Country Roads

Many thanks to whoredinarygirl for first editing and improving this story.

The brilliant author/editor GigglingGoblin, whose carpet bombing of the story was as devastating as it was astonishing, would sneer at ordinary editing praise, so maybe shock and awe will do.

My gratitude to oVerallxaVerage for some excellent additional editing, but, more importantly, for fearlessly and forcefully challenging me until I made the story less horrifying.

For helping fix more problems, thanks to author/editor hentaikitten, whose specialty is luscious, sensually saturated interracial matings -- not couples of different skin color but of different species, such as a male demon with a human virgin and an elf with an orc.

Mississippi maidens love stronger than whiskey
They stand by their man and they never forget
Mississippi maidens they catch you at cheatin'
They scratch out your eyes and they beat in your head.

"I don't want to drive another twenty miles to the TraveLodge," Loretta said. "I've had enough for today. We're stopping at the next place we see."

"But honey," John said, "we're in the middle of nowhere."

"Look on the left side for a sign, and I'll look on the right," she said.

"There it is," she exclaimed a few minutes later. "'No Tell Motel,' next exit."

"It doesn't sound like a place we want to spend the night at."

"If the room is clean and it has a bed, it's fine. Take the exit."

The motel was more than ten miles off the highway. As they pulled into the parking lot, John started to say that they would have made it to the TraveLodge in less time, but decided not to.

The place was a long, flat, weather-beaten old building with a dirt parking lot coated with oil. At least the room was clean and air-conditioned.

Though it was late afternoon, it was still hot and humid. After he brought their bags into the room, John started to speak when Loretta interrupted him.

"You're tired from driving and you want to take a nap. Do I know you?"

"Sorry I'm so predictable. Aren't you tired?"

"Not really. I'm going to check out the motel's café to see if it's decent for dinner. Otherwise, I'll buy stuff at the gas station minimart next door and we can eat in the room."

**********

John woke, looked at the clock and saw he had slept more than an hour. Loretta wasn't back yet, so he turned on the television. Ten minutes later, the key turned in the door, and Loretta came in.

"Where have you been? I was starting to get worried."

"Nothing to worry about," she said, sitting down next to him on the bed. She was sweaty, and her makeup was smeared.

"You didn't go for a walk in this heat?"

"Just a short one."

She leaned over and kissed him, pushing her tongue into his mouth. At the same time, her hands went to his belt. She struggled with it and finally took her mouth off his so she could see what she was doing. His clothes were soon on the floor, followed by hers.

He was surprised how aggressive she was. It wasn't like her, and it made him hard quickly. She climbed on top of him, guided him into her and began moving. He watched her thighs rise and fall and listened to her breathing and the sounds their bodies made as she speeded up. The quiet room seemed to amplify everything.

He looked up and saw her large breasts bouncing wildly on her chest and looked away quickly because he knew he'd come in a few seconds if he didn't. He focused on her face.

It was more flushed than when she had walked in, but her expression was one he hadn't seen before. She usually looked dreamy and transported during sex. But now her eyebrows were narrowed, and her mouth was tight. It made her look like she was concentrating hard on something.

John felt himself close to coming and tried to hold back until she came at least once, as he usually did. Because of her strange look, he had no idea how close she was.

Finally, he couldn't stop himself. As he thrust up into her and released, he saw her smile a strange smile. Then her mouth turned down, and she stopped moving and sat on him.

"What's wrong?" John asked after he recovered. He was no longer hard, but she was still in the same position, so he hadn't dropped out of her.

"Nothing, honey," she said, "but I didn't come."

"I'm sorry. We can try again in a few minutes after I recover."

"No need to wait," Loretta said as she got up off him and quickly stood up on the bed. Just as quickly, she dropped down hard on his belly. All the air went out of him. He felt like he'd been punched hard in the stomach.

He started to open his mouth, but before he could say anything, she did it again. Now he felt nauseous and dizzy and couldn't speak. She kept standing up and dropping down on him until the room was spinning in front of his eyes. He passed out with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

She waited a few seconds and then slapped him hard with her right hand. The slap woke him. She continued to slap him, and he tried to lift his hands to ward off the blows, but he was so weak he couldn't. His face felt like it was on fire.

