Foreword from Saxon Hart
First thing I have to say is Thanks to qmh1 for writing 500 Annies. Why am I thanking another author for writing a story? Because it inspired this one. I read 500 Annies with great enthusiasm. When I was done I read the feedback and some of the suggestions for how he might deal with Annie being a whore. I was composing a feedback suggestion in my head when it struck me that the idea was too good to feed to an author who had probably already decided the path of Annie so I used the voice record feature on my phone to lay out a quick outline.
This is a burn the bitch tale told from the bitch's perspective. There are a few dark spots in this one so consider yourself warned.
I also want to thank PapaGus for editing and giving feedback on this story, as well as relate a truth is stranger than fiction factoid I learned. Around New Year 's Eve I e-mailed PapaGus to wish him a happy new year and a hope that he'd had a good Christmas. He wrote back that he was grouchy and had a birthday the day after New Year's Day and that he was turning 70.
I wrote him back and pointed out a coincidence. My birthday is also January 2nd, but I was born in 70. His reply was "Then you know you are turning 43. I was born in 43." So I had to share that tidbit, but I'll ramble no more.
"Oh yes. Oh fuck me harder Carlos. Oh god I love how you fill me up."
Carlos, encouraged by my words, fucked me harder and faster. I felt my pussy was already stretched to the limit as if Carlos was shoving a soda bottle into my pussy rather than his eight inch cock. I was bent over the settee, my legs apart and my hands braced against the wall as this man I had only met a few hours ago attacked my pussy with his large battering ram.
I knew the moment I saw him on the dance floor that I would fuck him before I left Thailand. I only wish I had met him my first night there instead of my last. I was there because my husband had to travel for a business meeting. Ken had closed the deal earlier in the day and then the boss of the Thai firm his company was dealing with, Mr. Willapana, took us out for a night of dining and dancing in a ritzy district of Chiang Mai.
When we arrived three days before, I was upset at Ken for insisting that I come with him. I had planned on spending the time that Ken was away gloriously naked and sweaty with Jeff, our neighbor's 22 year old son whom I had been fucking since his 18th birthday. Jeff had seduced me the day after his birthday party, when I was helping his mother Sandra clean up.
Sandra and her husband Dale had thrown Jeff a huge bar-b-q party and their yard had been left in shambles. Sandra got called away to relieve her co-worker for an hour or two so the woman could take her son to the dentist. I told Sandra that I'd stay and finish up for her.
Jeff had been cleaning the pool as Sandra and I had cleaned the yard. Dale was hauling the chairs and tables back to the places he had gotten them, as well as returning the empty kegs to the liquor store.
I went into the house with all of the table cloths and towels that had been used at the party. I took them down into the basement and loaded them into the washing machine. I started the machine and turned to see Jeff standing there in his wet trunks.
"I'm through cleaning the pool Darlene. Mind if I toss my trunks into the wash with the towels?"
Before I had a chance to object, he slithered out of his trunks and I was looking at the most beautiful cock I had ever laid eyes on. He was a full nine inches and as big around as a coke can. Ken isn't built badly, but I just was in awe of Jeff's member.
"Like what you see?"
I blushed because I hadn't realized I was staring. "It's fucking gorgeous." I said before I could stop myself. Jeff got a smile like a shark and eye locked on my stiff nipples. They were readily visible under the white tank top I was wearing. I could feel my pussy getting rapidly wet and suddenly had the absurd thought that Jeff was an animal and could smell my arousal.
"Oh, you do like what you see. I know you want some of it. It's ok, I don't bite ... hard."
My mind was reeling. I had never even dreamed of cheating on Ken. He and I had each had lovers before we married but we had been completely monogamous since getting together in our junior year at USC. All thoughts of Ken flew from my mind as I grasped Jeff's magnificent cock.
My hands seemed to move of their own volition as I stroked his cock to its full mass. I didn't even notice when he undid the button of my jean shorts and shoved them down my thighs, ripping my panties off and exposing my neatly trimmed cunt in the process. I gasped as he worked a finger into my sopping wet hole and began to finger fuck me. Before I knew it, he had my tank pulled up and over my head and one of my nipples in his mouth.
