The rhythmic thumping informed Jaime Buske the tire was about to
go. She turned the car slowly off the highway where a blue sign told her
she would find a gas station.
She drove down the county route for what must have been ten miles. There was no sign of the gas station, just a thick pine wood. The tire complained less frequently, but no less intensely. She grabbed her cell phone; the little screen told her she was out of range to make a call. She cursed.
Life was not going Jamie’s way. First she looses her job, went to Atlanta to follow a lead that hadn’t panned out. Now she was on her way to New Orleans after another prospect with only enough cash to pay for a few nights in the cheapest of motels. Her boyfriend had left her, her creditors were hot on her trail. If she had a dying dog, she might be a great subject for a country music song. The circles under her eyes informed the outside world she had not slept well for the past month for worry of what the future might bring, or worse yet, not bring.
As she made her mind up to turn around and make for the highway again, Jamie saw that the pine trees gave way to a clearing: a gravel driveway led off the main road to an austere road house. She winced. She hadn’t seen “Easy Rider” or “Deliverance”, but she knew enough about them not to trust isolated places in the deep South. And this was Alabama after all.
There was a bang like a gunshot as Jamie made a u turn. She sank into her seat and then knocked her head softly against the steering wheel in frustration; her luck wasn’t getting any better.
Biting her lip, she looked up at the roadhouse: she could either try to get help there or on the road. She decided to take her chances on the roadhouse. She rode the rim a bit until the car was off the road and then walked up the gravel driveway to the ramshackle building.
She tried to be hopeful. It was 2003 after all. Beer-gutted, Bible-thumping inbred rednecks with a violent hatred of northerners were a thing of the past if they were existed at all. (Anyway, she was from the Midwest.) This placed probably had an internet connection and served lattes. God bless the new South!
She pushed open the door, letting the day’s twilight cut through the dimly lit bar that lay beyond. A burly man was leaning on the bar counter, wiping it with a rag; he looked up at the stranger, squinting against the light and frowning in irritation about being interrupted. A bit further down a woman was leaning against the jukebox, listening to Lynard Skynard or some other guitar heavy southern rock band.
“Excuse me, my car has a flat tire.” Jamie told the man. “Can you help me change it?”
“Ain’t no mechanic.” The man growled.
“O.k.” she replied, drawing out each syllable, “Do you have a phone I could use to call a garage?”
“Phone’s only for customers.”
“Great, I need a drink, I’ll have a beer.”
“Don’t sell beer on Sundays.”
“A coke then.”
The man pulled out a phone from beneath the counter and dropped it in front of her.
“Can you give me the number of a garage?”
The man reached beneath the counter again, this time pulling out a phone book with the thickness of a magazine. He plopped it in front of her and then strolled down the bar to pour her soda.
Jamie flipped the phonebook’s pages, found the appropriate yellow pages, and dialed a few numbers finally getting a mechanic who spoke as fast as a word a minute. He told her he would get there in a couple of hours; she told him she would be waiting. She let the receiver fall on the hook and sighed. Some things had not changed. This place moved with the swiftness of molasses.
“Sugah, you look as out of place as a wedding dress at a funeral.” Chirped a high pitched childish voice honeyed by a southern drawl.
The woman at the jukebox had lost interest in the music and had wandered over to the barstool next to her. Jamie looked her over. First her eyes fell to her chest. This was not because Jamie had any natural proclivities for this area, but hers was just so…well big, enough to make Dolly Parton blush with envy. Her breasts strained against her Southern Comfort t-shirt, the fabric nearly transparent against her wide areolas and nipples. Looking up, the woman’s face was well painted, or rather pasted with make up, the coats made her look like a mannequin as they entirely hid her natural pallor. Her hair was obviously died blonde, not too recently as the roots were beginning to show. From her ears, hung pale golden hoops, perhaps three inches in circumference. The sparkle of her eyes was juvenile though Jamie thought she was probably in her late 20s. Looking down past her titanic mammaries, Jamie saw her forearms covered in wide cheap bracelets that clinked together like loose change when she moved. She was wearing tight bright red satin shorts and matching red heels.
“My car has a flat.” Jamie replied gruffly, more interested in wallowing in her misery than making a new friend.
“Awwwwww, that’s too bad. Hey, love your shirt. Where’d ya get it.”
“Ann Taylor.”
“Cool! Who is she?”
“It’s a store.” Jaime said firmly with condescension, thinking that a little rudeness might make this southern “belle” take a hint. “You probably don’t have them down here.”
The woman did note Jaimie’s tone with a wince, but was undeterred from making her acquaintance. She took out a pack of cigarettes, pulling one out with her teeth and then offering one to Jamie.
“Don’t smoke.” Jamie told her tersely.
The woman dropped the pack on the counter and lit up her cigarette.
“Do you mind!?” Jamie yelled, her face enwrapped with irritation
The woman looked hurt.
“Just leave me alone.”
“Just trying to be friendly.” The woman stammered. “My name is Betsy May.” Jamie glared. This woman needed more than a hint.
“Betsy, look, I don’t want a friend. If I did I wouldn’t want a ditzy girl like you. I just want to be alone. So be a good little girl and leave me alone!”
Betsy was obviously stung by the rebuke; tears welled up in her eyes.
Jamie grunted in exasperation, grumbling about idiot crackers and rednecks, in earshot of Betsy, and stomped off to the lady’s room.
“God get me out of this place!” She nearly screamed when she was by herself.
She was not alone for long. The door squeaked behind her after it had closed. Jaimie turned to find Betsy had followed her.
“You shouldn’t be so mean…you meany!” Betsy yelled at her as she raised a hand.
Jamie crossed her arms.
“How many times do I have to tell you! Leave me alone, you white trash bitch!”
The woman surged forward. Jamie tried to knock the girl down, but Betsy was too quick, almost catlike in her movements, even in high heels. Betsy wrapped her arms around Jamie’s and pressed her lips against hers. Jamie squealed as she felt the girl’s tongue wrestling with her own. She tried to push the girl away. Lifting her hands Betsy’s side, she pushed, her motion as too weak. Something was happening to her. She felt that quiver in her stomach, that pang of desire just before she made love, growing, filling her loins with shuddering heat. She responded to the tonguelock, lovingly twisting Betsy’s with her own. Her voice was humming as if she was enjoying something delicious. Betsy released her lip lock to kiss her Jamie’s neck, yet forcing the woman back, lifting her up on the sink.
“What…are…you…doing…to meeeeee.” Jamie whispered. Betsy ignored her, she was kissing her way down Jamie’s chest, undoing the buttons to her blouse, and then reaching into her bra to caress her hardening breasts.
Jamie was leaning uncomfortably against the mirror above the sink, letting the woman work her, sighing uncontrollably from the rapture that was now surging through her.
Undoing Jamie’s bra and dwelling on her tits for just a few moments with her tongue, Betsy was down Jamie’s quivering belly, sliding her pants and panties off, bumping Jamie uncomfortably against the wall. Jamie hardly noticed, biting her lips as she waited for the stroke she knew would come next.
“Yes…yes…oh …suck ..suck me!!!” “Jaimie urged.
