This is a work of fiction, and contains strong elements of non-consensual engagement. I do not condone, encourage, or approve of the behavior in the story below. It is a dark exploration of sexuality, confusion, and power with political themes.

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Erica clung to the warmth of the styrofoam cup. The steam filled her nostrils. It reeked of dirt and motor oil, and was bitterer against her tongue. Cold air assaulted the back of her neck, breaking through her hair and layers of winter clothing. Even for mid-Februrary, it was cold.

A tow truck picked her up from the gas station, then drove her about two miles back to the crash site. She swerved to avoid a moose, landing her SUV in a ditch. The man in the tow truck got out and took two crunchy steps into old snow. “No tracks,” he said. As if to say: young lady, no need to make excuses for your shit driving. He looked over the damage. The engine was still smoking and the way the hood bent inward reaffirmed Erica's thoughts.

“You ready?” the man asked.

“I called my insurance company already,” Erica said.

“That's why I'm here. Nearest service station is a few hours east. From the looks of it... Said it's the only place they'll pay to get it fixed... or hell, replaced."

“That's way back from where I came.”

“Tough one. But like I asked, you ready?”

Erica grabbed a few items through the passenger side and hopped back in the truck. The tune of old, grinding metal made nails on a chalkboard sound like a sonata.

“I'm ready,” Erica said.

They drove for a while without trading any words. The radio tuner had broken off ages ago. The trucker twisted some strange contraption of tape, glue, and an old soda can tab to change the frequency. Every station was the same. Between infrequent replays of “classic” rock, men with ugly voices shouted through the tinny speaker. Caravans, conspiracies, and conquest wormed into Erica's ears. Even with the heat running, Erica chattered in the cold—her blood didn't run as hot as, and she was much thinner. Her coat didn't protect her. Despite that, the trucker only wore a long sleeve shirt and seemed fine.

“Can I turn up the heat?” Erica asked.

The trucker shook his head.

“I never got your name, by the way,” Erica asked.

“Tanner.”

“Oh,” Erica said.

Aaaaand they intend to defund the police after the riots of '26? Just goes to show you how the liberal mind can't help but touch a hot stove, even when they were the ones to turn it on! The man on the radio continued his rant.

Just as Erica hoped the man would turn off the radio, he turned up the volume instead.

There was nothing on the road ahead. Tanner turned to look dead into Erica's eyes. “Out of state, huh? Your plates say...”

“I know I know.”

“You're not like the other ones over there, are you?”

Erica felt like a knife was to her throat. To tell the truth and upset him, or to risk lying? “Not like them, no.”

“Atta girl,” Tanner said. He slapped the steering while and started to whistle. “Married?”

Erica tugged at the tips of her gloves nervously, he couldn't have seen her bare fingers. She didn't answer.

“Girl like you outta be. License said, twenty-six?”

“Twenty-seven,” Erica said.

“You'd make a man proud, and you'd have it easy. Your man would have a good job, pretty as you are, and housework's easier than him breaking his back at work for you.”

“Yeah, maybe. I never said I wasn't married, though.”

“You're too unhappy to be taken.”

“...because I'm here alone in a state I've never been to and the front of my car looks like a wadded up piece of tinfoil.”

“See? The way you talk. It shows an ugly soul.”

“Like you'd know, Tanner.”

He pulled his phone out and tapped around a few times, then showed her a picture. “See? Look at how grateful they are.” Two blonde women with brilliant smiles sandwiched him shoulder-to-shoulder. They must have been ten years younger than him. She swiped through a few more photos. He might have been handsome, but he was at least in his mid 40s now. It took a few more pictures to find him without a hat on: His hairline was losing a decades long fight. She swiped a few more times and a third woman appeared in the older photos, she looked about the same as the rest.

“Is that your ex-wife in the older ones?” Erica asked. Her eyes fell to his hands. He had two black silicone bands on his left ring finger. Surely they weren't all...