I let out a screech as the first orgasm overtook me. I swooned and almost fell over, but Jeff kept me from falling and lifted me up onto the washing machine. I tried to protest but he soon had his tongue working over my clit and I was once again riding the waves of ecstasy. He flicked and nibbled at my clit for what seemed like forever. He'd get me close to another orgasm and stop licking.
Finally he worked me up until I was cumming again. Just at the peak of my orgasm he stood and pushed his mammoth cock into me. The feeling of his cock stretching my cunt was incredible. I had never cum as hard as I did when he entered me. As I rode the waves of orgasm number two he began a slow and rhythmic thrusting into me.
As he fucked me on the washing machine that day I never thought about Dale or Sandra coming home and catching us or of what Ken would say. It was just me, Jeff, and his cock; nothing else mattered.
As I came for the third time, Jeff turned me over and put the head of his cock against my little brown hole. Ken has always wanted to fuck my ass but I had never let him. He had fingered it a time or two but I never let him go further. Now Jeff had the head of the biggest cock I'd ever had inside me pressed to my ass and I had no doubts I was going to let him have me however he wanted me.
I felt his spit hit me directly between my ass cheeks and run down my crack over my asshole. He used the head of his mammoth prick to swirl the spit and the copious amounts of my own juices all over my hole. Then he reached forward and tweaked my nipples. Soon he had me shaking again and I could feel the heat from his cock poised at my virgin entrance.
One of his hands moved to my clit and began diddling it. My legs began to tremble and my belly fluttered as another orgasm began to take me. Just as I began climaxing, Jeff pushed the head of his cock into my ass.
At first the pressure was tremendous, and then came the pain. It felt like he was tearing my little hole to shreds. In the midst of my pain I realized he didn't even have more than an inch or two in my ass. I was about to tell him to pull it out when he rubbed my clit faster bringing on yet another orgasm.
When I had ridden the waves and came down I realized that during my climax he had pushed the rest of his cock into my ass and it didn't hurt so much. I began to relax my muscles and be started thrusting in and out of my ass.
I don't know how long he fucked my ass that first time, I only know that I came two more times while he did and he was still going strong. We changed positions a couple of times and we ended up in the missionary position but his cock was in my ass. After a while fucking like this he pulled out and thrust his cock into my face.
I never let any man into my ass, so the idea of ass to mouth was so foreign that it had never crossed my mind. Now here I was, naked as the day I was born, juices pouring from my pussy, my ass gaping wide open and this kid was pushing his cock, streaked with feces, into my mouth and throat. In no time I was sucking him like a porn star and after a few minutes was rewarded with several jets of red hot cum down my throat. Although he filled my mouth, I never spilled a drop.
Jeff kissed my head and then retreated, still naked upstairs. As I gathered my clothes I heard the shower running. I quickly dressed and went into the back yard and picked up the last few things and then went home.
For three weeks I didn't see Jeff again and vowed to be faithful to Ken. Then during a Labor Day picnic I found myself with Jeff's cock in my mouth as Ken stood not 100 yards away cooking burgers.
Jeff and I saw each other every few weeks that fall and winter. As spring came and went I found myself making excuses to put myself where Jeff and I could steal away and have our fun.
Then shortly after Jeff's 19th birthday Ken got a promotion that put him on the road far more often allowing Jeff and I more opportunities to explore each other. I never passed up an opportunity to have that cock in my three holes, so naturally I was disappointed when Ken insisted that I accompany him to Thailand.
"Family is very important to Mr. Willapana, and my bosses insist that he sees that family is important to Emerson and Son's as well. I need you to come with me Darlene."
I figured as bad as I had been I at least owed him this one favor, besides when else would I get to visit Asia? The first couple days had been dull and boring. I mostly ate alone as Ken dealt with Mr. Willapna and his people, but finally Ken came to the hotel and told me to get dressed up because the deal was done and we were going to party.
