Every girl I ever met from Mississippi knows it."

"Loretta recited that to me when she told me that she had stopped dating other guys. The other guys were all football players, so I thought I didn't have a chance. I proposed to her the next night."

"Did she ever recite it again?"

"Lots of times."

,"And you never took it seriously?"

"The only time she ever sounded serious was a couple of nights before the wedding. After that it was a joke.

"When she visited me at my office and a good looking woman walked by, she would whisper it to me and we would start laughing and everyone would stare at us. The same thing would happen if we were at a party or a restaurant and she caught me looking at a hot babe. Why do you bring that up?"

"Because Loretta is scratching your eyes out and beating your head in."

"No she's not. The poem is about cheating. I've never cheated on her, and she knows I never would."

"You're lying. I've heard a hundred men swear they don't cheat, and they were all cheaters. I'm not passing judgment on you. I'm just saying that Loretta found out you're cheating and she's paying you back like a Mississippi maiden. Add up everything that happened, including the credit cards being canceled, and it's obvious."

"You can say what you want, Ida. You don't know me from Adam, so why should you believe me? But for a minute, pretend that I'm telling the truth. If I'm telling the truth, what's going on? How does any of this make sense?"

Ida was quiet for a while, and she looked straight ahead at the road.

"All right," she said finally. "I know you're lying, but I'll play your game. There's still no other explanation, except she thinks you're a cheater. Is Loretta crazy jealous? Does she check up on you all the time? Is that the kind of woman she is?"

"No, she's nothing like that. She's passionate and emotional about everything, but she trusts me and knows me well enough that she wouldn't believe anyone who told her I cheated. She would demand proof. Since I don't cheat, there wouldn't be any proof.

"There's no reason she would do something like this. Maybe somebody else is doing this to both of us and she's in danger. If she's not there when I get home, I'm calling the police."

"Oh, she'll be there when you get home," said Ida. "I'm sure of that. I wish we could bet on who was right, but you don't have any money."

"I don't have money now, but I will when I get home. I'm going to pay you for this, Ida. I promise. I don't know what would've happened to me if you hadn't picked me up. You just tell me how much you want, but I'll probably pay you more than whatever you ask."

"Thanks," she said. "I don't think Loretta's going to let you get to your money for a while. I was thinking about other ways you could pay me."

"What do you mean?"

He turned and looked at her. She was looking straight ahead as she drove, but her facial expression had changed. As expressive as she had been a second ago, her face was now a mask, showing no emotion.

"We'll talk about it later," she said.

After that they listened to the country radio station. As it was getting dark, she turned off the Interstate onto a two-lane country road. She didn't reduce her speed and it felt to him like she even increased it as they hurtled through the twilight for the next fifteen minutes, until she finally slowed and pulled into a small motel.

For a moment, he shuddered because the motel reminded him of the No Tell Motel. He told her he'd sleep in the car, but she said that was stupid, because there was a fold-out couch and a bed in the room. They took their bags to the room, and she told him to shower and get dressed because they were going for dinner.

Dinner was at a nearby roadhouse, and by the time they finished, the music had started. She took his hand and pulled him from the dining area to the bar and dance floor and sat down with him at a table.

He had no idea where they were, but a lot of people knew Ida, mostly women who looked similar to her. They all wore dresses that were cut low at the top and high at the bottom and had on a lot of makeup. They weren't young, but they were well preserved. None of them were thin, but neither were they grossly overweight like many of the other women in the bar.

These women and a few men stopped at her table, and she introduced John to them. A few of the women sat down next to Ida and spoke to her. John couldn't hear much over the music, but he did hear some say, "See you later," to her as they got up.

John let Ida buy him some drinks after promising her he'd pay her back for everything. When she pulled him up for a slow song, he started to argue but then gave in. During the song, she pulled him close to her.

He tried to resist, but she was insistent. He felt her body's warmth and smelled her strong perfume. She pushed her ample breasts into him and frequently put one leg out and slowly rubbed it between his legs as they danced.

He tried to ignore what she was doing and looked around the room. Some of the woman who had come to their table were watching them, smiling and talking to each other. By the end of the dance, he was aroused despite his efforts and tried to hide it as they sat back down. This scene repeated itself a couple more times before they finally left.

When she followed him into the motel room, she pushed him onto the bed on his back. He tried to get up but before he could, she was sitting on top of him. As he started to push her off of him, she spoke in a sharp voice that he hadn't heard her use before.

"Before you do anything, John, listen to me for a moment. It's time for you to pay for your ride. I'm not the good Samaritan you think I am. After you pay, that will make us even for today.

"If you don't want to cooperate, you can leave. I've got a gun for protection, but I won't try to stop you. Maybe some drunk will give you a ride because most sober people in these parts are suspicious of strangers.

"It will take you two or three days to walk back to the main highway. It's divided, so you'll have to stand by a ramp to hitch a ride. The state troopers don't like that, so you'll get to tell them your story at their holding jail.

"They'll find out you were arrested for rape a couple of days ago. Even though you were released, they'll check you out thoroughly before letting you go. Wherever you go, it will be the same. The bottom line is it might take you weeks to get home to Loretta rather than three more days with me.

"So you have a choice tonight. Will you do what I want or not?"

As she said this, Ida got up off him and stood next to the bed waiting. John looked up at her and didn't move.

