Skeeter’s head was still ringing from the last slap Big Mike had given her, but she forced herself to focus, willing her hands to stop shaking as she used two spoons to grind the caplets into powder. Using her body to shield her actions from Mike’s suspicious eyes, she pushed the powder into the small opening of the pop-top can in her hand. Flickering light from the TV made it hard to see what she was doing, slowing her down when she was already out of time. Alert to sounds of Mike moving behind her, she worked as fast as she could.

Mike was awake but he felt very drunk, just lifting his head to check on where the bitch went was a hard chore. His fucking eyes didn’t want to open, but he forced them into slits allowing him to see Skeeter standing at the sink. He felt a vague sense of forgetfulness, like he was forgetting something important, but he couldn’t wrap his mind around what it was. He couldn’t remember what it was he had to do but he did know that it was important. Fear of not knowing forced his mind into self-defense mode and he came through the foggy mist of his memories to the here and now.

Anger helped bring Mike’s mind back, helped him remember. His mind cleared. What the fuck was taking so long with the beer? Hoping the cold beer might revive him, he sat up and reached across the bed to grab the nightshirt she was wearing.

With no time to wipe the pill-dust from her hands, she let them slide down the wet can, the white crumbs like gravel under her fingers. Mike was too far gone to notice, she was sure, but she still sent a personal plea to God to numb his fingers to the grittiness on the can. Yielding to the tug on her shirt she turned with the beer, confidently hopeful that in a few minutes he would be out like a light and she would be gone.

“Here you go baby, you just lay there and suck on this while I lay down here and suck on this.” She let her hands slip down his barrel chest, looking up into his face. Smiling, she wet her lips with her tongue slowly running it around the oval of her open mouth.

His hard little pig like eyes glared at her from behind the cheap black plastic frames of his thick glasses. His big red face was split by a mean grin that revealed his large square teeth stained brown and yellow from his snuff. Skeeter remembered how he looked that first night they met, how they bonded. Well, yeah, they fucked first but afterward they had lain together and talked. It was really special, she would always think of that first night as when she had fallen in love with Big Mike. And now it had come down to this.

Holding the beer in one hand he pushed her head south with the other, his voice a mean whisper, his hand painfully twisting her hair. “Yeah bitch, you gonna suck me alright but not all the way. You gonna suck me back up hard again and then I gonna fuck your tight little ass. I ain’t forgot what I promised you.”

The first time he had threatened her with dry fucking her in the ass, she had thought he was bluffing. She had bled out the ass for the next four days. She would never allow that to happen to her again.

Skeeter let her mouth accept the hard member as her husband pushed her head down on it. She started to suck, wanting to make him lay back and drink his beer while she did his bidding.

Working her mouth on his dick she let her mind consider why the first four pills hadn’t knocked his ass out by now. Three more should do it, although she had hated to use her last one on the asshole. If she could get him to lay quiet for fifteen minutes he would have to pass out. She settled into a slow, deep stroking routine, sucking to soothe rather than excite.

Soon she felt his hand relax a bit, giving her back control of her movements. She bobbed deeper onto the shaft and lingered there letting him feel the muscles in her throat work on him. Coming up slowly she put her tongue in overdrive swirling and licking the sensitive underside of his cock. She stole a glance over his big gut to see him turning up the can and sucking the suds from it. He lowered his head and their eyes locked for an instant.

Skeeter saw hate in those eyes, she saw pain in those eyes, but there was no mercy there for her. She saw the desire to hurt her, the lust for revenge in those eyes. The old fashion self-righteous looks that the witches used to see just before the fire was lit. That was the expression; smug in his power as her husband, he was feeling justified in doing as he pleased. He really was going to dry fuck her in the ass, what he called a ‘punishment fuck’. He believed it was the best way to train a woman, “gets their head right while it gets my rocks off”, he liked to say.

She sucked even more lovingly; if she could just get him to lie still for a few more minutes. Since Brent had called, Mike had started hitting the Lord Calvert hard. Mostly he just drank his beer and passed out, but when he drank hard liquor he was a mean drunk, shouting and slapping her around over any little thing. Now with the thing about her stealing Brent’s pills and selling them coming out and all, he was really pissed. Skeeter shivered as she thought how mean he could get; she put all she had into the blow job sucking for her life.

She sank her face onto his shaft taking the entire thing down her throat, holding still and motionless except for her tongue, which she swirled around his hardness, caressing all sides. Knowing how much Mike loved this, she stayed down as long as she could, until she had to have some air. She started to rise but felt his hand over the back of her head, holding her down with his cock in her throat and her nose in his pubic hair.

“I’m gonna give you a chance to show me how sorry you are for what you did today.” Big Mike stopped talking and watched Skeeter’s face, her eyes wide as she listened to him talk.

“You just keep sucking, that’s all you got to do.”

Air made a rude fart-like noise as she tried to breathe with her nose pressed so hard into his flesh. He had given her a command and now she had to do her best to obey it, or at least act like it until the pills kicked in, which should be soon.