I had seldom seen Ken want to party so I figured I'd take full advantage, and who knew, he might even win me fully back from Jeff. We went and ate at a fine restaurant and then Mr. Willapana's limo took us to the clubs. It turned out that I was the only wife in the group. Ken explained that the other wives had to care for children or be ready to work the next morning.
Once we got into the club Ken reverted to boring old Ken leaving me begging to dance. He told me if I wanted, to go ahead and dance, it didn't harm anything. That was when I found Carlos, or more like Carlos found me. I was slightly embarrassed at first when Carlos would grind on me. I could feel his large cock through his jeans. It wasn't as nice as Jeff's but it was nice.
Ken and his cronies were paying very little attention to me so when Carlos asked me to meet him later I didn't object. He slipped me his room key and directions to his hotel. I looked at them and luckily it was the same hotel Ken and I were in.
Ken was asleep five minutes after we returned to our room, I had gone into the bathroom to freshen my make up, I slipped out the door and made my way to Carlos' room. He wasted little time getting me naked and getting his cock into my mouth. I made him cum quickly and was slightly disappointed. "Don't worry baby," he said, "Now I can go for hours."
I lost track of time as Carlos took me to heaven. At one point I think I passed out but he splashed me with some water and we continued our fuck fest. Mainly he took me from behind, and he knew what he was doing. A few times I was worried we'd break the settee he had me against.
I looked down my body to catch a glimpse of his large cock and saw the sheen of sweat covering me. My 36C breasts swung as he pounded me. I think I was on my fourth orgasm when Carlos grunted and held fast as he pumped what felt like a gallon of molten hot cum deep into my body.
He collapsed on top of me and we lay there for several minutes, basking in the afterglow of awesome sex. "So," said Carlos in his heavily accented English, "Does your husband ever make you cum as hard as I did?"
The sun was threatening to peek over the horizon as I snuck back into my room. I crawled into bed and spooned into Ken. I had showered with Carlos before I left, and got my ass fucked in the hot spray, so I was free of all of the sperm Carlos had pumped into me.r
I swear I thought I felt Ken's skin crawl as I moved into him, but I was too tired to think about it. At least I'd get to sleep on the flight home which left in four hours.
The sudden introduction of sunlight to my face brought me out of my slumber. A quick glance at the clock told me I had slept a whole three hours. Ken had opened the blinds letting the bright day end my night.
"Come on Dar. We have to be ready in twenty minutes."
Usually Ken wakes my by lightly tickling the small of my back, but with our obvious time constraint and the fact that his gentle wake ups usually ended up in a sex session, maybe he had the right idea.
We caught the car to the airport and arrived in time to meet Mr. Willapana and his wife. I stuck my hand out to shake but they just looked at it like it was something dirty to be avoided. She looked me over once and turned back to her husband. I felt insulted but realized I didn't know their culture or customs so I got over it quickly.
Ken and Mr. Willapana talked and his wife kept casting sidelong glances in my direction. They spoke in low tones so I couldn't hear what they were saying. Finally Mr. Willapana bade us farewell and we went to our gate. I went to the closest restroom so that I wouldn't need to pee on the flight to Bangkok.
Ken was talking to the lady at the ticket counter when I got back to the gate. He saw me and walked over. "Dar, there's been a mix up and I'm afraid we won't get to sit together on the plane. They do have it fixed for the international flight though."
I was disappointed, but tried not to show it. I felt kind of lucky because I felt like Ken could smell Carlos on me. I got another slight shock when I saw Carlos sitting at the same gate that Ken and I were at. He looked up and saw me and looked like he was about to greet me but when he saw Ken he quickly looked away. He was sitting off to the left of us and behind us so I couldn't look his way without Ken knowing. I could feel him staring at me though. In my guilt ridden mind I wondered if Ken could feel his hot stare as well.