“Yeah. She started saying weird shit at church. Anti-American stuff. Like bringing back public schools. Serious commie shit.”

“Where is she?” Erica asked. She choked, already realizing the answer to that question.

“You've seen what they do on TV. Girl like you can't be that ignorant.”

“Did they...”

“Jesus no. They got her down south. I'm taking the restitution check and letting some good young man get his first taste of the married life. Three was too many for me.”

“The other two then...?”

Tanner nodded. "Together under the watchful eye of God."

For a few minutes, Erica stayed silent. She let the radio tune out of her mind, and the only thing that broke her inward concentration was the occasional pothole throwing the entire metal beast around enough to thump and slam with her SUV still affixed in the back.

“How?” Erica asked. "You? With three wives?"

“You'd think it's because there's more good men than women, but I'm a good husband. Shame I'm not with 'em all the time. Real man's gotta earn his keep in this county.”

“...real man?”

“A real man, yeah. You doubting me? You said you're not one of them.”

Erica inched away from him in her seat. “Yeah, I'm not.”

“Alright then, who's them?”

Erica took a second. “The... the liberals?”

It was obvious he caught her hesitation. “And why are you traveling through our state?”

“No reason.”

Her stared at her. Bags of pale skin surrounded small, green eyes, with crows' feet heavy in shadow from the soon-to-set sun behind them. He turned back to the road and kept his hairy knuckles tight around the wheel.

Erica felt the tension release over the next few minutes. Just as a pang of relief hit her, Tanner pulled the truck over to the side and snatched Erica's purse before she could react. “Fuck, hey! Fuck you, asshole!”

He dug quickly, pulling out a small container, foil on one side and a few dozen plastic domes on the other, half of them emptied. Her birth control pills. Tanner threw them at her. She threw her arms up to defend herself, but the edge of the container scratched her cheek anyway. She scrambled to get them off the floor, but he grabbed her by the wrist. Erica became terribly still: A faun on a freeway.

“That's a crime,” Tanner said. “Punishable by...”

“Please no. I don't want to be on TV. I don't want to be like...”

Tanner pulled two more boxes of her birth control pills out, then placed them both on the cushion between them. “What happens if we get to the service station and the police are doing random searches? If I lie and you've got this shit on you, I'll be charged with harboring a fugitive.”

“You picked me up already and...”

“So you want me to leave you here?”

Erica choked down air. Her heart wanted to escape through her throat. She felt dizzy. Her body flashed between cold and hot with each shallow breath. “We can...”

“...work this out,” Tanner said. “And get you to the service station before dark.”

It was obvious how it would play out. “Then you...” She looked between his thighs.

“You're the fucking criminal here. I'm not taking anything from you. If anything, you're taking this from me. You're trying to bribe me, and if the good men in blue ask a few too many questions.”

“You wouldn't,” Erica said.

“I'll play as dumb as I can, but you were the one who tried to bribe me. Remember that. You against me. How do you think it'll play out?” Tanner parted his knees and threw his arms to the side. “And quick too. Don't want anyone driving by and seeing me sitting on the side of the road. Might lead to...”

“I fucking get it, you redneck asshole.” Erica took off her gloves and unzipped her jacket, throwing them to the side. She leaned over and unbuckled Tanner's belt, then unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, then yanked them down.

What slept like a bear in winter, beneath a thicket of brown-and-gray wires, was a pale monstrosity that made the stray plastic bottles and cans on the floor look like they were in competition. Erica took it into one hand, the weight straining subtly against her wrist. It flopped around when she tried to stroke it. “We're doing this, here? Can't I... later? I really want to get there before dark.”

Tanner turned the key. The truck started.

“You can't be...” Erica muttered. “With your pants like that? How are you gonna hit the pedals?”

Tanner wove his fingers into Erica's bangs, then stroked her scalp to knock her hat off. “You think a real man like me can't do two simple little things like driving and having a pretty young lady choke on my fucking cock?”

