Chapter 8
When Laura awoke with the sun streaming across her bed, cheerily prying at her eyes, she couldn't orient herself at first. It took a full minute of shaking her head and rubbing her eyes before she realized she was in her own bed, in her own apartment. Her first sensation was one of panic as the memory of the night before closed in on her befuddled brain. She remembered vaguely that at least a thousand cocks had been stuffed in and out of her ravaged, stretched, aching vagina. There was a burning sensation in her whole lower body, and she ran her hand gingerly over her burning loins. Her entire pubic mound was sore to the slightest touch, reminding her of the savagery of the men who had raped her repeatedly, and forced her into sex acts that now, in the bright light of day, made her face redden in shame.
She lay there, letting her eyes rove the familiar room, hoping to wash away the bitter scenes that now haunted her. She sat up painfully, feeling giant stabs of pain in her loins, her breasts and buttocks, as if someone had shoved a bunch of hot needles inside her ... hundreds of them searing her tender woman-parts. She groaned and lay back, trying to gain some relief by not moving. She hadn't the faintest idea how she had made it back to her place, nor the time. She thought she recalled vaguely wandering about the motel grounds, naked, crying for help, but she wasn't positive. It could have been some other woman - one of the whores, perhaps - or she had dreamed the whole thing.
But she hadn't dreamed the horrible parts. They were all too sickeningly real, and her myriad pains reminded her of the truth of the night before.
Her head was pounding and her mouth was dry and tasted rotten. She had to get something to quench her terrible thirst, and she crawled painfully to the kitchen and got a glass of water from the faucet, gulping it down noisily. God, but it tasted good!
She had another half-glass, then stood looking around with a dumbstruck gaze. Bob hadn't been home all night again! While she'd been put through the fires of hell, raped, violated, humiliated and tortured, he hadn't even cared enough to even call, or come home at a half-decent hour, so that he might have spared her all of this pain and shame! She stumbled back to the bed, thinking that it didn't matter now. He'd probably been with some cheap whore, or else playing cards with his hoodlum buddies.
She had felt something die inside her many weeks ago, and now she felt as if she were attending the funeral of her once vibrant love for Bob Haynes. \
She lay down, staring at the ceiling, trying to put the pieces together. She couldn't go on. She had to do something, no matter how drastic, to escape from this living fear-filled hell! Things could only get worse, both at the motel-whorehouse, and in her marriage. It had to end tragically, and Laura had already had too much personal tragedy for one lone woman. Bob was in his element, she felt, surrounded by hoods, cheap prostitutes and plentiful booze. He would never change, and she couldn't descend into his gutter world. Yet... he had once been the only man in the world for her. What had happened? She could barely remember how Bob had been when they were married... it had been so long since he'd shown her any affection, or even courteous kindness.
How different he'd been in the beginning ... so different...
Bob had made up his mind at about age twelve that he was going to escape from the drudgery of small-town life. His father and grandfather had tried to make a living by doggedly farming the stony soil, but there was never enough, so they filled in as members of the county road-repair gang, or running snowplows in the winter months, building houses for other people as bad off as they were, sometimes not getting paid at all in cash, but in farm produce.
Bob's father was always preaching about getting an education, but Bob couldn't see it that way ... going to school until you were a grown man, to get a piece of paper saying you were educated. The way to get things done was to go out and do them ... show the world you had guts ... and make it stick.
Tony Rizzo's old man ran a "Fix-it" shop in town. He would mend shoes, wash windows, fix busted furniture - anything to make a half-dollar, and Tony had decided even before Bob had, that he wanted out. Tony's old man had a beat-up truck that only ran once in awhile, but Tony and Bob had worked on it, learning by trial and error, and had made it run well enough to get jobs on weekends, hauling farm produce to the city for local farmers, or picking up a load of junk and newspapers and taking them to town to sell them. By the time they finished high school, they had salted away enough cash to make a down payment on a decent truck, and they went into the trucking business in earnest. They worked long hours, because they had a dream. They would one day own a whole fleet of semis, and the Rizzo-Haynes company would be known nationwide!