Betsy complied, rolling her tongue up and down Jamie’s clit, driving her wild. Jamie moaned louder and louder, running hand through her ling red hair.
“Yes…YES…OHGOD…YESSSS!!!” Jamie shrieked as Besty brought her to climax and then all went black.
Jamie sat up. She was lying on a plush red heart shaped bed. The room its self was large, fierce adorned with paintings too saccharine for even Thomas Kincaid and furniture that looked like rejected models from the 1970s.
“Where the hell am I!?” Jamie exclaimed.
A door opened in response to Jamie’s voice. Two women entered and looked at her with a mix of curiosity and nervousness. One was a tall olive skinned brunette, the other longhaired blonde. Both were dressed as Jamie was, cut off t-‘s and skimpy shorts.
“Come on, Susan,” The brunette said in a audible but cautious whisper. “Lets get out of here..”
“Kim, we can’t leave her here.” The blonde replied. “After all we’ve been through I don’t want to have anyone else suffer if I can help it.”
Susan rushed to Jamie’s side, taking her arm.
“Come on, get up! You got to move.”
Kim stomped her foot. “No! We’ll never get away. You want to help her you take your own chances, I am out of here.”
“Kim! Don’t. You have to help me.” Hissed Susan as she pulled Jamie’s limp body up. The plea was ignored; Kim ran away.
“What’s going on? Where am I? Why am I dressed like this? Who are you?”
Susan shook Jamie to bring her fully to her senses.
“We’re prisoners of Betsy May, that woman who brought you here. She has powers or something…she is psychic or whatever. Anyway, she can control who you are and what you do. Kim and I finally managed to break her control, but if we don’t escape now, she’ll bring us back under.”
Susan lugged Jamie a few paces when they heard Kim’s high-pitched scream. It was cut off abruptly.
“Betsy May!” Susan whispered.
She pulled Jamie back to the bed, taking her in her arms and cradling her.
“Don’t say a word. Don’t even think one. Just play along! Maybe we can fool her into letting us be.” Susan told Jamie in a hushed voice. Jamie was still too dazed and too confused to do anything else but comply.
Betsy May appeared in the doorway. She gestured to Kim, who barged into the room as if she were being pushed by some unseen force. Jamie didn’t know how, but she figured that Kim’s movements were controlled by this strange woman. Kim’s face was contorted in terror; her mouth was empty of words.
“Whacha doin?” Betsy May asked in a childlike voice, but it was one devoid of innocence and seething with malice.
Susan smiled.
“Takin’ care of the new girl, Miss Betsy.” She replied, her voice was much higher than just a few minutes earlier. Her words dripped with an exaggerated southern drawl.
Betsy’s eyes narrowed in suspicion; her smile, however, did not fade.
“Such a good girl you are Susie, poosie. Not like this bitch!”
Betsy put her arms around Kim.
“Yeah, ah’m talking about you bitch. Take off your clothes.”
Kim slowly stripped, discarding her clothes, dropping them to form a pile.
“You know how to act like bitch!. So act like one!”
With these words Kim suddenly fell to all fours. Her eyes told of protest; her mouth could not join in. Though she opened it, no words came out. Only a bark, a bark like a human pretending to be a dog. Her jaw went slack, letting her tongue spill out of her moth, where it lolled from her lips. She started to pant. She looked up at Betsy with pleading eyes. Betsy replied with by pointing a finger in a direction beyond the doorway.
“Into the corner, bitch!!”
Kim held her head low and whimpered. She crawled away as ordered.
Betsy May closed the door, turning her full attention to the woman holding the other on the bed.
“Are you a bitch too Susie Jane?”
“No, Miss Betsy, I am a good girl.”
“You don’t talk like a good girl, Susie Jane, ah think your conditioning needs a little freshening up.
Betsy focused on Susan, raising her hand toward her. Susan shot up from the couch, standing as straight as arrow, her neck thrust back, almost as if someone were holding her at the throat.
“I am Susan…I am Susan…I…am…Susan” She said over and over mechanically, her pupils zipping to the right and left, over and over.
“I…Susie…I am Susie…Jane…I am Susie Jane, I be Susie Jane, I be Susie Jane.”
Betsy lowered her arm; at the same time, Susie Jane relaxed. She breathed a sigh and giggled. Jamie remained on the bed, both amazed and confused by what had just transpired.
“Susie here used to be a real big shot. Use to be some big shot lawyer up in New York. Now she is just a dumb ole down home southern girl.” Betsy May informed Jamie.”
Susie Jane frowned.
“Am not! You may have dumbed me down, Ms. Betsy, but ah still be me! Ah be a lawyer, ah done been to Har…lawyerin’ school, and took a lawyerin’ test and all. Ah still be me!” Susie Jane yelled. Her southern accent was not affected now; she sounded as if she had been born and bred in Alabama
“Do smart lawyer girls like Jerry Springer? Jerry Springer is on.”
Susie Jane furrowed her brow for just a moment and then smiled, clasping her hands together.
“Can ah go watch Jerry Springer. Miss Betsy? Ah do so love Jerry Springer!””
Betsy waved Susie Jane out, leaving her alone with Jamie.
“She was some hotshot asshole that hit my car and tried to blame me for it. So ah took her and bimboized her. Now she serves me and mah customers. Kimmie Sue, she was a stock broker or something. Budged ahead of me in line in the Quickie Mart. So ah took her and took her down a few pets. All you fuckin’ city bitches bein’ so mean and thinkin’ you’re all so smart. Thinkin’ you can push me around. Now ah push around these two. You too now.”
“What did I do to you?” Jamie stammered.
“You fuckin’ pissed me off is what you did. Ah try to be nice and friendly and you just dump on me like you some big shot. You ain’t nuthin’ and ah’m gonna show you that, sure nuff.”
Betsy raised her arm.
Jamie found her body jump up and stand as Susan had done.
“I am Jamie Buske, I am Jamie Buske, I am Jamie Buske.” She chanted.
Jamie squirmed in her mind. She could feel Betsy moving through her memories, thoughts, desires, wants, like a customer goes through a vegetable stand, picking up and feeling the items she found, squeezing them to test them, to get to know them. Jamie was helpless to stop her; she tried desperately to concentrate, to push that force wandering through the crevices of her mind out. Her efforts were to no avail; she could do nothing to stop Betsy. After taking the grand tour, Betsy began to alter Jamie’s personality, bringing forward some thoughts and impressions while pushing others farther back into subconscious. Restraint went back, replaced by lust and desire and an instant need for gratification. The capacity to form complex thoughts was reduced, to the point where Jamie would find it incredibly hard to maintain an attention span beyond the most simple concepts. Vanity and love of her body was increased; her natural humility and modesty torn from her soul as if it had never been there. The alterations were subtle, Jamie could
“You won’t do this to me!” Jamie shouted defiantly in her mind; this was in fact all she could do as Betsy remodified it. “I know who ah am! You won’t make me become somebody else!”
I am Jamie Buske…I am…Jamie Busk…I am Jamie…Lynn…I am Jamie Lynn, I be Jamie Lynn.” She began to repeat the name triumphantly, even as she did so with a definite twang.
