Bullet Through Your Face (improved format) (35 page)

And right now the dutiful PFC Micah Hays couldn’t thank of
any other thang but untyin’ that white ribbon.
“Be mine, Micah,” Mrs. Willis breathed rather hotly whiles she
were steppin’ forward. “I’ve heard so much of your sexual prowess
but that was back when I was married. Since then I’ve ascended to a
grand, new hierarchy—”
“The
fuck?
” Micah Hays responded.
“Let me suck your dick . . .”
“Uh . . . shore,” Micah Hays responded, and he was already so
hard just from the look’a her and the seducterive sound’a her voice,
it felt like he was carryin’ around a marble bust’a Napoleon in his
shorts.
Her smile beamed. Her hot mouth opened and her tongue came
out and licked her lips, and at the same time her left hand ran up her
sides ta her hooters which she then caressed quite provocatively and
then that same hand slid right back down to her pie, it did, and she
stuck a finger right up there and sighed. But that was her left hand.
In her right hand, she were holdin’ . . .
A fuckin’laundry sack?
Hays wondered.
Well, that’s shore what it looked like, only it didn’t look like it
had much laundry in it. Hays tried to put the immediate situation
into summation:
What’ve I got here? I got a dead doctor’s nekit wife
standin’ in front’a me holdin’ a laundry bag, and she’s got a finger
up her snatch, and she wants to suck my dick in the middle’a some
phony Army gal’s motel room with some silly lifeguard show on the
TV.
What else have I got? I mean, besides a giant boner?
Not much, at least not in the way of answers to the multitudinous
questions posed by this predicament. Jeanne Willis took another
slow step forward, her big bright eyes
wide
on Micah Hays, and—
Now if that don’t beat all!
Micah thought—she was actually droolin’
whiles lookin’ at him, that’s right a long line’a spit fallin’ right out
her yap. Micah knew full well he was hot property as far as gals was
concerned—shee-it, they’d foller him down the street like he was
one’a the fuckin’ Beatles or somethin’! They’d stalk him, hide out in
front’a his apartment, bust into his place, you name it!—but even he
hadda admit he’d never seen a gal
drool
fer him. A’corse, this were
fine with him ‘cos noisy, sloppy, spitty blowjobs was the best.

“You’re gonna let me suck your cock, aren’t you, Micah?”
“Well, let me thank a minute. How’s about . . . fuck yeah?”
“Let me see it . . .”
Never to deprive a woman’a her wishes, Micah whipped it out,

er, well, not exactly
whipped,
on account he was already harder than
a hammer handle—he hadda kinda
pry
it out, and after he done so, it
was pointin’ at her’n gittin’ ta throb.

Her slow encroachment came to a momentary pause, and she
gaped. “God
damn!
” she remarked. “That’s the biggest penis I’ve
ever seen . . .”

Hays shrugged,
flexing the trophy. “Problee so, Mrs. Willis.
Same as what most gals say once they git a gander.”
She brought an astonished hand to her mouth. “Why, it must be
almost ten inches . . .”
“No almost about it, ma’am,” Micah Hays corrected, “and that’s
on an average day. I’se remember one time the Shiner twins was
givin’me a double-header in the back’a their daddy’s van, and they’se
was all drunk’n giddy’n pitchin’ a absolute
fit
over how big it was,
so’s one of ‘em—Ellie June or Ruthie Sue, don’t rightly know which
one on account they’se both look ‘zactly alike—she done snatched a
ruler out her daddy’s toolbox and—well, no pun intendered—set ta
measurin’my tool, and it measured ten and three-eighth inchers—no
lie, ma’am.”