His eyes closed, and she stopped slapping him. He felt her moving, and opened his eyes to see her sliding forward over his stomach, over his chest and onto his neck. She raised herself up and lowered her pussy against his mouth.

"I didn't come," she said in a growling voice he had never heard before. "You need to use your tongue."

John kept his mouth tightly closed. The sight of streaks of his come in Loretta's thick pubic hair disgusted him. No way was he opening his mouth.

She slapped him hard again, once on each cheek.

"Start licking."

He didn't respond.

Loretta grabbed his nose with her thumb and index finger and squeezed tight.

"If you don't start licking, you're not going to breathe," she said.

He held his breath. He would rather pass out than obey her command. But instinct made him open his mouth and gasp for air. When he did, she flexed her vaginal muscles, and suddenly his mouth was filled with his come.

As the torrent gushed into him, a lot of it went down his throat, and he swallowed involuntarily, but some of it went into his windpipe and up his nose and he began coughing and sneezing it out.

His reactions made more of the come flow into his mouth. He couldn't believe how much of it there was. He had never thought about how much he produced, but it seemed like a gallon was coming out of Loretta. Finally, the flow slowed down and then stopped. His face was covered with semen. It was in his eyes, his ears and his hair.

He felt Loretta get up from the bed. He was still gagging and coughing as he sat up and wiped away the come from his eyes and opened them. She had her back to him and was getting dressed. He tried to say something, but as he moved his mouth muscles, the come sloshed in his mouth and made him gag.

He ran to the bathroom, spit into the sink ,got into the shower and turned it on as hot as he could stand it. He opened his mouth let the water pour into it and then spit it out, trying to get the foul taste and smell out of his nose and mouth.

He kept spitting and blowing his nose for a few minutes, and then he just stood and let the hot water rush over on him as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. Loretta had never done anything like this in eight years of marriage.

He had been standing in the shower for more than ten minutes when he heard the bathroom door open. A second later, the shower curtain was ripped to the right side. He turned, expecting to see Loretta. Instead, he was faced with a strange woman aiming a gun at him.

"Put your hands up!" she shouted.

As he quickly raised his hands, he saw a man standing next to her, also aiming a gun.

"Let him turn off the water, Viola," the man said.

"Turn off the water."

He followed her order.

"Put your hands back up."

"What is --?" began John.

"Shut up," said the woman. "Step out of the bathtub slowly."

John saw that she and the man were wearing uniforms and badges. As he stepped out and stood on the floor dripping, the woman and man backed away from him.

Viola stood in the doorway of the bathroom with the man behind her. John looked at her closely. She was stout and had a serious expression. Her gun was still aimed at his chest as she quickly glanced around the bathroom.

"Take a towel and dry yourself," she said.

When he walked out of the bathroom, he looked around for Loretta but didn't see her.

"Is this your gun?" Viola asked.

John turned where she was gesturing and saw the man holding up a revolver wrapped in a handkerchief.

"No. I don't own a gun."

"Then how did it get on the dresser here?"

"I don't know, I swear. Is Loretta okay? Where is she?"

"Who is Loretta?"

"My wife. She was just here a few minutes ago."

"Is this her gun?"

"She doesn't own a gun either."

"We're going to trace this gun, John," Viola said, "so it's no use lying."

"I'm not lying," John said, exasperated. "Why are you aiming your gun at me? I didn't do anything wrong."

"I'm going to keep aiming at you until you're cuffed. "You are under arrest."

"For what?"

"Rape."

"That's crazy!"

"Shut up and get dressed," Viola said.

John didn't say anything else as he quickly put his clothes on. Then the man came up behind him and snapped handcuffs on his wrists while the woman put her gun back in her holster. They led him to their police car, and the man pushed him into the back.

As they drove, John's mind was reeling. He wondered where the gun had come from and where Loretta had gone. But he kept coming back to what she had forced him to do. As hard as he tried, he couldn't come up with an explanation for what had possessed her.