We boarded the plane. Ken was five rows from the entrance and I was several rows back on the same side. When Carlos got on he walked past me without a glance. I sat back and closed my eyes. I knew it was at least an hour long flight to Bangkok and I intended to get a nap. The flight attendant gave me a blanket since the plane's AC was set on "igloo."
My eyes had only been closed for a minute or two when I felt someone settle into the seat next to me. I almost screamed when I felt a hand slide up my thigh. My eyes shot open and I saw Carlos sitting next to me.
"I traded sitting with that woman so to be next to you," he said.
"My husband is right up there," I hissed, "What if he sees you?"
"What? Some rule says a man and woman can't sit together on planes?"
About that time the flight attendants started their safety announcements and seat belt demonstrations in three languages. All through the demonstration Carlos rubbed my thigh. I was wearing a pair of khaki shorts with flared legs so he'd be able to reach my pussy easily.
I kept watching Ken's head as the plane was pushed back and the engines were started. As we began to taxi, Carlos pushed his thumb into my pussy. I almost came as the plane lurched forward forcing the digit deeper into me. I reached over and palmed his cock through his jeans. I came as the plane banked to the south and climbed out.
I pulled Carlos' cock out of his jeans and began stroking him in earnest. I wanted so bad to just climb on him and get fucked all the way to Bangkok. We played with each other for the entire flight. I came three times and just as we were starting our approach I slipped down and allowed him to cum in my mouth.
I went to the plane's lavatory to freshen up and straighten my hair. I returned to my seat just as the captain turned on the "Fasten Seat Belt" sign.
"You have been a real pleasure Darlene, too bad we go in different direction from here."
"Thank you Carlos, you have been awesome as well, but I'm not sure I could handle you every night, although, I probably wouldn't mind trying."
Ken was waiting for me outside the gate. He actually looked more pleasant than he had earlier. Maybe the stress of the deal had left him, or the flight had relaxed him, or maybe even the prospect of going home cheered him.
"Did you have a good flight honey?" he asked.
"Yes I did. I napped and feel much better now." I lied.
We walked across the airport to the international flight area. We had to pass through a more thorough security check than we had to earlier. The severe looking man in a paramilitary uniform took my passport and another began searching my purse and carry-on bag.
We collected our papers and bags and started walking toward the gate. I hadn't made more than twenty steps when I was tapped on the shoulder. I turned to see a stern faced policeman and one of the paramilitary security agents.
"Mrs. Darlene Ingalls. You need to come with us please."
Ken turned around "What do want with my wife sir?"
"Your wife? You need to come with us too."
They led us to a secure area beyond the gate area. We were then led down a long hallway. There were doors on either side of the hall with key card accessible locks. None of the doors or rooms beyond seemed to have a window.
Ken was ranting all the way about being an American citizen and demanding contact with our Embassy. I was scared and didn't say anything. I kept hoping to wake up and find this was a bad dream.
I was shoved rudely into a small room with a dented metal table and two chairs. I could see dried blood on the floor and wall, the table however, was polished to a mirror like shine. "You sit and wait!" was all the man said as he slammed the door behind me.
As soon as the door closed I could no longer hear Ken and the others. I looked at my watch; I still had just over an hour to straighten this out and make the flight home. I was sure that Ken could call on people to get us out of this mess.
An hour later two men walked into the room. One was dressed in a suit and tie and had a gentle look to him. The other was a harsh looking policeman. I stood and said "You have made a mistake." I meant to ask about my husband but the policeman put his hand on my shoulder and pinched. There was tremendous pain as he forced me back into the chair.
Tears rapidly filled my eyes and I felt like I was going to vomit. The man in the suit said something to the policeman in Thai but I couldn't understand him. He seemed to be admonishing the man.
"You must excuse officer Montri," said the man in the suit, "He get a bit over-zealous at times. Please relax. May we get you a beverage?"
I was scared and hurting. I wiped the tears away from my eyes and asked, "Why am I here? I haven't done anything. Where is Ken?"
"Oh Mr. Ingalls is fine. We are here to talk about you Mrs. Ingalls."