Betsy receded from Jamie’s mind, letting the woman back into control.
“See ah told you Miss Betsy, you ain’t gonna make me anything ah don’t wanna be. Ah am Jamie Lynn, the best piece of ass in the county!”
Betsy looked up at the ceiling and shrugged her shoulders in mock defeat.
“You ain’t gonna get rid of me so easy Miss Betsy. Ah am gonna get me some hot guys and have a good ole time!”
“You figured me out Jamie Lynn. Why don’t you go watch t.v. with Susie Jane.”
“Shit, ah need a smoke. You got any cigs Miss. Betsy? I’ll just die if ah don’t get a fuckin’ smoke.”
“In the other room dear.”
Jamie Lynn sauntered into the living room. It was large, adorned with a orange shag rug, plaid couches and chairs set up around t.v. A coffee table lay in the middle of all these things covered with ashtrays full of cigarette butts and empty beer cans. The flavor of tobacco was in the air. Susie Jane was sitting with her legs drawn up on the couch, watching tv. Kim was lying prone on the floor in a corner, her head on her hands, her tongue still hanging out of her mouth.
Jamie snapped up an errant cigarette and lighter, lighting up and puffing some more nicotine into the air. She looked Susie over as if it were the first time they had met, in reality Jamie Lynn was sizing up the competition. Susan had bigger tits, but Jamie was more toned. She figured breasts like that would always get the guys, but her rack wasn’t inconsiderable and besides, she looked like a real thoroughbred. How was she in the sack? Jamie Lynn wanted to know.
“Whacha watchin’” Jamie said curiously.
“Springer.” Replied Susie Jane without removing her stare from the tv.
“Looks stupid.”
“You’re stupid!” Susan shot back petulantly.
“Lets do something fun.” Jamie said, standing in front of the tv set to block Susie Jane’s view.
‘Hey!” Susie Jane protested.
Jamie Lynn, lifted her arms and pulled off her t-shirt, slowly. She brought down her arms, pulling off her shorts and tiny lace panties so she was completely nude. She took a deep inhale of her cigarette, strode over to Susan Jane, kissed her, pressing the smoke inside of her. Susie Jane savored it and exhaled. When Jamie Lynn pulled off Susie Jane’s shirt she did nothing to protest. Nor did she do anything to stop Jamie from pulling off her shorts.
Jamie pressed the nude woman on the couch, kissing her breasts playfully, rinning her fingers over Susie Jane’s moistening cunt. She shoved in a finger, than another, using her thumb to toy with the hardening clit, rising out the soft enclosure of its hood.
“Uhhh…one more…one more finger…fill me!’ Susie Jane groaned.
Jamie Lynn smiled as she complied, rubbing the clit even faster. Then she replaced her hand job with her mouth, kissing the cunt lips of Susie Jane, savoring her juices, her tongue stroking the straining clit. Susie Jane shrieked with pleasure
“Wanna…eeeeee…taste you.”
Without releasing Susie’s crotch from her tongue assault, Jamie pivoted so that she could crouch her dripping cunt over Susie Jane’s face so that that woman could return the favor. Slowly their faces pressed into the crotch of the other, literally smothering themselves in their lovers’ gentalia. There moans of ecstasy growing and growing as both came and collapsed into each other. After moments of panting exhaustion, the hugged and licked their juice from the others face.
They held eachother for hours, watching television, from Springer, to Judge Judy, to cartoons, to reruns of Drew Carry. They laughed and joked and made crude comments, only getting up to get a cigarette or a beer or some cold fried chicken from the fridge. Slowly a small spark burned in Jamie’s mind.
“What’s done happened to me. This ain’t right” Jamie groaned.
“Its like ah told you. Betsy May done dumbed us. Can’t think straight for nuthin’. So hard…can’t do anythin’. Just wanna watch tv and fuck.”
“Gots…to…try…to…scape.” Jamie growled as she struggled to form her thoughts, she staggered up, focusing on the door to the outside. And just as she did, she saw an old copy of “People” on the floor. Was that Cameron Diaz? Look at those great clothes. Escape disappeared from her mind; she picked up the magazine and flipped through it, occasionally mouthing the words of a caption. It turned out she did not have the attention span to read an article.
“Hey girls, look who’s here!” Betsy May declared, opening the door to reveal a group of four leering me. Susie Jane and Jamie Lynn were still naked, but were oblivious to that fact. Susie bolted for one of the man, giggling and laughing, dragging him away to a corner of the room. The appearance of the visitors had jogged Jamie’s brittle control over her body and mind. She could tell what these men wanted; she didn’t want to offer it to them or did she. She was shaking, shivering.
Betsy took two other men to enjoy Kim, rousing her on to her hands and knees. Grunts, groans and moans soon emerged from the corner where the woman was kept. Jamie Lynn could see that poor Kim was being mounted from behind and impaled down her throat. Originally, she appeared terrified but slowly she melted into complete ecstasy.
“You’re the new girl. I’m Wes.” The last man said, eyeing Jamie with obvious intent.
“Ah…ah…ain’t that kinda girl!” Betsy offered in anticipation of what the man wanted. Still, his look, his gaze as he inspected her body, the appreciation of it she found settled in his glance pleased her. Why was she feeling this way? She knew she wasn’t the kind of woman to feel this way?
Wes ignored her taking off his shirt. His ribbed stomach captivated her, she could feel a longing building within her, a desire to touch and be touched. The longing was easily crowding out thoughts of resistance.
Wes grabbed Jamie Lynn about the waist, drawing her closer to him.
“Cum on my little southern slut, that’s who you are.”
“No!” She protested breathily. “Don’t! Ah ain’t that kind of girl”
His hands fell on her breasts, pinching her nipples, as her forced his tongue into her compliant mouth, returning the gesture with her own tongue drenched with saliva.
He broke the kiss just momentarily to ask, “You are my southern slut, aren’t you.”
“Please…I’ ain’t that kinda girl.” Jamie whispered, but it was a whisper of doubt as if she was beginning not to believe it.
Wes pushed her against a table, leaning her over it, so that her chest and forearms were down on the table top. He smacked her ass leaving a read print, and smacked it again. Jamie winced from the pain, she didn’t know what to do, but somehow, the feeling was adding to the intense feelings turning her on.
“You’re a southern slut, a tramp, a whore! Admit it” He taunted.
Jamie Lynn moaned in response. She wanted to say it, to agree, to tell him this was right, this was who she was. Right now. It didn’t matter if she had been made this way, if Betsy May had conjured this new lusty bitch from her own thoughts, this was who she was, this is what she enjoyed doing.
While she warred at herself, she felt something at her crotch, a tongue, he was tonguing her clit. He was driving her wild, to the brink… Then he was up again, smacking her ass, bringing her back from climax.
“Yeah, a nice southern slut.” Wes told her.
Jamie quivered beneath the man. The fire within her was an inferno. The ecstasy he had given and then taken away, the control he wielded, it was driving her wild, it would drive her insane if she didn’t submit. She couldn’t say why, it just was, it was who she was, it was who she was now, and she was enjoying it.