Big Mike looked down at the woman he loved, catching her looking up to him, fear and acceptance in her eyes. Pleading with her eyes, she kept sucking and swallowing, milking and fucking his cock even as she began to pass out from lack of air. He held her until her eyes closed and her struggles quit. Then he pulled her head from his dick, and gently let it rest against his thigh. She was beautiful, and he loved her. For a moment Mike’s eyes went soft as he watched her.

‘If only I could trust her,’ he thought.

With her eyes closed and the peaceful expression that her face had relaxed into, Skeeter seemed to be asleep. He reached a hand down to the hem of her shirt and pulled the cloth up to her neck, revealing her body completely. She was fine. She was like a miniature woman, weighing only 95 lbs and standing only four foot eight inches tall. Her breast were perfect, they were small but on her small body they looked like they were more than enough for any man.. Her stomach was flat and his eyes followed the gently curving flow of her body to the area between her legs. Her little clean shaven pussy was the finest one he had ever seen. Her hair was her most striking feature flowing in soft curls, it ran down to below her shoulders.

His eyes beheld her beauty while his mind saw what a thief and liar she was.

In his heart he wanted to hold her and tell her how much she meant to him, but experience had taught him that he couldn’t trust her. She would say anything to get what she wanted from him. Skeeter had a lie ready for whatever happened to her; she always had a story ready to confuse the issue. Talking to her was useless because the con-artist in her would not let her really listen; instead of trying to understand his point of view she would be forming her reply to show him she was right.

But she wasn’t right and she had to learn that some things were too far across the line to let slide.

Now not only had she stolen from one of his best friends, but when she got herself caught she asked his friend what she had to do for him to let her go and not say anything. When her offer was refused the wild little bitch had slapped Brent and got by him and out the door with the bottle of pills. She had sold the pills, thirty lori-tab-10′s at least a hundred and fifty dollars worth, and spent all the money without giving him a cent of the cash. And that was just today’s damage but she was out there fucking people right and left both figuratively and literally to support her damn habit. Day after day, her full time job was being a crack whore.

He could feel her breath on his balls as she came back to consciousness loudly sucking air into her lungs. He gave her a minute to catch her breath. Once she could breathe again and her mind functions had recovered enough to think clearly, Skeeter tried to talk to Mike. But Big Mike wasn’t in the mood to listen instead he viciously jerked her head back by her hair. The pain brought tears to her eyes but she kept silent.

She believed him when he told her, “Don’t be trying to drag this thing out or by God I will let you choke on my dick.”

He pulled her head back into his crotch.

Skeeter started to work her head up and down his shaft doing everything she could to make him like it, keep him in the game until it was too late to do anything to her. She knew the pills were kicking in now because in spite of everything she could do she felt him softening in her mouth. To make it even worse, he could tell it too; she could only hope that he didn’t put everything together.

“You know for all the practice you get, you ain’t much of a cocksucker. You ain’t worth a fuck for nothing are you?” Big Mike growled, wrapping her hair twice around his hand. Uncertainties filled his mind but he knew she wasn’t going to get away.

Anger filled him but he couldn’t remember why but he knew she had done something bad.

‘Damn her,’ he thought and pushed her mouth into his crotch.

Rubbing her face in his pubic hairs he turned her head enough that he could see one of her eyes. There was no fear there. Bitch should be afraid, instead she was checking him out, looking for signs of weakness in his face.

‘What the hell?’

He lay back against the pillow letting her hair trail through his fingers as he relaxed, letting it go. He was angry with her but he felt so fucking tired, felt himself slipping into sleep.

Skeeter knew that she had him now, all she had to do was keep him calm and still for a few more minutes and she would be home free. She went back into sucking to soothe mode, her hand started rubbing his leg like she might rub a gator’s belly to put it to sleep.

Another five minutes passed as she slowly stroked him with her mouth, before she heard Mike give a snorting sort of a snore. She stopped. Holding still as a bunny she waited until he was sleeping peacefully again, and then eased off the bed.

Surveying the small trailer didn’t take long. It was a camper with a front living room, a small kitchen, a bathroom and a small bedroom in the back. The roof leaked in the back bedroom so they never used it, keeping the door closed. The bathroom sat right behind the kitchen, it was a small closet sized space where the toilet sat inside the shower. The living room had a couch at one time but now it contained only a king-size mattress lying on the floor. It filled the living room completely pressing against the cabinets in the kitchen like water against the shore. She let her eyes scan the piles of dirty clothes piled everywhere, looking for his pants.

‘Oh my God,’ thought Skeeter when she spotted the pants against the wall on the other side of the bed. The only way to get them was to climb over Mike and crawl over to the wall. She knew that the smart move would be to sit in the bathroom for a few more minutes, give the pills time to really get a grip on him, get in his blood, but that wasn’t the way she was made, she thought as she started to reach over Mike’s legs with her hands. She always took the risk, needing the thrill, enjoying the rush.