At the station, John was booked, photographed and led to a small room. Viola asked him questions while the other officer watched.

The questions made no sense to him, but after a while, he gathered that a woman named Betty Lou Barrett was the one accusing him.

She had told them she was driving to Branson from Miami and that John had waved her down and told her his car had a blowout and had gone off the road. She had agreed to drive him to the nearest gas station, but he'd pulled a gun on her and made her drive to the No Tell and raped her. When he'd fallen asleep, she had escaped and found the manager, who had called the police.

John tried to patiently explain that he was from Jacksonville and was on his way to Branson with his wife, Loretta, who was probably waiting for him now at the motel. He described his car and told them to look in the glove compartment for the insurance papers that would prove he owned it.

Viola ignored his request and continued her questioning.

"The motel manager said you introduced Betty Lou as your wife. Betty Lou told us you had your gun aimed at her in your pocket and she had to pretend."

"That's crazy. Are you saying my wife is Betty Lou? Look at her identification."

"We did," said Viola. "Her Florida driver's license and credit cards all say Betty Lou Barrett."

"That's impossible," he said. "I was at the motel with my wife, Loretta."

After a frustrating half-hour, Viola slapped her hand on the table between them and said something quietly to the man. He left and came back in a couple of minutes and whispered in her ear.

"Betty Lou has been watching us behind the one-way glass," Viola said. "She says you're lying, and she's agreed to be examined by a doctor. She told us she didn't wash your sperm out, so we'll be collecting DNA evidence from both of you.

"We're holding you until we can make preliminary tests tomorrow morning. If they're positive, we'll send the samples for complete DNA testing, and you'll be here for a week."

"I can save you the trouble," he said. "I had sex with my wife this afternoon in the room."

"You admit you had sex with Betty Lou?"

"Not Betty Lou -- Loretta. I don't know what kind of game she's playing with me, but please tell her it's not funny."

"Are you saying the sex was consensual?"

"Yes."

"So you claim you did have sex and you didn't threaten her with the gun and she's not Betty Lou Barrett."

"Yes."

"Then we're finished for now, and you'll be taken to the lab," Viola said. "The doctor's out of town, so I'll be taking your sample for the testing."

She turned to the man and said, "I know your shift is over but before you go, please put the leg iron on him and bring him to the lab for me. Iris will help me get the specimen."

Once the long iron bar was attached to each ankle, John had to slide ahead one leg at a time down the long hall with his hands cuffed behind his back. As the man led him, John glanced to the right and saw what appeared to be Loretta walking in the other direction with Viola. He yelled her name, but the two women didn't stop.

In the lab, the officer sat him down on a heavy metal bench and left. A pretty young woman in uniform came in with the hefty Viola. They talked to each other as if he wasn't there.

"Are you sure this will be okay?" the younger woman asked.

"There's nobody here except us, and the video monitor system broke last month and hasn't been fixed," Viola replied. "I'm going to show you how I get a specimen from a rapist."

"What's this bar connected to his feet for?"

"It prevents him from putting them together."

She grabbed John, pulled him to his feet and around to the end of the bench. She turned him so he was facing away from the bench and used two sets of handcuffs to attach the spreader bar to the legs of the bench. She walked out of the room and came back with an armful of equipment that she dumped on the table in the center of the room.

From the pile of metal, she picked up a collar and scrutinized it, then moved quickly to John. In seconds, it was snapped shut around his neck.

"He can't move his legs much, except to bend them," she told the younger woman. "This will help them bend."

She walked back to the table and picked up two weights.

"Ten pounds each," she announced as she hung them onto loops on the collar. "Bring me some more weights, Iris."

"Where did you get all this?"

"I found everything in the evidence room for cases that never went to trial," said Viola as she attached three more weights. "That's enough. His own body weight will take care of the rest. See how the weights are making his neck strain. Soon he'll be bending forward.

"I'll unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly. We'll disconnect one side of the spreader for a minute to pull his pants and underwear down off of one leg. You roll up his shirt and make it secure so he's bare from the belly button down. That's it. Now I'll attach the spreader again."

The weights were making his neck muscles burn, and John slowly lowered his head and bent forward at the waist.