Wes drove himself into Jamie without mercy, his rocking driving her against the table, the pain and then the pleasure driving everything out of her mind.
“Yes!…YES…SLUT…AH BE A SLUT!!! A HORNY SLUT FUCK YOUR SLUT!!!!
Wes laughed as he slammed against her. He made her surge into orgasm, leading her there like a dog on a leash. She screamed when she came.
But that was not the end, Wes, disengaged only to plow his wet prick into Jamie’s tight ass, smacking it with his hands as he pumped away. He took her hair, and pulled it like the reins of a horse, letting her feel how utterly control he was. She saw Susie looking at her, from the corner of her eye, riding her man and squeezing her tits, she was; she had a knowing look for just a fleeting moment as if she too had been in the arms of this man, when she too had not yet had her mind totally submerged into the person Betsy May had made, as if she too had given in.
Jamie, gritted her teeth as she came,; she thought her brain would explode as her body tensed and then collapsed against the table. He came within her ass, his hot spunk coursing through her anal hole, warming it, bathing it. She took his last thrusts and giggled dreamily. Resistance and escape were all beyond her.
“Concentrate…” Jamie told herself.
“Oooo, what sexy clothes, maybe Ms. Betsy will give me some clothes like that. Ah just love lookin’ sexy.” Jamie Lynn blurted out as she read People.
“Con…concentrate…” Jamie told herself again.
“Oooo, George Clooney, ah just love George Clooney to pieces. He is such a hunk!” Jamie Lynn said aloud.
“Concentrate!” Jamie pleaded again to herself.
“Ole Georgey with a nine incher…mmmm now that would be mighty fine, wouldn’t it, Susie Jane?”
Susie Jane loosened her fixation on the football game she was watching to answer. “Girl, whatcha talkin’ bout. George Clooney ain’t nuthin’ but a fag. Get yourself a real man.” Susan returned to the game, not because she liked the sport, she couldn’t understand it like many things, she just loved seeing all those men run around in tight pants. She savored the bunn shots and imagined stroking one.
There was more going on in Susan’s brain than lust for a linebacker’s ass. Jamie could see the struggle in Susan’s eyes: the Harvard-schooled lawyer was fighting Betsy May’s conditioning with all the mental energy she possessed and still she could not break free. Somehow Jamie knew that Susan had been a strong willed woman in her original persona; if she could not break free of Betsy May’s control, what chance did Jamie have?
“Bullshit!” Jamie Lynn retorted as she turned a page and became entranced by television stars dressed up for the Emmies. She took a final drag on her cigarette, stamped it out and started another. Jamie hated smoking; Jamie Lynn could hardly live without it. Jamie Lynn could also do with some beer or liquor, but Betsy May didn’t keep that stuff in the house though somtimes her customers brought some over to party.
The sound of bubblegum popping momentarily distracted Jamie Lynn. She looked over at Kimmy Sue who was absently chewing gum; her eyes betrayed the vacuousness of her mind. Betsy May’s reduction of Kimmy Sueto a bitch in mind, a sex starved human beast, had broken her completely: she was Kimmy Sue now and forever. The life of the stockbroker she once had been was gone forever. Both Jamie and Susan knew if they stayed here much longer, they would be just like her.
Betsy May’s conditioning could be broken, Susan and Kim had done it only to be reduced again before they could escape. After that, their captor made a special effort to refresh the conditioning of all her girls. But after a few weeks Betsy May got sloppy; the refreshing became less and less frequent. Maybe Betsy May just forgot (she wasn’t too bright herself) or maybe she was planning to slap her girls down just has they came close to shedding their bimboization (she was that devious). Whatever the reason, Jamie Lynn found her old consciousness slowly being able to reassert itself. Not by much though: it was as if she were underwater and only her lips had pierced the surface.
“Hey girls! How are y’all.” Betsy May chirped as she entered the house. Two men were right behind her. Jamie knew one of them: Wes, the man that had used her so expertly on her first day at Betsy May’s, the man that made her scream she was a slut and made her believe it. Jamie hated him and Jamie Lynn loved him for it.
Jamie Lynn jumped up and slid over to Wes, pressing her chest against his. Jamie cringed mentally inside her head, competing with the feelings of desire that Jamie Lynn savored as she felt his arm around her waist and she slid a hand up and down his crotch.
Jamie held on to the toehold of control even as she let Jamie Lynn go full throttle. She had to act as she was expected to act; if she let Betsy May suspect that she was reasserting herself, her captor would cast her consciousness back into the abyss from which it had clawed its way out.
“Hey sugah,” Jamie Lynn told Wes in deep voice, licking her lips slowly and batting her lashes. “Long time no see.”
Wes laughed harshly.
“Yeah, you’ll have to show how much you missed me, babe.”
“Susie Jane, Betsy May, go with these fine gentlemen and treat ‘em right nice. Me and Kimmy have somewhere to go.”
“That Kimmy Sue will make a fine Pit Bull girl, Betsy May, mighty fine.” Wes told Betsy May, “We’ll have these two back to you tomorrow after we’ve gotten some use out of them.”
Jamie had heard the Pit Bull mentioned before in Betsy May’s house. By its description, it was what was euphemistically called a "gentleman's club." As with most euphemisms there were more accurate names for the establishment: strip bar and whorehouse.
Wes led Jamie Lynn out to a blue Camero. They let the other couple sit in the back and then got in. Wes gunned the car and sped off into the darkness.
Jamie smiled stupidly at Wes while the other man groped the giggling Susie Jane.
“I can get through this.” She told herself. “I won’t be kept down.”
“I know what your thinking.” Wes told her.
“Huh?” Jamie Lynn responded.
“I said I know what your thinking. If Betsy May did her job right, she should have let the old you out of your bottle just a bit.”
“Ah dunno whacha mean.” Jamie Lynn told him as a coolness crept up her spine.
“Oh sure you do, sweetheart. Betsy May could squash your brain like a bug if she wanted to. She likes to give bitches like you a little leash so you can run a bit. Think on your own a little, like you were and then smack you down into what you are. Its like when I go fishing off the Georgia coast. You give the fish some line so he can tire himself before reeling him in. She lets me play too.”
Susie May leaned forward pushing a bottle of Southern Comfort in front of Jamie Lynn.
“Tee hee, gonna have fun tonight hon, have a suck.” She tittered
Jamie took a long drink. The sickeningly sweet drink burned her throat. She coughed a little, handed the bottle back and lit up a cigarette.
“Yeah, you’re probably thinkin’ `Oh I ain’t gonna play that game.” You better play sweetheart. Cuz if you aren’t interesting, Betsy May loses interest and when she loses interest, she gets rid of you. Like your friend Kimmy. She dumbs you down so much she don’t need to do it again. You’ll be so stupid you can’t string words into a sentence. Oh yeah, she makes you permanently horny as a bitch in heat. That way the Pit Bull gets a use out of ya.”
Jamie Lynn took a long drag on her cigarette.
”Yeah, fucking you is fun,” Wes mused. “But breaking you down is icing on the cake.”