The truck accelerated and Erica sucked him as best she could. Her lips were not fit for the job. It like was a tricycle in a head-on collision with an eighteen wheeler. Erica's poor jaw never stood a chance.

“It's too... I can't.”

Tanner took her by the skull and mashed her face against it. Her cheek dragged along the ridge of his cock head, and the tip of her nose caught against a thick vein. She inhaled his fumes. He didn't smell like any of her boyfriends and the hoodies she stole off them, Tanner stunk like a man. Not letting up, he pushed her further down. His sack's pubes scratched dangerously close to Erica's nostrils, and the elephant-thick skin was like sandpaper to her chin. She reeled and nearly gagged, before finally opening her mouth and drooling on them. His cock lurched to life one cholesterol-laden pump of blood at a time. Before long, it stood proud between her head and the bit of belly he had. She side-eyed it from below.

“Well?” Tanner asked.

Erica rubbed her face against the bottom of it, feeling the length dwarf anything she'd ever touched. It had a bit of a downward curve. If anything, it was bigger when looking at it from above. Erica's fingers trembled as she looked at the man who kept driving as if nothing was happening. The only thing he did was turn up the radio.

...Ammo Depot's Valentine's Day Sale is just around the corner, show your loved one how much you care by... zzrt...Cold and wet tomorrow. Gonna be a real storm. Stay home folks. We're expecting rain of at least eleven inches...zzrt... fucking liberal demons can't handle... zzrt... real men who love this country ...zzrt... and the UFOs they don't want to tell us about, more at...

It was no wonder he had three wives at some point, he'd need them all to just get a proper handjob. Erica dreaded doing anything else with him. It was too much for her to fit anywhere but her... oh no, oh no no no no.

“The fuck are you doing?” Tanner asked.

Erica faked a smile. “T-teasing you. Obviously. Getting a real man like you worked up for--”

“You have about five minutes,” Tanner said. “If you don't get me off by the time we get there, I'm reporting you immediately.”

Erica laughed hideously, knowing she didn't have a choice. She tugged off her pants and slid out of her panties, kicking her boots to the floor. Wearing only only a sweater with a shirt and bra underneath, she slid under his arm and into his lap. She looked at him. Old stubble. Stale, carbonated breath. There was a strength to his jawline once, almost present, but lost to years of sun through windows and windshields. She threw one hand behind herself and rubbed her pussy against the middle of his cock, then raised her ass just high enough to kiss her lips to the crown. She wasn't wet enough, but maybe enough stimulation would get her there.

And it did, not enough for the pleasure to be mutual, but she could actually manage him—the tightest kind of fit with the loosest definition of the word. She rode him slowly, and then barely an inch deeper. Erica grunted and winced, her fingers balled up tight. She had planned this trip for weeks and this is where it led her. She'd be lucky if she had any fingernails left to bite in nervousness after tonight.

With enough friction, she could lift her ass and then push it down, squeezing down on his cock as she did. Only a couple more inches made it inside, but she sensed him getting closer. The way he throbbed, the way his eyes looked down in hopes of glancing at her covered tits. When he only needed one hand for the wheel, he dug his calloused fingers into her soft ass cheeks.

“Closer,” Tanner said. Did he mean the station or an orgasm? It didn't matter, because Erica had no choice. “Good think you're on birth control for when I finish. Or maybe you're not. Hard to know what the truth will be when we get there.”

“Fuck you.”

“Don't like it? What are you, some kind of lesbo? Words like that make me soft.”

Erica grunted, she was on the verge of tears, both out of humiliation and the sheer difficulty of taking even four inches of his dick. “Fine. What words... what do you want me to...”

Tanner took her by the chin and forced her to look into his cold eyes. “You said before you're not one of them, right? Prove it.”