"He's almost ready," Viola said with glee in her voice. "Let's show the perp my new specimen collecting aid. It was sent last week, addressed to me. Anonymous donor from Jacksonville who met me in a bar a few weeks ago and heard what I do with rapists. I think it will be a lot more fun than the big vibrator.

Viola placed a large black latex cone covered in grease behind John on the bench. It tapered out slowly until about twelve inches. At that point, it began flaring. After she put it down, she sat down on a chair in front of him and motioned to Iris to bring a chair and sit next to her.

"Now we wait," she said. "As the weights pull him down, his back will strain, and he'll have to sit back."

John turned his neck and looked at the black shiny cone. He tried to keep from bending, but he was getting wobbly.

Iris watched as Viola stood up, walked behind John and began speaking to her colleague again.

"He's going to lean back to get relief but because of the weight, he won't be able to straighten out. Instead, he'll have to squat a little. I'll stand behind him to make sure that he aims right."

As he heard her, John jumped and Viola laughed.

"Did you see that? He felt the greasy tip of the cone touch his asshole. He got up fast, but the weight is going to make him squat again."

John jumped again.

"It went into him for a second that time," Viola announced. She put a big gob of white grease onto the tip of the cone and moved it slightly on the bench.

The next time John had to lower himself onto the cone, it slid in much further before he could rise off it.

"All that grease is inside him now and that will make it easier," Viola said as she put another handful of it on the tip of the cone.

John's legs tired, and the next time he squatted, he couldn't get up from the device. He tried to keep it from going deeper, but as the seconds went by, it gradually embedded itself deep inside him until he got to the part where the cone flared more widely. The pain made him pant and blow air. He broke down and began crying.

"Take off his cuffs and the bar, Iris," Viola said. "He isn't going anywhere now."

She turned and spoke to him.

"Listen to me, scumbag. We're ready to take your specimen."

She walked around in front of him and spoke again.

"Rub your hands on the cone to get some grease on them and then get to work. Once you start whacking off, I'll help you."

John heard her, but he was in such agony that his hands just hung at his sides.

"If you don't do anything, that thing is going to go so deep into you that it will come out your mouth," Viola said. "As soon as we get your specimen, we'll get you off of it."

John spoke, but he could barely whisper because of the pain.

"I can't come like this," he said.

"Yes, you can," said Viola. "I'll help you once you get started. Get those hands greasy and go to work."

John rubbed his hands on the cone until they were slimy and then put his right hand on his limp cock and began pulling it. He heard a buzzing start.

"Keep going," said Viola. "I've turned it on."

John felt the vibration inside him from his ass up his colon. Despite the pain, it was starting to have an effect. He screamed as his body slid further down the cone but kept pumping himself. The vibrations increased.

"That's as high as it goes," said Viola. "It shouldn't be long. Iris, take that cup and get in front of him. When you're ready to release your specimen, just yell out, 'I'm coming,' and Iris will get the specimen cup in the right place."

She got up and walked behind him.

When John felt he was on the verge, he yelled, and as soon as he did, his hands were snatched by Viola from behind and in two seconds they were in cuffs behind him. He screamed in frustration as Iris brought the large cup up to him and he saw his cock bounce up and down a few times and some semen seep out.

He had come, but there was no release in any sense of the word. While it was happening, he slid down further on the greasy vibrating device and felt like he was splitting in two.

As Iris took the cup away, Viola laughed.

"That's what we call a ruined orgasm," she told Iris. "Why should we let a rapist get his rocks off? This way, we get his come, but he doesn't get any fun."

When Iris took the cup away, Viola came around to the front and detached the weights and took off his collar. She pulled him to his feet as Iris slowly pulled the cone out of him.

Iris wiped the grease off of him, and the two women pulled off his underwear and pants from around his ankles. Both were soaked in grease.

"I'll wash these out and they'll be returned to you later," said Viola. "Follow me."

Naked from the waist down and with his hands behind him, John staggered more than walked as he followed Viola out of the door and down a hall, with Iris behind him. Viola led him to one of the two large cells, opened it and pushed him in.