"I want a lawyer. I want a representative from my Embassy. I have rights." I said.
He sat there staring at me for at least five minutes and then got up and walked out of the room. Officer Montri slammed the door as they left and I was again alone with my thoughts.
An hour later the man with the suit walked back in followed by three policemen. Officer Montri wasn't with them. "Please stand," said the man in the suit.
As soon as I stood my head was grabbed and I was forced to bend over the table. "Oh my God I'm going to be raped!" I thought. But rape was not their intention. My hands were rudely pulled behind my back and shackled. Another policeman was shackling my feet and a chain was attached to my ankle shackles and then to my wrist chains and then to a collar that was placed around my neck.
I opened my mouth to protest only to have a gag installed in it and strapped around my head. Then they placed a black bag over my head. I was forcibly led out of the room and down the hall again. They took me through a very noisy area and pushed me into a van or truck.
I felt someone connect a chain to my wrist chains and hook it to the floor of the vehicle. The truck lurched and jolted over the road. I almost fell over a few times but the chains painfully prevented that from happening. I could hear traffic moving on either side of our vehicle and the other occupants talking in Thai.
I wondered if Ken was on board this vehicle too or was he still at the airport wondering about me. He might have been killed by these people and now they were going to take me and use me in a state run whore house or something. "Calm the fuck down you stupid bitch," came my mother's voice out of my inner mind. Hers was always the "voice of reason" when I let my imagination run away.
After what seemed like hours we came to a stop. The chain holding me in place was unhooked and I was pulled to my feet by the collar chain. I was pulled out of the vehicle and led into a building. We made several turns and rode an elevator down. I was then led down a long hall and put into a room. They sat me in a chair and chained me to it. I heard them leave and close a door. I could hear a humming sound. It took me a few minutes to realize it was a heater. It had to be 100 degrees outside and it felt like it was as hot or hotter in that room.
I was hot, tired, hungry and scared. I don't know how long I sat there but I know at least two meal times had passed. The chains prevented me from sleeping, I'd start to nod off and I'd choke myself. I couldn't see anything, even the bottom of the bag was tucked in to prevent light from seeping through.
Even though the room was as silent as a tomb, I would have sworn I heard Ken screaming in agony. I could see the image in my head of him being burned or cut by these people trying to get him to confess to something we hadn't done. The longer I sat there the clearer I could hear his pain.
I was about to scream when the door opened. I could hear laughter in the hall but no screams. The man inside the door way seemed to be enjoying his conversation with a colleague in the hall. I realized that Ken's screams had been figments of my imagination.
The door closed and once again the room was silent. Then I could hear someone moving around behind me. Hands reached down and untied the hood I wore and lifted it off of my head. Then they unclasped the gag and removed it from my mouth. The man in front me now wore a suit but I saw a badge clipped to the inside of his jacket. He laid a metal clipboard, like truck drivers use, on the table and sat down.
He had a look of curiosity on his face as if he'd never seen a redhead before. He pulled a few sheets of paper from a compartment in his clipboard. I could see my picture on one page but I couldn't tell what was written there.
I hadn't realized just how thirsty I had become until the gag had been removed. "May I please have some water sir?'
He looked at me for a moment and then he spoke. "I can arrange for you to have a beverage if you are willing to talk to me Mrs. Ingalls.
He motioned to someone standing behind me. A bottle of water was placed in front of me. I reached to get it and realized I was still tethered.
"Oh, you can't reach in with your bindings on. But if you'll answer a few questions I can loosen them."
I nodded. I didn't have a clue as to what he might ask, but I was ready to do anything to get out of this situation. I hoped that Ken had called the consulate already and had help on the way.
"Mrs. Ingalls, will you tell me who gave you the opium you were caught smuggling?"
For a crazy instant I though he asked me about opium. It had to be a mistake because I didn't even have any ibuprofen let alone any illicit drugs like opium. "I beg your pardon. Did you say I was smuggling opium?"