Inside a year, they were making overnight hauls to Newark and Hoboken, often staying overnight with Tony's older brother in Newark. They were treated like men and they felt like men, and when Bob started going around with Laura, he felt that he was man enough to marry. They had three good trucks by then, and Tony's other b -other was driving the third one. He was making enough to take on the responsibiUties of marriage, and he was in love with Laura - crazy in love with the goddess-like blonde. It had taken a lot of talking and proving for her parents to agree to let her marry him. She was not quite eighteen, but when they saw how much in love they were, they relented, then quickly went all-out to help make a happy life.
A week before they died, they had willed the small motel to both Bob and Laura. They were killed in an auto mishap while riding with friends. Laura was heartbroken, but she had moved in like a trooper, taking hold of the running of the motel, and when he could, Bob helped. But inside six months, he knew that he couldn't continue to hold down two jobs. Besides, Laura complained that he was away on trips too much, and Tony was griping that he wanted only the short hauls, leaving the longer overnight trips to the Rizzo brothers.
Tony had finally offered to buy him out, and to please Laura, he had agreed. The motel had never been much, and it got no better, while Tony Rizzo had merged with another small trucking company in the state capital, and the last Bob had heard, was on his way to becoming a millionaire before he was thirty!
He blasted himself for being stupid enough to think he could make a goldmine of a rickety, old-fashioned motel, but he was stuck. He'd contacted Tony, trying to buy back in, but had been turned down cold. He didn't blame Tony ... but he began to constantly blame their poor fortune on Laura.
Then the gambling fever had struck, and he had taken out a first, then a second mortgage on the place. And, he thought bitterly, if the syndicate hadn't come along and made a real going operation of it, he'd still be grubbing around for part-time jobs in town. He still blamed her for what she'd made of him - a small-town hick - or tried to. But she didn't even matter much anymore. He was having a ball, moving like a big shot among his old friends, his pockets well stuffed with money, and all he had to do was to put his name on a few papers that said he owned the operation! Life was getting to be the fun he'd always hoped it would be - not thanks to his cold-assed wife!
Laura snapped from her reverie about their early married days. It was too late to be trying to change the past. That was dead - as dead and buried as her poor mother and dad. They'd have cried if they ever saw what Bob had let their hard-earned business become. It was the present that had to be changed. She had to make a move to change it, for Bob would never give up the soft life he was leading, and her pleas and protestations had meant nothing to him for a long time now.
She spent a long time in the shower, loving the soothing effect of the water flowing over her sore body. Then she felt as if she had washed off at least some of the filth of the night before. Standing naked before her mirror, brushing her blonde hair, putting some light makeup on, she felt lucky to be alive. She shuddered as she thought of the horrible things that might have happened to her if she'd been able to refuse or resist. She had little doubts about what kind of men Swede Swanson or Joe Wilkins were. And the other animals ... they would have killed her if she'd put up a fight.
She put on a bright summery dress, and was finally satisfied that she looked like a normal woman again, and not like one of the cheap sluts who did business in the motel rooms each night.
She gritted her teeth, heaved a sigh of resignation, and sat down and dialed a number on the phone. She had memorized it weeks before, but had never had the courage to call it. The phone at the other end of the line rang several times before she heard a voice say, "County SherrifFs Department."
Her carefully prepared words froze on her tongue. She was still afraid that her plan would backfire.
"Uh, yes... can I speak to the Sheriff himself?" Her voice trembled at the enormity of what she was about to do.
"Sorry, lady," the voice came back, he's out of town for a couple of days. But I'm sure someone else here can help. Now, I'll let you talk to one of the Deputy Sheriffs ..."
"No!" She broke in quickly. "I have to speak to the highest person there. Who's in charge?"
"Well..." the officer said gruffly, "Sergeant Sauers is technically in charge when the Sheriff is away, but..."
"Please, I have to talk to him!" Laura's voice was panicstricken, and it impressed the officer with its urgency.
"Just a minute, lady ..." she could hear him talking to someone, while he held his hand over the mouthpiece, but in another minute, a different, deeper voice came on the line. "This is Sergeant Sauers ..." he waited for her to pick up the conversation.
*Thank God," Laura said gratefully, feeling relieved. "Sergeant, this is Laura Haynes, out at the Rainbow's End Motel... I... have to have some help."
Before she could stop herself, the words bubbled forth, spilling out the whole sordid story beginning with Bob's having taken the second mortgage on the place. She ended up gasping out the painful details of the night before, and at the end, she felt exhausted. The retelling was almost as humiliating as the actual events had been for her.
