I turned and somersaulted through the window, falling about four feet, and landing flat on my back, knocking the wind right the hell out of me. I staggered to my feet and while clutching my throbbing, broken hand to my chest, I slipped into the shadows and began to work by way down the side of the building to the cover of the woods that bordered the back of the hospital. There was only one light on in any of the cells. It was Wes Dibley's, the resident evil genius and mad bomber. Locked down for trying to blow up a bank, he was the one who had given Norm the idea about using the Right Guard as a blow torch. He was stark naked and was standing in his toilet bowl, a Playboy in one hand, his dick in the other. His head turned slowly towards me, like it was on a swivel, like he was a fucking owl. He gave me a slight nod and a smile and turned back to his fun. I ran into the woods. When I broke free of the woods on the other side I came out on to a county road. Following Norm's directions, I stayed down low in the ditch and ran south about two miles to a closed Exxon station. Behind the station, a beat up old Cadillac was idling with it's lights off. When I walked up in front of the car, the lights came on, blinding me. I heard the door open.
"Did Spider send you?" The voice was
female."That's me," I whispered.
"Well, get in cowboy. You can drive."
Sliding over into the passenger seat was a
woman child who was crack whore thin and had the
teeth to match. Her hair was spiked up in a punk
fashion and she must have had thirty facial
piercings. Her face looked like it was made out of
aluminum and every inch of skin on her that I could
see was covered in amateurish jailhouse tattoos. She
was smoking a huge fatty that she was washing
down with a peach wine cooler.
I put the car in gear. "Where to?" I was
sweating like a whore in church and smelled worse.
"Keep going south about four miles and
we'll catch the interstate into the city." She passed
me the joint.
"Are you Norm's wife?"
She laughed like a little girl. "Me? Norm's
wife? Hell no! If he screwed me he'd crush my
bones to dust." She giggled again. "Norm has a little
dick anyway."
That was about all she seemed to want to
talk about that and I wasn't real interested in the size
of Norm's crank or his sex life so I let the subject
drop. I needed to calm down anyway. She popped a
CD in the stereo and cranked up some kind of death
metal shit so loud I thought my ears would start
bleeding. As I pulled onto the interstate she slid
over next to me, unzipped my fly, pulled out my
crank, and slid her lips over the head of it. I groaned
as my eyes rolled back into my head and I had to
fight to keep the car on the road. In spite of the
situation - I had just broken out of a mental hospital
- I felt myself wanting to cum immediately.
She sat back up. "Oh no you don't." She
reached into her purse and pulled out a vial of white
powder. Licking the head of my dick she tapped out
a small pile of the coke onto it and rubbed it all over
the head, numbing it.
"Mmmmm. That's much better." She started
in again, blowing me all the way to Minneapolis.
"What the hell took you so fucking long you
scrawny crank bitch?"
We were standing in this incredibly nasty,
filthy house trailer, just north of Minneapolis, that
smelled like extreme body odor, cat piss, pot, and
Old English 800 malt liquor. And standing in the
kitchen screaming at us was this enormous, bleach
blonde woman, that I figured out quickly was
Norm's wife. She wasn't wearing a shirt or a bra,
just a pair of dirty jeans, and her giant tits were
completely covered with a massive Harley
Davidson tattoo. As she moved around they swayed
like bowling balls. I'll bet the bed she and Norm
bone-danced on had to be reinforced with cinder
blocks. She reached out and grabbed Cathy's face
with a grizzly bear sized paw. Cathy being the
woman that had picked me up.
"Did you fuck him? Huh? Is that what took
you so long?"
Cathy giggled. "No, Glenda. I just blew
him."
Glenda slapped her hard across the face and
then turned and glared at me. I felt as if I was
locked in a pen with an insane Doberman.
She shook Cathy's head like a dog shaking a
rat and pointed at me with her free hand. "Now you
listen to me you bag of shit. Cathy is off limits to
you, you understand? You touch her one more time
you'll find your balls in my martini glass and your
ass floating in a swamp. I don't give a shit what
Norm says."
She turned back to Cathy. "Strip down and
get on the couch," she ordered.
Without a word, Cathy stripped down, she
was even scrawnier naked, and knelt on the couch,
doggie fashion, while Glenda walked to the back of
the trailer. When she came back out, she had taken
off her Levis and was strapping on a huge black
dildo.
"Sit your ass down in that chair, asshole. I
want you to watch this."
Pushing a sleeping, mangy cat and a couple
of empty Budweisers out of the way, I eased myself
down into a recliner.
Spitting in her hand, Glenda lubed up the
fake dick and shoved it hard into Cathy's ass. The
scrawny creature cried out in agony. No pretense on
foreplay there. Glenda looked over her shoulder at
me. "Don't you think about fucking with me! We
own you, you piece of shit. Don't ever forget that." I
could hardly hear her over Cathy's screams of pain.