"I want an answer, John," she said in a steely voice. "Say it! Yes or no!"

In a whisper, he said, "Yes."

"Good," she said. "Now get your clothes off."

He looked at her as he undressed mechanically. She was taking off her clothes, too. All the lights in the room were on and he could see that her body was plump and she had large breasts, but her legs were sleek. She had a large bush.

"Now lie down on your back," Ida said. As soon as he did, her bush was smothering his face. He felt her hands grab his cock and balls and start playing with them.

"Get to work," she said as she spread her legs.

He tongued her while she pumped his cock and played with his balls for a while. Then she moved on him until her pussy was replaced by her ass.

"Lick my asshole," she said.

He gagged and didn't respond.

"Lick my asshole," she said again. He yelled, because she had squeezed his balls.

When she started squeezing again, he began licking. She went back to working his cock and balls. He started feeling like he was going to come.

"Now stick your tongue in," she said. "I'm pushing my ass open so you can get it in. That's it. Keep pushing it in deeper. Good. Now start fucking my ass with your tongue. Yes, like that."

She continued pumping his cock with one hand, but she let go of his balls with the other hand and stuck a finger into his ass. He jumped when she did that and as she slowly moved it in and out of him, he knew it wouldn't be long.

"Spit on my asshole and push the spit in with your tongue," she said as she slowed down her pumping. "Good. Now do it again, keep spitting and pushing your tongue in."

As he obeyed, she began speeding up her pumping. He started thrusting into her hand and she suddenly pulled it away and moved her ass forward off his tongue and down his body. She placed his cock at her moist asshole and lowered herself onto it. She went up and down on it two times, and then he exploded inside her.

She sat on him until he was soft and then she carefully lifted her body up and once again moved back until her ass was at his mouth.

"Lick my ass," she said.

Once more he gagged and once more she squeezed. He began licking.

As he licked, she pushed his come out of her ass into his mouth. She made him stick his tongue in and pull more of it out. The last thing he had to do was put his mouth up to her asshole and suck it out like a vacuum cleaner. All the while she was fingering his ass. She had two fingers inside it but he didn't get aroused again.

After he finished sucking her ass, all the lights went off. He heard some movement in the room and the door opened and shut. When she let him up, he ran to the bathroom and threw up.

When he came out, she was under the sheets and motioned him to get in next to her. He hesitated but finally got into bed, moving as far from her as he could. He was exhausted and fell asleep quickly.

The next morning, she took him to a diner for breakfast.

"We're even for yesterday," she said. "If my price is too steep, I'll take you a few miles further down this road. There's a small shopping center and more traffic, so you'll have a better chance at finding a ride in your direction. Or I can take you to the highway on-ramp if you want to risk getting hassled by the troopers."

He ate silently for a while.

"What was that with the lights last night?" he said. "Who was in the room?"

"Only a few girlfriends," she said. "They were filming us. I've got the video. You don't have to worry. I'm not putting it on the Internet."

He thought about what he'd have to do for the next two nights and almost threw up into his oatmeal. He decided he had to focus on getting to Loretta as fast as he could, even it put him at the mercy of this barbaric woman.

**********************

That day was almost a repeat of the day before: driving, with not much conversation, which suited him fine. Another cheap motel, another roadhouse where a lot of women and a few men knew Ida and another disgusting ordeal on the bed that was filmed by her friends.

The following morning, he felt almost elated. There would be only one more night of horror because they'd get to Jacksonville before noon the next day.

That night in the motel, she went further. After he had eaten his come out of her ass, she turned around and sat on his stomach facing him. He was feeling exhausted and nauseous so he was barely aware of her until she leaned over and slapped his face hard with her right hand.

Then she slapped him just as hard with her left hand. She kept alternating and as she slapped, his face flipped from side to side. His cheeks were burning with pain before she stopped.

She rested for a while and then got off him and rolled him over onto his stomach. She got up from the bed and reached for something. He heard a whistling sound and then a crack of lightning. He would never forget those two sounds the rest of his life.

He screamed as he felt a searing pain that began on his butt cheeks and traveled to every nerve in his body. He raised his head and saw her lifting a cane. Then came the sound of it cutting through the air again, and then the lightning tearing into his ass. She was bringing the cane straight down with all her strength, and each stroke felt worse than the one before.

Though he was exhausted, he tried to twist and avoid the cane. He crawling across the bed like a crab. She didn't try to stop him but just followed him and kept on swinging.

When he was about to fall off the bed, she pulled him back on and began again. By this time, he was screaming, crying, twitching and squirming without realizing what he was doing. Then it was over. Later, she told him she had given him forty strokes, but he would have sworn it was hundreds.

When she finished, he felt like his ass had been cut into a million pieces and was burning in a frying pan. Even when she was gently rubbing some ointment in and wiping off the a few bits of blood where the cane had broken the skin, he screamed from the excruciating pain. When she finished, she sat down next to him on the bed.

"You'll be all right in a week or so, John," she said. "Try not to look at your ass in a mirror because seeing how I shredded it will only make the pain worse. But it will heal. Eventually you won't see anything."

The next morning when he woke, his entire body felt like a ball of pain. They didn't talk at all during breakfast. When they were almost done, Ida said she had to make a call and went outside. She was there for nearly half an hour. In the car, they listened quietly to the country station. When John saw they were just a couple of hours away, he started getting fidgety.