Jamie tried to maintain composure. She wanted to run; she wanted to fall on the bed and spread her legs. Jamie and Jamie Lynn were sparring with oneanother. Wes let her alone a while, to just watch her; like a hunter getting ready to fire the shot that takes down the doe in his sights.
She sipped a glass of Southern Comfort, idly inspecting the surroundings.
In an instant, he was there behind her, his breath falling on her neck, his hands gently on her sides, nakedly exposed by her cut off t-shirt. Her skin tingled with Goosebumps.
“Tell me what you are. Tell me what you want.” He whispered.
“No!” She hissed. That was a mistake; he wanted resistance. It excited him. How much it excited him she could tell as his crotch was pressed up against her back.
He spun her around; she was like a doll in his powerful arms. He kissed his way down her chest, pulling down her shorts and delivered short bursts of breath on her thong covered crotch. She watched helplessly and swooned. The bastard, the fucking bastard! He was so fucking smooth. If he would just fuck her and get it over with she could get through this. But no, he wanted to make her suffer as he pushed her under; he wanted to dominate her totally, mentally and physically.
“Tell me what you are.” He whispered again. He swept her onto the bed, lifting off her t-shirt, unclasping her bra, then drawing off her thong. His powerful form kneeled over her, as he kissed and licked her curves, playfully drawing out moans and sighs.
“Oh mah gaaaaawwwwd…oh maaaaahhhh gaaaaaaawwwd!” She wept. It felt so good, he made it so good. And he was so bad, only a bad person could want this from someone like this. It was like he tearing away the onion-like layers was exposing who she really was.
“Uhhhh…please…ah…ah’ll do anythin’…just…don’t…ohhhhh…fuck me…fuck me…”
“You’ve told me what you want, now tell me what you are!”
Suddenly, he grew harsh, grabbing an arm and lashing it to one of the posts with a bit of rope. Quickly the other limbs were tied to the other posts; she lay before him spread-eagled and completely at his mercy. She strained at the ropes, letting them dig into her skin. The pain made her cry out.
He undid his pants; he took of his shirt, he stood naked before her, his prick bobbing from the sight of her. She couldn’t look away; she wanted that dick, to taste, to feel it, oh were these her feelings, were they Jamie Lynn’s she couldn’t tell, all there was in her was desire, unleashed and uncontained, and she was its servant.
“Betsy May told me all about you. You’re some prudish Midwestern girl. Keep your cunt clamped and are afraid of being touched. Don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t fuck. That’s you isn’t it?
He said this with his head pressed close to hers, his alcohol-stained breath bathing her face. She squirmed and tugged. That was her, that was what had been, he was right, that was Jamie. But now something in her did not want to be that way, she wanted to drink, to smoke and, especially, to fuck. That was Jamie Lynn; the personality was ready to explode out of her. With her last reservoir of strength she tried to fight it. She quivered as his tongue waltzed across her breasts; she writhed as he lifted up her waist by her buttocks and toyed with her dripping cunt with his own lips, his tongue stroking her engorged clit. Her body was betraying her, the warmth of ecstasy was seizing every pore, every cell of her being. And yet he would not let her cum.
“Ohhh…fuck…fuck me please fuck me…please…ah’ll do anything!”
“You ain’t no prude any more are you?” He hissed at her as he worked her.
“No..noooo….” He was right, the only thing she wanted was that hard piece of meat in her, driving into her like a battering ram, cleaving her cunt walls and driving her mad.
“What are you?”
Was he going to make her say it, if she admitted it, she knew what would follow. She would totally lose control, she would be gone, there would only be Jamie Lynn. She would be a passive observer in her own body as she acted the total dumb slut, subservient to anybody, man or woman, for a fuck.
“What are you?”
“Awww shit!”
The sound of him sucking her juices added to the joy he sent to her via her throbbing hot crotch. She wanted so badly to squeeze her tits, they were so hard she thought they might explode.
“Ah’m a slut, ah’m a slut, ah’m Jamie Lynn, a slut, and whore!!!!’ She shouted it as an affirmation. It excited her to admit; it added to the ecstasy.
Wes, smiled and then drove into Jamie Lynn, his slut and whore, banishing Jamie into oblivion.
“Jesus leave me alone you goddamned, redneck, cracker, son of a bitch!” Jamie cried out.
“What the hell?” Jamie thought to herself. As Jamie Lynn she could never had uttered that sentence. Something was different.
She opened her eyes; Susan standing over her. Her face showed the dogged determination of who she was in real life, not the blank television watching slate she was under Betsy May’s control.
“Good, your back!” Susan said exultantly.
Jamie rubbed her head, “What the fuck…ah mean…ah’m me! Mostly me…Still talking like a hick.”
Susan pulled her up. She spoke with a slight southern lilt, but not the full blown accent she had as Susie Jane.“That’s the alcohol. If you drink enough, it weakens your conditioning when you get your hangorver. I discovered that with Kim after a party here."
Jamie tried to remember the night before. She drank continually inbetween screwing individually and various combinations of Wes, Wes’ friend and Susie Jane before blacking out.
“You planned this to happen, didn’t you! You were feeding me drinks all night. How did you get enough control to do that?”
“We were turned into Southern bimbo tramps. Southern bimbo tramps like to drink. Its easy to assert control when the needs of the mind-fucked you and the real you are the same.”
“Great, now what do we do?”
Susan held up Wes’ car keys and a wad of cash.
“Wes and his buddy got so heavily medicated last night they won’t be up for hours. Lets get the fuck out of here!”
Jamie dressed hurriedly as she made her way out the door of Wes’ house. Susan was fumbling with the keys at the Camero when she turned to Jamie with a crestfallen look.
“Damn, the mind-fucking has been weakened, but its still there. I ain’t so smart as I used to be. Can you drive?”
Jamie shrugged. “Ah used to be able to…which pedal does which now?”
Susan threw the keys into a bush.
“Come on, we got to get away from here fast. Its risky but lets get a ride to town the ole fashioned way.”
The two hit the road, jamming out their thumbs and flashing their legs to get a car to pick them up. It wasn’t long before a car slowed down to answer their prayers. A jovial older man in overalls waved them in: Susan took the passenger seat and Jamie got in back..
“Where can ah take you ladies.” He asked with a broad smile.
Susan stammered a plea, “Mister, you got to get us out of this county, out of this state! We’ve been taken prisoner by this bit…girl…and she makes us do the most awful things. I am a lawyer from up north, my friend’s from the Midwest, and we need help, we need to get out of here, otherwise that girl will take us back.”
The man’s face grew grave, not out of concern for the plight of the women but out of the realization that his role as the good Samaritan had landed him a couple of con artists, harlots, nut cases or all of the above.
“You’re a lawyer. And she is from the Midwest.” He said slowly, skeptically.
“I know it sounds strange but you got to believe us, we’re in danger. I’ve got money. I’ll pay you.
“Honey, if you’re a lawyer, what’s the name of the guy who runs a trial.”
Susan knew that answer, it was so simple, like one plus one, but the information in her brain was scattered by the conditioning. The concept she tried to muster was like a wraith: she couldn’t lasso it to bring it beyond the tip of her tongue.