Erica's jaw tightened. Her teeth clattered. She wanted to scream so loud that she'd hear her own voice on a those nearby radio station. “Daddy. Sorry Daddy. I was just confused, I've never been with a real man before, and I've never felt a real cock. It's so good. You're so good. Please, cum for me Daddy.” Her words strained through her incisors like rocks through a cheesecloth. “Please. Please please please please please. I'm begging you. Please!” She couldn't hide the desperation in her voice any longer. She knew how pathetic she sounded, but she couldn't make herself lie any longer. She wanted him to cum, but only because she wanted to get home safely to be alone and comfortable beneath a blanket, to finish her last year of college, and then find a good job. The tone was a plague to eroticism in her voice, and she felt the man soften. “Please Daddy,” Erica sobbed, as she looked to him for mercy.

His cock throbbed as a siren chirped.

Blue and red lights danced back and forth in the dusk behind her, and in the front of the truck.

Erica's head snapped back when the truck stopped just shy of the service station.

Erica felt every bone in her body wanting to shatter. Utterly overwhelmed with fear, she wanted to thrash and kick and break free of the trucker and run and...

“Shh,” Tanner hushed her. “Just don't say anything. Wear this,” Tanner said, slipping a red hat out from behind him and onto her head, “so he doesn't question you.” Erica watched the officer approach from the side of the window and look up at her. The truck vibrated as it stopped. She tried to slip off of Tanner's cock. His elbow hooked around her waist to and kept her still. “I've got this, seriously, don't worry.”

The officer looked up. “Hope we don't need to search the vehicle."

Erica kept still. Her toes curled as the vibrations continued. Her aching pussy felt Tanner's cock push a little deeper, the pressure against her g-spot was too intense to ignore. The front of her pussy rested against his belly, and the reverberations of the still-running engine hitting her clit. Physically, it was better than any vibrator she had ever used. Mentally? Mentally Erica was tearing gray matter and splattering it against the inside walls of her skull. She was sorting through her mental dictionary to find words to spit on Tanner when this ended, only to land on a blank page between the foreword and table of contents.

“...young lady? Young lady.” She had completely disassociated from a near minute of conversation. “Answer the question, you're not carrying or taking any birth control with you, are you?”

Erica stared into the police officer's body camera as Tanner adjusted the hat to stop it falling of her head.

“No,” Erica said as Tanner came.

Pulse after pulse of the thickest, hottest seed blasted into her. Her mind emptied and her eyes lost focus. She nearly collapsed through the side window, but Tanner caught her as he softly moaned into her ear. “Good girl.”

The officer wrote away on a small notepad, signed something at the end, and flipped the page. “You're a lucky girl you know. Better put a ring on that old fox before it's too late. Nice to see people that'll speak their mind no matter how many people want to silence them. Make America Great Again.”

"Make America Great Again," Tanner said.

Erica gulped. “Y-yeah. Make America..."

They pulled into the service station a few minutes later. Erica had everything she left with, pills and all, and her car was already being looked at. For thirty minutes, she stared into the bathroom's greasy mirror and clawed at her eyes and slapped herself on the face. She tossed her hair around and gnawed where her wrist met her arm. She wanted to tear off everything she was wearing, including her skin, and leave her consciousness in the tissue-clogged drain by the sink tiles. She tore the plastic guard of the soap dispenser off the wall and threw it into the corner, shattering the semi-transparent plastic into curved shards. After digging through her purse, she found two pills of her old anxiety meds, chewed them into powder, and swallowed the residue down without water. She cried a long cry so cruel and untheraputic it could have been a counselor at a conversion camp.

Just as the station was closing, she left the bathroom to find the tech jangling her keys with a surprised smile on his face. “You got pretty lucky.”

Erica had no fight left in her eyes, but she wanted to stab him to death with her gaze alone.

“Turns out your battery was disconnected. Damage looks nasty but it's all cosmetic. Everything on the inside? Good as it's ever been. Smoke was just vapor from the cold."

Erica snatched the keys and drove almost all the way home that night where she found a ditch with a clear, mooseless path. Then she hit the gas.

She woke to the sound of doctors arguing, and then fell back to sleep.