"All right, Mrs. Haynes. You sit tight. I'll be there inside twenty minutes. Lock your door and don't open it to anyone but me. Understand?"
"Y ... yes," Laura gulped, fright forming in her mind at what she might have done in summoning the law. "... and thank you." The phone clicked then buzzed at the other end, and she sat there staring at the instrument after she had cradled it. All she had to do now was wait, and she would be freed from this hellish nightmare that her life had become. It was a high price to pay, she knew ... her marriage, the motel - but she recalled quickly that they had already lost that... her husband .. . everything she had loved so and worked so hard to make a success. It would all be gone. But she had no choice.
She began to tremble violently, and she went into her bedroom and got a small bottle of nerve-quieting pills her doctor had prescribed for her several months ago. Although the prescription called for no more than one capsule a day, Laura felt she needed two to stand up to the coming ordeal, and she swallowed them hastily. She walked back into the living room and sat down to wait for the officer from the Sheriffs office. The two powerful pills went to work immediately on Laura's empty system, rushing relaxation through her bloodstream to her brain in a matter of minutes. She was still aware of her surroundings, but she couldn't seem to summon her body to obey her commands. She tried to get up out of her chair to fix herself a cup of coffee, but it was too much of an effort and she slumped back. She tried to keep control of her senses, knowing she would have to be alert when the policeman arrived, but it was an impossible task.
She felt herself slipping deeper and deeper into a totally relaxed state. Suddenly, everything seemed so simple to her. The problems that had beset her for all these months faded into oblivion. They really weren't insurmountable at all. And soon, she consoled herself, she would be entirely free of all of them, big or small. Free! The thought made her smile vacantly and she managed to stand up and began to dance craziry about the room!
When she heard the knock at the door, she raced to it, staggering slightly, and fumbled with the lock and finally opened the door to let Sergeant Sauers in.
It took several seconds for her eyes to focus, then her mind to accept the fact that the man standing behind the police officer was Swede Swanson! He wasn't being herded in, as if he were already under arrest! He was standing behind Sauers, a sneer curling his mouth! What was happening? Her mind began to reel. Before she could make any sense of it, both men stepped quickly inside, grasping her and pulling her back inside with them. Swede locked the door.
"My, my, motel lady," he sneered, "what a big mouth you navel Called the fuzz, huh? Local girl makes good!" His face was an ugly mask and his eyes shone with contempt.
"You ought to know that you don't operate a joint like this without a little juice dripping into the hands of the cops!" Swede shook his head in mock disgust. "The sergeant, here, and some others, have known about this place since we were only planning to open it! Ain't that so, Sarge?"
"Yeah, that's true," Sauers said coldly, eyeing her suspiciously. "In fact, Swede has been telling me some very interesting things about the way you like to carry on, Mrs. Haynes. I guess I should have been here last night, huh?"
The world was coming apart around Laura. This was funny! There was no one who was safe to trust left in the whole crazy world! She began to laugh hysterically, covering her mouth awkwardly. She couldn't control the urge to giggle and laugh, and she roared with laughter until she was gasping for breath. She slumped into a chair, gasping with laughter, but Swede walked quickly over and grabbed her by her blonde hair, forcing her to stand up. Then he slapped her hard across the face.
Her laughter died in her tliroat as fear choked her. His eyes held a deadly look, but still, the urge to laugh in his face - in the face of the whole stinking world - took hold, and she began to laugh again, bitterly.
"This dame is on some kind of junk!" Swede turned and said to Sergeant Sauers. "She's higher than a kite!"
"You on drugs?" Sauers asked sharply.
"Hell, anybody can see that. Probably downers - tranquilizers. A lot of dames swallow 'em by the handfuls. I've seen dozens of 'em like this before!"
Sauer's face turned sadistic and his mouth curled into a nasty, manacing grin.
"Yeah, well... I might have a few tricks that will bring her back up!" Swede turned to him and grinned evilly. "I'll be over in my office, Sarge. Call me if you need me for any help!" Swede unlocked the door and left, and Laura looked blankly at the tall, rawboned officer. Her mind wasn't comprehending any of this, but she sensed instinctively that she was in trouble again - and this time, with the law!
The door opened and Swede stuck his head in. "If that dumb-ass husband of hers shows up, I'll keep him busy, Sarge. Take your time. Give him a bottle and a broad and he's gone for a couple of days!" He flashed his ugly smile and closed the door behind him. Sauers walked to the door and locked it. He walked toward Laura, purring, "Wc don't want anything or anyone disturbing us, do we?" Laura shrank back against the wall, her eyes wide with pure terror.