He got an icy look in his eyes. "I know my English isn't close to that of an American, but I know I asked the question clearly. Who are you smuggling opium for Mrs. Ingalls?"
I just sat there stunned. How could they think that I was smuggling anything? I hadn't left my room except to go eat and the night out with Ken and his business partners. "I didn't smuggle anything." I croaked.
Without a word the man stood and walked out of the room. The door slammed and once again I was alone with my thoughts. I was parched and they had left the bottle of water on the table. I tried to reach for it but I was shackled too tightly.
I jerked and jolted and hoped that my bindings weren't as tight as they seemed. All I managed to do was cause pain in my arms and work up a bit of a sweat. All I could do was stare at the bottle as the condensation beaded up and cover the outside of the bottle.
I wanted so badly to even just lick the cool moisture from the outside of that bottle. Several drops became large enough to run down the bottle starting a puddle on the table's surface.
As time passed more of the precious liquid joined the puddle on the table and I grew thirstier. Just as I thought I would scream the door opened and someone entered the room behind me.
I turned my head and saw it was the same officer who had been questioning me a little while before.
"Opium; Mrs. Ingalls. I'm sure you don't really want to see it reaching the youth on the streets of your destination do you?"
"But I wasn't smuggling anything." I barely whispered. He looked perturbed and grabbed the bottle of water and took a big pull from it. I wanted to scream as I watched the level of the water getting lower in the bottle.
He smacked his lips and sighed with satisfaction. "That was good." He said. "As hot as it is in this room, only a cold drink of water can be so satisfying."
If I hadn't have been so parched I'm sure the tears would have flowed. I suddenly understood that if I didn't talk about smuggling opium I wouldn't get a drink. "OK. OK, I'll talk." I managed to gasp out.
I had no idea what to say but an absurd though came to me. I knew Carlos had gone into Bangkok and doubted they could find him. "It was Carlos." I said. "He offered me five hundred dollars to carry half of his opium for him."
"Who is this Carlos Mrs. Ingalls?" he asked.
"He sat next to me on the plane from Chiang Mai. He gave me the opium when we were in the air. I pulled a blanket over us as we transferred it from his bag to mine."
The man looked at me and the pushed the bottle towards me, but he stopped with it an inch away from my grasp. I sobbed with frustration then I looked up at the man. He smiled and said, "So Mrs. Ingalls, you admit to smuggling opium?"
"Yes! Yes, I admit I smuggled the opium." I said as he pushed the water into my hands. I drank deeply as he got up and left the room. As I savored the cool refreshing water, the thought that I had just admitted to a major felony never crossed my mind.
A short time later the door opened and three police officers entered the room. The man who had questioned me earlier was not among them. Two tall and lanky men began removing my tethers from the floor.
One of the men said something to me. I heard my name in what he said but I understood none of it. I just looked at him with a questioning look on my face. He frowned, and then with lightning speed hit me across my face knocking me to the floor.
He pulled me to my feet roughly and repeated his earlier words and then drew back to hit me again. At this point a short heavyset woman came storming into the room and tore into the man. He hung his head as she screamed at him. She turned to me and looked closely at my face. She said something I couldn't understand and the man walked out.
"I apologize for officer Dahking. He won't bother you any longer." She said to me. "We are taking you to central prison to hold you."
I had no time to contemplate her use of the word prison before I was whisked out of the room and down a long hall to an elevator. I wondered if Ken was behind any of the doors or he'd been taken to prison as well.
We rode the elevator down six floors and came to a security door. The woman punched some numbers on the lock pad and the heavy door swung inward. The first thing I noticed was how clean the place was. I had half expected a dirt yard and bamboo cages.
The prison looked like any American prison. Concrete walkways led to steel-doored cells with small windows. All I could see was the cells on this floor.
The next thing that struck me was the aroma of food. I suddenly realized just how long it had been since I had eaten anything. I was about to ask about a meal when we halted in front of a door. The woman said something into a walkie-talkie and the door popped open.