“A ref!” She yelled. It was as close to the answer as she was going to get, she only knew it because she had been watching a game the day before, and she figured a shot in the dark was better than no answer at all.
“Mmmmhmmm. And Missy,” He cocked his head at Jamie. “If you’re from the Midwest which state are you from?”
“Georgia!” She blurted out. It was the only state she could recall aside from the one she was living in: Alabama.
“I thought so.” The man said with a disappointed voice. “Look, I don’t know what you ladies are up to, but I don’t want any part of it. I’ll drop you off in the center of town.”
The man was as good as his word, letting Jamie and Susan off at the town square of a sleepy, but sizable town.
“Shit! What do we do now?” Susan exclaimed.
“Don’t you know?” Jamie asked.
“I…I…I never thought this far ahead.” Susan replied sadly. Jamie understood. In their mental state, there was only so far they could think. Betsy May’s girls only thought in the present, if they thought at all. Long term planning was beyond them.
“We could hitch again.”
“Naw…too dangerous. Hey, look over there. That Greyhound symbol on that sign and that arrow. There must be a bus station here! Come on, lets catch a bus.”
Jamie and Susan strode down the street in the direction the sign told them to go. In their tight cut of t’s and their short shorts they were an obvious distraction to the town’s inhabitants. Glares fueled by lust, appreciation or disapproval followed them as they went. They could feel the looks; the stares touched off something inside of them. They started waving their hips and shaking their assess as the moved. Occasionally they giggled, making their breasts jiggle. They tried to gain control of themselves, but it was nearly impossible.
“Shit,” Jamie whispered. “I….ah…trying to stay in control. Its so hard. If someone comes up and hits on me I am just gonna offer him my bod!”
“Hold on, its not that far…I can…see the station up ahead!”
The two picked up the pace, scrambling for a schedule posted on the station wall to find out which was the next bus out of town. The destination was irrelevant; as long as it was some place far away from here. They both scanned the schedule, furrowed their brows and moved their lips as if they were mouthing the words.
“Fuck!” Jamie said. “Is this dang thang in English? Ah can’t read a goddarn thang!”
“Shit! Betsy May dumbed us down so much we can’t read!” Susan growled.
Jamie gasped. Susan was right. Sure she had read magazines back at Betsy May’s but at some point she had stopped reading the words; she just looked at the pictures. She had never realized her ability to read had been taken from her.
“Well, gaaaawd damn. Lets just ask someone then!”
Jamie and Susan ran for a ticket window.
“What’s the next bus out of town!?” She demanded.
“Shit, ah need a smoke bad! Oh man, I’m losing it!” Jamie blurted out.
“I reckon that’s the 10:15 to Mobile.” The ticket agent responded leisurely.
“Two tickets!” Susan cried out pulling out the cash.
“That will be $50.” The agent replied.
Susan started counting the bills, stopped, and started counting again. She repeated this action three times.
“Oh sweet Jesus, I can’t count no more neither!”
“Hey, check out that guy, ain’t he cute?” Jamie mused.
Susan took hold of her friend.
“Come on girl! Get a hold of yourself. Can you count!?”
Jamie took the bills and tried to concentrate. She couldn’t add past 10.
“Doggone it, ah can’t do no figuring no more!” She moaned.
Susan grabbed the money and put it down on the counter, jumping up and down in impatience as the agent counted it up.
Jamie froze as a hand clamped around her shoulder.
“Jamie!”
Jamie knew that voice, she spun around to face her brother Robert. She threw herself into his strong arms.
“Jamie, where the hell have you been?” He cried out with emotion. “When you didn’t check in from New Orleans I figured something happened. I traced your path here from Atlanta.” He looked her over, bewildered by her shorts and tight t-shirt. He had always known his sister to dress conservatively; seeing her like this was a surprise.
Susan intervened on the reunion.
“Do you have a car!?” She nearly yelled at Robert.
“Sure. Who are you?”
“Come on, lets go!”
Susan pushed the two out of the bus station toward where Robert had parked his car. They nearly bowled Betsy May and Wes over as they exited.
“Well, well, well, what have we here.” Betsy May said in her maliciously honeyed voice. “See I told you Wes, they always go for the bus station.”
Susan tried to bolt; Betsy May cocked an eye and she froze. Robert tried to protest only to find he too could not move. Finally, Jamie felt Betsy May’s presence reach into her mind and all went black.
“Dawggone, Ms. Betsy, can ah have a smoke.” Jamie wailed, “Ah haven’t had a smoke in a coon’s age.”
Betsy May wagged a finger at Jamie Lynn. “Now now, Jamie Lynn, you’ve been a bad girl. Bad girl’s get punished. You be good and maybe I’ll let you have a cigarette sometime soon.”
Jamie Lynn pouted. “Ah be good Ms. Betsy…ah promise ah be good from now on. Cross mah heart.”
“We’ll see. Now what should we do with your dear brother.”
“Aw, Ms. Betsy, he ain’t done you no harm. Just let him be.” Jamie Lynn pleaded.
“I can’t let him go sugah. I mean, he’ll just come back for you. He has to be dealt with.”
She raised an eyebrow. Robert bent his head back and declared, “I am Robert Buske, I am Robert Buske, I am Robert Buske…I…Ah…Ah am Rob…Ah be Bobby…Ah be Bobby Joe…Ah be Bobby Joe…Ah be Bobby Joe.”
“Not much resistance in old Robert.” Betsy May declared laughingly. She released him from her control.
Bobby Joe’s body slackened and he rubbed his eyes.
“Howdy Miss Betsy,” Bobby Joe declared slowly. Then he eyed Jamie Lynn with a strange look. “Howdy Siss. You are right purty. You are.” His penis strengthened in an erection.
“No!” Jamie Lynn gasped. “It ain’t right. It ain’t right. Don’t let him do it, Miss Betsy!”
Bobby Joe staggered forward; Jamie Lynn gazed at him in horror.
“Oh, no, I think its high time for a proper family reunion, don’t you?” Betsy May replied with obvious delight.
Bobby Joe pressed his body against Jamie Lynn’s, she found herself secretly thrilled by the rugged texture of his muscles. Hadn’t she always? Wasn’t this some deep dark desire suppressed within her, that was released by her conditioning, her inability to think properly, her inability to control her urges?
“No…Bobby…we is kin…it ain’t right.”
“Is too right…we keeping stuff in the family. Suck me sis, suck me!”
“Oh…Bobby…Bobby…No,” She groaned as she slid to her knees before him, his thick rod horizontal to the ground, throbbing out of a nest of red pubic hair. He pressed her head against it. She smelled his musk, a tear of precum, hanging from the tip, it was so inviting, her thighs, her stomach, her breasts were alit with want.
“Bobby Joe…please…don’t…can’t”
“Suck me sisssss…suck me…”
Jamie Lynn’s body was electric with feeling, her hands were groping out to his powerful thighs, his sculpted ass, she felt him, she kissed his dick, she wrapped her lips around it slowly and then took it fully within.