Her heart was pounding wildly as she looked up at his mean face. He walked close and stared lewdly at her breasts, then her loins and legs. His eyes were flat as a snake's, without any sign of emotion. He looked more deadly to her than any of the others had.
The others hadn't shown hate in their faces like he now displayed. And he was supposed to be "the law"! What kind of fool had she been this time? Why hadn't she just run, disappearing from the face of the earth? As her terror rose to overwhelming heights, she slid down the wall, crouching in abject fear on the floor.
He was smiling a cold, deadly smile, and she realized that she was once again trapped ... helpless to stop him from whatever he intended to do. In her despair, she mentally called out, "Oh, Bob ... oh, Bob ... help me." But she knew she would get no help from her worthless, weak husband. Even if he were to walk in, he wouldn't have the guts anymore to fight for her... or for anything. Sauers' eyes were like little coals of fire as his tall, rangy body neared her. He stood close to her, glaring down at her, and she could smell the sickening odor of whiskey and stale food on his breath. He smelled sweaty, too, and she tried to shrink further away from him. Sauers' hands went to his wide belt at his waist. He slowly unbuckled it and removed it from its belt loops, his eyes growing more evil with each deliberate movement. He let his gun and handcuffs fall to the floor.
Laura looked about her like a trapped animal, fear dulling her wits and covering her face with a grotesque mask. She knew there weren't any miracles anymore ... and that was what it would take to free her from this maniacal man who masqueraded behind a badge and uniform! Sauers raised his arm slowly above his head, the belt slowly trailing in the air. Then he snapped it with a loud crack, letting it land sharply on her shoulder! It bit smartly into her flesh through her dress, and she screamed in pain and terror! Halfway through her scream, Sauers cut another slice from her flesh as he cracked the leather belt down on her back and arm.
The sharp pain galvanized her into action, and she stood quickly and tried to scramble past her tormentor, whose face was now that of a madman! He grabbed her quickly, tearing her dress off with one yank, leaving her shuddering in only her panties. She had worn no bra, and her round globes tumbled about wildly as she tried to get away from him.
Sauers stared at her exposed beauty, his eyes opening wider, licking his tongue nervously over his dry lips. The welts on her arm and back were stinging and beginning to set up a deeper ache under the skin.
"Please . . . don't whip me ... no more ... please ..." She was begging with her whole being, her hands clasped as if in actual prayer to the sadistic law officer.
But Sauers wasn't anywhere near through with her. He had only just begun. His voice was raspy with lust as he ordered, "Take off those panties ... and quick!" His arm was raised, poised to slash her skin again with his belt. She moved too slow, and the belt came smashing down again, this time biting into the soft flesh of her thigh. The pain was unbearable, and she struggled wildly to get her panties off. She knew if he hit her again, she'd faint. She stood before him, shivering with pain and fear, her eyes glazed over. But anything was better than being whipped. Let him rape her as he would, and get it over with, but she couldn't stand that awful pain the leather imparted to her trembling flesh! She tried to compose herself to accept the rape. She had survived the others, and she would survive this beast's attack, somehow. Her attitude was almost one of defiance, and her jaw was set firmly.
But she sensed that her naked body didn't arouse him as it had the others. He lacked that lusting, demanding look in his expression. It was as if he were a cattle buyer, coldly appraising a steer. Something was wrong. Her deepest instincts were shouting that what he had in mind was much more than brutal sex! What did he want from her? What was going on in his mind that was masked by his cruel, cold eyes? He stood there without moving for what seemed hours to Laura.
She broke out in a cold sweat, tiny beads of perspiration standing out upon her skin. Her legs felt weak, and she feared she was going to collapse in a faint, but she was afraid that if she moved even a tiny bit, he would flay the flesh from her body with that cruel leather weapon! Huge tears appeared in her eyes, pushed out by a flood of others, running down her cheeks. She felt faint, and her body shook like an aspen in the wind. She listened to her own sobs mingle with Sauers' panting breath.
She watched in terror as he reached for the billy club that he had also dropped to the floor from his belt socket, and slowly walked toward her now violently shaking body. His cold eyes were hypnotic . . . transfixing her ... she couldn't move!