She walked me inside a small room. It was just wide enough that I couldn't reach both walls with out-stretched arms, and it was not so deep that I couldn't stretch on the floor and have my feet on the far wall and my hands on the door. Along one wall was a steel bed with a single blanket on it. There was a toilet in the opposite corner and a small steel basin was affixed to the wall halfway between the toilet and the door.
The woman removed my cuffs and backed out of the cell, slamming the door behind her. "I will see if the food staff is still about." She said through my window. I turned to thank her but she was gone.
After a few minutes, a round faced man looked in my window and spoke in broken English. "You no get food. Fifteen minute late. Food come in morning."
"But I have had nothing to eat today." I said. I have to admit I was dismayed by the whiny tone of my voice. "Please, I'll eat anything."
"Maybe you cooperate with police next time and not be late for food." He said as he walked away. I opened my mouth to protest but realized it wouldn't matter. I splashed lukewarm water on my face and sat on my bed.
It soon dawned on me that I had spent at least 36 hours now in police custody. I wondered where Ken was being kept. I was sure that he would get us out of here quite soon and this would just be a bad memory.
I wondered how long they could keep me before I was allowed to talk to the embassy. I would soon find out just how long it would be.
"Oh God I want to go home!" I cried. I cried for the next few days.
For the first three weeks of my incarceration I never left my cell. I got two meals a day, usually a rice porridge and some kind of vegetable, and once a week I got a third snack consisting of a sweet rice cake.
I tried to keep myself as clean as I could, but the water from the small basin was only on for a few minutes each evening. I knew I smelled like the Green Bay Packers' locker room, but there was very little I could do about that.
From what I could tell, very few of the people occupying the cells around me were never let out either. Several days after I got there, I heard the person next to me be taken from her cell for around three hours but she hasn't been moved again since.
About an hour after this morning's meal, a portly woman opened the portal on my door and ordered me to back up to the door to be cuffed. I became a bit nervous, but did what I was told. After I was cuffed, three officers, the woman and two men marched me down a hall to a large shower facility.
"Strip!" the woman said. The two men stood there watching me seemingly more curious than anything else. I was about to protest having to strip in front of the men, when I noticed the rather large baton the woman was carrying.
I knew if I didn't comply, I would feel the business end of that baton. I stripped my putrid clothes off and was pushed into the shower area. The taller of the two men grabbed a hose and began spraying me. The water was mildly warm and was high pressure. It hurt my skin and I quickly discovered that I had raw patches from the lack of bathing. I was also in desperate need of a shave.
After a couple of minutes of being soaked with the hose, the shorter of the men handed me a small cake of soap. I immediately lathered myself up with the soap. I washed my hair and body with the same soap.
As soon as I was covered with the thin film of suds, they tuned the hose on me again. It seemed the man spent a little longer than necessary hosing off my ass, but I kept my mouth shut.
When he stopped hosing me down, the short man handed me the soap, and the woman said "Again."
After a third repeat I was handed a hand-towel sized piece of cloth similar to bed sheet material to dry off with. Once I was reasonably dry, I was handed a plain tan muslin shift, and a pair of sandals.
Once I was dressed, I was re-cuffed and led to the elevator. On the way down the woman said to me in a conversational tone, "You want to be careful of what you say about your stay here. It can get worse."
"How odd?" I thought to myself. I hadn't said a word to anybody and she was acting like I was a complaint machine. They led me to a room with a small wooden table. The room was small, but it was two stories tall, and had portals for guards to watch over the room from above.
Shortly after my guards left, two different guards appeared in the portals. Moments later the door opened and a man resembling a disheveled Dennis Franz entered the room. He wore a red and green Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, a cheaply made straw hat and a pair of Ray Ban Wayfarers straight out of the 80's. He carried an old beat up attaché case which he dropped on the table as he sat across from me.