Bobby ran his hands through Jamie Lynn’s red hair, their gray green eyes met, telling each other of their desire for this forbidden moment.
“Fuck sis, ah is gonna cum, lets do this right, in the bedroom.”
He swept Jamie Lynn into his arms and carried her into the next room, laying her on the bed, facing the large mirror over it. Jamie Lynn gazed at herself, her long body, her birdlike breasts, her cunt glistening in the light. Bobby Joe was spreading her legs and dipping his head into her crotch, savoring her clit, kissing it, playing with it. She arched her back, gritting her teeth, squeezing her breasts tightly.
So this is what Betsy May had made her, a hot Southern slut eager to fuck her own brother. It was wrong she told herself, so wrong, her baby brother, but, damn, it felt so good!
Bobby Joe licked his way up the crevice of Jamie’ Lynn’s tight stomach, past her hard nipples, to plunge his tongue into her mouth. She tasted her own juices mixed with his saliva. Jamie Lynn’s resistance crumbled completely; she wanted this man, she wanted to be fucked by this man, because the fucking was so wonderful. That was all that mattered, not the past, not taboo, not “nothin’”.
Jamie Lynn’s cunt was ready for Bobby Joe’s impalement, it wrapped around
his cock tightly. How long they rocked together, their waists and thighs
gyrating in unison, they did not know. Their climax was intense and exhausting:
they both cried out as they reached the limit and then let go.
It did stop because Betsy May wanted it to. Having her captives, her pets, these former big time city slickers, so self important, so smart, totally lost in the passions of their bodies and those of others had ceased to entertain her. She did not have them under her power for their own fun, they were there to amuse her. Breaking them down was the thrill for her and once that thrill was gone they were just taking up space; and there were other places they could go and be used. So having broken them down, she let their conditioning lapse just a bit so she could find out just how interesting they could be.
For Jamie, this had the feeling of being roused from a wonderful dream. She would rather go back to sleep, back to the state where this existence just happened and it was all like watching a dirty movie, except she felt everything the actors were feeling, all the energy of the animalistic lust building within her until the moment of satiation’s explosion and then starting all over again. She didn’t want to be Jamie, the good, prim Midwestern girl ever again, she wanted to be Jamie Lynn, the slutty seductress that could resist no man and no man could resist..
Jamie didn’t even consider Robert or Bobby Joe her brother anymore. He was a means to an end and when there weren’t any of Betsy May’s customers or visitors around, she used him for her pleasure. If Robert was back in some measure of control in his own mind, he didn’t show it. Betsy May had him doing odd jobs around the house and fixing up an old pick-up in an barn out back. He may have been as dumb as a post, but he still had some technical know how that made him useful beyond a good fuck.
There was something up in Susan. She watched television all day, but there was something going on in that mind of hers, probably another plan, another hope of getting out of here. Why didn’t she just give up, Jamie wondered, give in, let the needs of her body take over and let go of the needs of the mind?
“Wanna get mah engine running, Bobby Joe?” Jamie Lynn cooed as she slipped off her t-shirt, revealing her pleasant boobs.
It didn’t take much to get Bobby Jo going; his erection showed through his overalls. He grunted an assent, picked up Jamie Lynn, carried her to the back of the pickup and nearly jumped out of his clothes, falling on Jamie with his powerful body, licking and sucking at her nipples like a little puppy. She took his huge cock and massaged her cunt lips with it, murmuring with satisfaction at the feeling.
Bobby Joe’s technique was much more gentle and gaged to mutual satisfaction than most of the good ole boys who formed Betsy May’s clientele. Still he was clumsy and Jamie Lynn had a need to satisfy, she guided his prick into her moistened cunt, then pushed him over, rolling with him so that she emerged on top. She kneeled on him, her sex fully wrapped around his mountainous dick, taking her breasts in her own hands, squeezing them tightly. Bobby Joe tried to reach up to her with a bestial growl, but Jamie Lynn pressed his arms to his sides as she rode him. She didn’t want the ape spoiling anything; this was her ride. She threw her head back as the feeling welled up inside of her slowly and then shot through her. Bobby Joe let out a gasp as his cum shots pounded deep within her. Jamie smiled and let herself fall onto her brother’s chest.
“If this is family business, ah can always come back.” Susan told the couple sarcastically.
Jamie Lynn rolled over, releasing Bobbie Joe’s penis. “Why hey, Susie Jane, come on in, ya wanna take a ride?”
Susan frowned. “Come on, we gotta figure out a way outta here!”
“You just don’t get it Susie Jane. Ain’t no way outta here. Get used to it, we is Southern sluts, white trash, trailer trash. Just admit it and have fun”
“No, ah will not accept that. Ah ain’t what you say! Ah ain’t!”
Jamie slowly stood up, her cunt glistening with her juices and Boby Joe’s semen in the morning sun. Every step she took toward Susan was posed with sensuality, her ass wagged, her tongue ran across her lips. She backed Susan into the barn’s wall.
“Accept it and life will be a lot easier on ya, honey. Me, ah just love who ah am.” Jamie brought her lips up close against Susan’s pouting face. She whispered, “Fuck all day, fuck all night.…”
“No…Jamie…please…”
Jamie licked Susan’s lips playfully; it didn’t take much to send Susan toward the edge, letting the urges she was trying to suppress take control. Jamie’s kisses grew deeper as did Susan’s responses. Jamie had more in store though, she motioned Susan away from the wall so that Bobby Joe could press his dick, throbbing with renewed excitement, up against her ass. He reached around her and underneath her t-shirt’ taking her breasts and massaging them, twisting her thickening nipples.
“No!…Oh…what you two are doin’ too me…please…ya’all know ah can’t resist…makin me wanna fuck so bad!” Susan protested.
“Become what you are…surrender!” Jamie told her in a panting whisper. She undid Susan’s shorts to go after her clit, stroking it gently between forefinger and thumb.
“Jeeessus…don’t…not you…!”
After pushing Susan’s panties down, Bobby Joe slowly used his prick to invade Susan. She whimpered and cried, tears fell from her cheeks, she bit her lips as they worked her, their bodies tight together. Susan’s resistance was fading like butter melting in heated pan. Jamie smiled, they would be like this together, all three of them, slaves of Betsy May and sex, forever…
But it would not be forever…when Betsy May tired of them she would get rid of them. They would all become mind wiped permanently and sent to the Pit Bull or somewhere else, not as themselves but as automatons or worse. Robert and Susan whatever dreams they had would be lost for good. Jamie took control.
She released Susan, twisting her clit hard in a manner not meant to instill pleasure.
“Jesus, fuck you, you goddam bitch! What the hell you doin’!” Susan screamed.
Rattled Bobby Joe disengaged from Susan, his glistening cock bouncing and slowly losing its strength.
“Shit, you got to get out of here. Bobby Joe’s got the truck runnin’ don’t ya Bobby? You know how to drive?”
“Sho nuff.” Bobby Joe said, his face falling into a confused expression.
“Then you two get in the truck and get going! Don’t stop for nuthin.’”
“What d’ya mean? We can all go.” Susan replied.