Mrs. Willis gulped. “What, uh, what did you do then?”
What a silly-ass question! “Well, ma’am, I filled their yaps with
cum, kept wood, ass-fucked the fudge out’a both of ‘em, then went
on to the bar and had me a few beers, er, not that’s I’se prone ta usin’
such language in front of a respecterble married woman such as
yerself, ma’am.”
“Ooo, and that’s quite an impressive pair of testicles you have,
Officer . . .”
Micah Hays cupped them in his hands, a proud display. “Yes,
ma’am, big as eggs they is, and I don’t mean hen’s eggs neither, I
mean duck eggs. I know that fer fact, Mrs. Willis, ‘cos see one time I
was cornholin’ one’a the Kessler girls, and the Kesslers as you may
know they have theirselfs a duck farm out ‘tween here’n Crick City,
and I’se fucked that gal in the butt so many times it were rumored
she couldn’t walk fer a week, but ta git back ta the point, see, ma’am,
we’se was doin’this in one’a their duck-pens—see, the Kesslers
raise
ducks, then sell ‘em ta Chinamen restaurants’n stuff in the city—and
anyway I could plainly see all them duck eggs that’d been laid, and
shore enough, they was the same size as my balls.”
“You’re quite a supernumerary, Officer,” Jeanne Willis said.
“A
what?
Micah Hays said.
“An unparallelled reproductive specimen. You wouldn’t happen
to know your sperm-count, would you? Per cubic milliliter?”
“
Pardon
me?”
“Oh, no matter. I can index it later.” Mrs. Willis opened that
laundry bag then, and got ta pullin’ out several things. One thing
was somethin’ that looked like a purple marble. Another was a
hyperdermic needle. And the last thing, see, was somethin’ of a very
particular note to Hays: an empty 2-liter Coke bottle.
“Uh, ma’am?” he politely requested. “Before you git ta polishin’
my knob, you mind answerin’ a few questions?”
The way she was leanin’ over just then afforded Hays a
spectackaler view’a her tits hangin’ down, and right between ‘em he could gander her beaver-fur, he could. “Go right ahead, Of
ficer,” she
agreed, and what she picked up from the contents’a the bag was that
li’l purple marble thang.

“Like, did you murder yer husband Doc Willis?”
Jeanne Willis chuckled. “Oh, no, of course not.”
“Well, someone shore as hail did ‘cos shortly after he called the station ta report
you
as bein’ kidnapped, we seen his body in the
closet with his throat cut ta the neckbone, and five minutes after that
someone not only took off with a bunch’a empty 2-liter Coke bottles
‘zactly like the one ya just took out’a that laundry bag, but they also
seemed ta take off with the Doc’s body in his fancy Mercedes, and,
see, I got me this danged funny feelin’ that the person who done all
that is you.”

Her breath gushed through a wanton smile. “Never mind any
of that for now. All you need to do, Officer, is look into the light . . .”
The light?
Hays thought.
What light? The desk light, the ceilin’
light? Bud Light?
“This light—”
What she was holdin’ ‘tween her index finger’n thumb was that
there purple marble thang, see, and then alls of a sudden all the lights
in the room went out along with the television still showin’ the silly
show with all them Calerforna tramps in the red swim suits—almost
like a power line had gone down somewhere, and what happened
after that was—
Dang!
Hays thought.
—that purple marble thang in her fingers started to
glow.
A real dark light it was, dark purplish-blue and really weird, and
to top that off, Micah hisself began ta
feel
really weird, like woozy the
way ya’d feel after maybe throwin’g back three neat shots’a Maker’s
on a empty stomach, and that purple light just kinda . . .
bloomed
in
his eyes such that it felt like the light were somehow gittin’ inside his
haid!
“You must do as I say,” Mrs. Willis said but now it didn’t sound a
whole lot like her voice, kinda deep’n tony like maybe the way
she’d sound if she were talkin’from the end of a sewer pipe. “Do you
understand, Officer Hays?”

“Uh-uh-uh,” Hays replied and noticed that his voice too sounded
the same way and alls the while that nutty purple-blue light seemed
ta be wrigglin’ deep in his noggin’ almost like the light were really
fingers squirmin’ ‘round. “I’se reckon I understant just fine, Mrs.
Willis.”

But that ain’t what he wanted ta say! What he
wanted
ta say was
somethin’ like:
You crazy nekit bitch! I’se arrestin’ you fer suspicion
of murder, I am! And ya kin ferget about the blowjob ‘cos this is
serious police business!

“Good, good, Of
ficer Hays,” she returned. “Now, the first thing
I need you to do is drop your pants . . .”
Hays dropped ‘em fast, his big hard dong kinda wobblin’like the
way a divin’board does after someone jumps off it. But what needed
to be mentioned was that Hays done so under no volition’a his own.
Once he heard her words, his body simply done it, so it seemed that
whatever that funky purple light was, it were takin’ command of
his body but at least he could still think, and what he thunk was:
It’s
some kind’a hypnoseris! She’s hypnertizin’me, makin’me do thangs
against my will! Some kinda hippie mind-control or somethin’! I gots
ta fight it! I gots to!
But he weren’t fightin’it too well now were he? Not after droppin’
his police pants just as pretty as you please. And as the purple light
seeped deeper into his brain, more’a her deep, wobbly, echoin’words
came forth: “The Supremess will be pleased with your extraordinary
contribution to her purpose, Officer Hays—”
The WHO?
“—and what’s going to happen now is you’re going to lie down
on the floor and go to sleep, and I’m going to perform fellatio on you
for an hour—”
Over my dead—
Er, well, the thought of defiance didn’t last long
really ‘cos, well, ‘cos havin’ a hot nekit gal suck his dick fer an hour
sounded a mite dandy ta him...