Her heart was hammering as she slowly worked her way to the pants and started to go through the pockets. She took all the money, not taking the time to count it; she took the food-stamp card. And last, she smiled as she took the truck keys. Holding her loot in one hand she reached across Mike again, following with her leg reaching across him also. On her toes and hands she was now above and astraddle Mike. Slowly she shifted her weight as she pulled her remaining limbs across the sleeping man, feeling the bed shift as she did. Her foot hit the floor she started to rise, relief flowed through her.

Like a snake striking, Big Mike reached out and grabbed her arm. Skeeter tried to pull away but he was too strong and she felt herself drawn back toward the bed, the keys and money still in her hand.

“You fucking thief, you sorry fucking piece of shit,” he was bellowing, fully awake now and really pissed off.

She grabbed the only thing she could find, a six pack of beer with the plastic ring empty from where a can was gone. Using the empty ring like a handle she swung the five full cans of beer in a roundhouse swing that exploded against the side of Mike’s head, spattering blood and beer over the walls and bed. Big Mike was stunned but he held on to her arm as he fell back onto the beer soaked bed.

Skeeter fell to the cold wet bed with a moan of despair, seeing her plans going to ruin, her chance of avoiding the pain and suffering that Mike had planned for her rapidly slipping away.

Big Mike felt the shock of the cold beer as well as the impact of the beer cans but both sensations seemed to be bubble-wrapped in numbness. His poor mind trying to cope with an alcoholic overload at the same time it was slipping down the greased rails of a drug overdose. He knew she had doped him up. Feeling as though he was underwater he grabbed her by the hair. His knife was on the bed from where she had cleaned out his pockets, so he picked it up. He pulled the hair until it was stretched across the bed above her head. He started to saw the knife across the hair cutting and tearing it out with each stroke of the knife.

Skeeter grabbed his hands but with her arms over her head and her small size Mike had no trouble over powering her efforts and she felt her hair being torn and cut from her head. She screamed, she pleaded and begged, she tried to stop his hands but she was afraid to get too close to the blade and his forearms would not be stopped by her hanging on to them.

“You fucking whore! You fucking whore!”

Mike had other things that he wanted to tell her, but it was hard for him to form the words when he spoke. He retreated into silence, leaving it to her to make all the noise with her begging and pleading, he concentrated on stealing the hair that she loved. The knife passed through the last of the hair and sliced into the mattress. He held a handful of hair but that was all he held, Skeeter was loose. Knowing that she had beaten him again really pissed him off but he was too far gone to do anything about it.

Skeeter fell to the floor, she was free, and she had the loot in her hand, she leaped over the corner of the bed and went out the door. Safely out of reach she turned and watched as Big Mike just leaned to the side and fell over, a great amount of her red hair in one hand and his knife in the other.

Rushing to the back of Mike’s truck she twisted the wires together that ran the tail lights he had duct taped to the tailgate. No lights came on. “What the fuck?” she said to herself and then remembered they had an electrical short somewhere and Mike always disconnected the battery whenever he parked the truck. Skeeter rushed around to open the hood and reconnect the cables, smiling again when she heard the fuel pump hum to life. Climbing up into the truck she turned the key and the motor started with an explosive roar. Skeeter didn’t give a shit now, even if Mike woke up and came outside, she wasn’t stopping.

She left the yard with clumps of grass and clogs of dirt in the air behind her, both rear tires spinning as she had her knee locked and her short leg stretched to the max, pedal pressed firmly to the floor. The despair and fear drained from her, letting a smile flash across her face; she was free and Mike was down for the count.

The kaleidoscope that was her life clicked into another pattern now. Big Mike and his anger over the stolen pills had been replaced by a new set of dangers. She had lost her driver’s license over non payment of child support and now she was driving a truck with no mufflers and bad tail lights. Other than the thin nightshirt she had on, she was naked. She stank of beer and the wet nightshirt chilled her as the wind hit it making her nipples into two small erections. Somehow she needed to get rid of the truck, get some clothes and get some crack.

Smelling like a brewery, Skeeter headed for Diane’s trailer. Diane wasn’t a friend she was just somebody who liked crack and would always go along if she was going to be sharing the hits. Until the money and crack were gone she would be like a friend and do what she could. Once the crack and money was gone she would swear she knew nothing about where the money came from, and be happy to help Big Mike find his good for nothing wife. But right now Diane was all she had so she pulled the truck around back of the trailer and went around to knock on the door.

Twenty minutes later she was freshly showered and wearing borrowed clothes. They took Diane’s car and went to the dealer for a hundred dollar rock and headed back to Diane’s place, where they smoked and talked. Using a pair of sewing scissors Diane tried to trim her ragged hair into some sort of order, but there wasn’t much to work with.

Her whole life was like that, not much to work with. Now she was on her own. Now she had to make a plan. Mike would be out of it until at least ten o’clock, so she had a four hour head start. What should she do, where should she go? All her friends were here, her dealers were here. She pointed Mike’s old truck toward the bright spot in the sky that marked where the sun would soon appear and drove east, into the sunrise of her uncertain new life.

September 2018
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