“Betsy May ain’t gonna be gone long. Even if we git, she is gonna git somebody after us. Wes or those sheriffs and deputies that come over for a screw. Someone has to stay here and stall for time and it might as well be me.”
Susan warred with her desire to leave and her friendship with Jamie. Bobby Joe stood slack jawed; he didn’t know what to do except what he was told.
Jamie opened the truck door. “Come on. This is the best chance you’ll get. Git outta here and keep goin’ till you is outta the state. You can always come back for me when you’all git better. Git goin’ now!”
“Come on Bobby.” Susan said emphatically. She got dressed and got in on the passenger side.
Bobby put on his overalls, got in and started the truck. He looked at his sister as if he wanted to say something only his brain couldn’t figure out what.
“Git bro.” Jamie said.
Bobby Joe let the car roll out of the garage. It drove up to the road, turned, and sped off.
Jamie got dressed and went back into the house. She sat on a couch and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for Betsy May’s return. After a few moments, Jamie figured that this was the wrong thing to do: she needed to stall for time and if Betsy May saw her looking blankly at the ceiling she would figure something was up. She needed to be looking at a magazine when Betsy came in, because that is what Betsy would be expecting her to do. But the pictures would send Jamie teetering toward the abyss wherein lay Jamie Lynn and Jamie Lynn couldn’t keep the secret Jamie wanted kept. She needed something non-visual disguised in a visual form. An idea occurred to her. She found a piece of paper, slipped it into a magazine while keeping her eyes as averted as possible. Then she opened to where the paper covered the magazine page beneath. All she could see was the writing on the paper, not the magazine page, and as she could not read the words on it, they could not distract her. She sighed and waited for Betsy May.
It wasn’t long before the rumble of Betsy May’s Trans Am was heard outside. Betsy May brought in some shopping bags through the kitchen door, whistling to herself. She noticed Jamie alone and asked, “Where’s Susie Jane?”
“Sleepin’, Miss Betsy.” Jamie replied not looking up from the covered magazine page.
Betsy shrugged her shoulders; she started putting the groceries away. That bought the escapees a few more minutes. They needed hours. They were still within range of Wes or any number of Betsy’s customers who could get in their way after being reached by a phone call. Jamie had to do something drastic. When Betsy left the kitchen, Jamie threw her arms around her and kissed her.
Betsy made a noise and narrowed her eyes slightly as she investigated Jamie mentally. Susan had told Jamie that when the needs of her Jamie persona and her Jamie Lynn persona coincided, it was easier for the former to control the latter. Jamie’s desire came from two sources, Jamie’s need to conceal the fact that Bobbie and Susie were gone and Jamie Lynn’s need to fuck anything that moved. At that moment, Jamie and Jamie Lynn were one and so when Betsy May entered her captive’s mind, she couldn’t tell the difference between one and the other and what they wanted and why.
Betsy savored Jamie’s tongue, playing with it with her own. She released Jamie for just a moment.
“Git in the bed room and git undressed!” She commanded.
“Yes’m!” Jamie cheeped meekly, doing as she was told. Betsy May appeared a few minutes later at the doorway; her own body naked, her huge tits hanging steady like twin planets. Jamie Lynn had always hungered for Betsy May; she never had had the courage to try for her. Now that Jamie had pressed the issue, her pussy eagerly agonized for the union that was imminent.
Betsy May advanced on Jamie, pushing her back on the bed, letting three fingers push into her captive’s yawning cunt, pumping back and fort, back and forth. Jamie surprisingly didn’t know what to do next, but her pelvis begin to rise and fall in unison with the thrusts to take the fingers fully.
“Ya got something comin’ bitch!” Betsy May said. In her hand was a large dildo, glistening with some rude substance. The dildo took over the thrusting motion that Betsy’s fingers had abandoned, taking her hole’s entire length. Jamie fingered her clit to build on the feeling.
“Aw…fuck…fuck…!!!” The captive shouted.
The orgasm came so quickly, Jamie couldn’t hold it, she cringed and then shook.
“On your hands and knees!” Betsy May commanded.
Jamie complied, gasping, panting. Betsy May drove the dildo in again, motioning it with skill to make it fall right where it could drive Jamie insane with ecstasy. At the same time she reached for the woman’s drenched clitoris and rubbed it. Jamie’s eyes widened, her body was wet with perspiration, she was cumming again, being fucked like a dog. She screamed and fell forward.
Betsy May wasn’t done. There was more to come.
Betsy May stormed into the room, pulling Jamie up by the shoulders and shaking her.
“Where are they! They’re gone! The truck is gone! Where did they go!” She screamed.
Jamie tried to answer, but Betsy was flailing through her mind for the information. When she got it, she rolled her hands into fists and hit the terrified woman.
“Fuckin’ bitch! You’ll pay for this!”
Jamie managed to get into a sitting position.
“Don’t Miss Betsy! Ah’ll do anything!”
It was too late, Betsy May was beginning her mind wipe. Jamie’s mind began to empty, her thoughts began to fall from her like water through a sieve.
“Miss…uhh…Betsy…ah’ll…be good…ah’ll…make…up…you…” Concepts, words flowed away, she still had her memories, but these were all mental pictures, the ability to describe them, convey them dissipated.
For a moment, all control of her body was lost, she was paralyzed. Instead of sensation, she felt nothing, and then a vibrating feeling, wracking every pore of her body, it overwhelmed her as if she were a string on an instrument that had been struck and continued to whine. Suddenly, everything felt wonderful, the touch of the bed, the air, even Betsy May’s furious gaze. She wanted to feel herself and be felt, all over, it was so ecstatic. But the feeling grew worse, a nagging feeling, an itch that couldn’t scratched, but a hundred fold, her body was aching, famished for sensation, it almost felt that she might explode.
“Me…me…” Jamie stammered these words, she had been trying to say her name, but she could not even call that to her lips. Her mind had the capability to focus on only one thing.
Me…me…me wanna fuck…me wanna fuck.” Jamie uttered in a deep gutteral voice as if she were pretending to be a cave woman
“Oh you’ll fuck alright bitch!” Betsy May spat. “That’s all you’ll do; that’s all you’ll be able to do!”
“Sure thing Wes, right through here. She’s been through more johns tonight than you’ve had beers.”
The door opened into a ten by ten room with a bed just big enough for two people. A woman was sitting in a chair, with her legs spread, looking at herself in a mirror. She was completely naked. She moaned as she rubbed her crotch with one hand, only stopping momentarily to take a drag on a cigarette and then exhale the smoke.
“Girl!” Wes barked.
The woman that had been Jamie turned, the face beneath the long red hair gazed at him with its blank gray green eyes.
“Wanna fuck?” She asked.
Wes smiled. She was a good piece of ass and she would put out, she would love it and do what ever you wanted her to do, as long as you weren’t too complicated in the asking. But that wasn’t the reason he was here.
“Fuck?” She asked again.
“They got away Jamie. I hope that’s worth it for ya.” Wes told her.
Had his words made no impression? Jamie had been to college, she had had a career, but now there were few words she could understand or say.
“Just thought you should know.” Wes said before leaving.
Jamie took another breath of tobacco-stained air and smiled.