"Damn it's hot out there today. I swear." He said with a slight British accent as he pulled a folder of papers from his case and began perusing them. "Darlene Ingalls; age 32, registered Democrat from Oakland California, married to one Kenneth Lawrence Ingalls for ten years. Mmm Hmm." He continued scanning through and then his eyebrows shot up in an almost comical fashion. "Confessed to opium trafficking." He looked up at me over his Ray Bans. "Mrs. Ingalls, if you'll pardon my French; it looks like you are in deep shit."
I was suddenly pissed off that my husband would hire such an incompetent boob to represent me on such serious charges. "Did Ken hire you to represent me?" I asked him.
He gave me a funny look and chuckled. "Oh no Mrs. Ingalls. Excuse my lack of manners. I am Ian Buchanan with the U.S. embassy here in Bangkok. I should have been here weeks ago, but your file just hit my desk two days ago."
"Well what about Ken? Have you seen him? Is he here too?"
"I'll have to look into that Mrs. Ingalls. I haven't received anything on him." I suddenly wondered why it had taken so long for me to talk to a representative of my government, and why he didn't know anything about my husband.
We talked for maybe half an hour before he hit me with it. "Mrs. Ingalls, the main reason I am here is because the high prosecutor of Thailand has notified us of their intention to put you on trial before Christmas. I need to ask you if there is anyone in The States that can hire an attorney to represent you."
"No I don't. My parents died ten years ago. My sister and I had to sell all of their possessions to cure their debts, then Louise hooked up with a guy and ran off. I wouldn't even know how to find her. My husband and I have money if you can get access to it."
He stood to leave and the thought ran through my head to ask him if I could be moved to a better facility. Just as I was about to open my mouth I saw both guards intently watching me. I thanked Ian for his attention and he promised to see what he could find out about Ken. He said he'd also look into an attorney for me.
He stood and the door opened. In no time he was gone and the three guards were in the room cuffing my hands again. They didn't say a word as they ushered me to the elevator and back to my cell. I was thankful that I got to keep the shift since my old clothes were pretty much hazardous waste.
I cried myself to sleep every night for the next three weeks. I knew Carlos had to have planted the opium in my bag. I didn't know why, but I prayed they'd catch him and he'd confess and clear my name so that I could go home. I felt even worse that my infidelity had gotten my beloved Ken into trouble. What must he think? Unless he and his company were smuggling drugs he had no clue why this had happened.
I didn't think Ken was a drug smuggler though. We had a few times when we struggled to make payments, and we didn't often have money to splurge. Drug dealer have cash to spare and I know we didn't. I was scared that Mr. Buchanan would tell me that Ken and I didn't have enough money to hire a competent Bangkok attorney. It took one month for me to get an answer.
I was awakened by a baton banging on my cell door. I had been sick for the past three days, and there was no compassion to be had from the jail staff. I had resorted to flushing my meals down the toilet when I wasn't hungry after I was force fed by three of them on the first morning of my illness. As I came awake I realized that I didn't feel nearly as bad as I had the day before.
A cold fear ran through me that somehow they had discovered that I was flushing my food and were here to punish me for that. I felt my stomach clench and I broke out in a cold sweat.
Then I realized that this was a transportation detail. I backed up to the door and was cuffed. I was once again taken to the shower room and hosed and soaped several times. Again I was given a clean shift, but not new sandals, and led to the same room where I had talked to Mr. Buchanan before.
Moments later the door opened again and Ian Buchanan walked through followed closely by another man. Today Ian was wearing a paisley print button shirt and blue shorts. He wore the same hat and Ray Bans and carried the same attaché case.
Following him was a short balding Asian man. He had an open and friendly face, but his eyes were very businesslike. He was dressed conservatively and carried a pair of yellow legal notepads.
"Darlene Ingalls, allow me to introduce Kenji Kasagawa. He's an attorney in town from Nagasaki to defend a Japanese national who is accused of prostitution, amongst other things, and he has agreed to defend you as well."
Mr. Kasagawa bowed to me and then sat down. Ian opened his attaché case and looked up at me as I sat. "I have not been able to find anything out about your husband through local official channels. I have requested that the State Department look into it, but with the holiday season arriving I doubt we'll know anything before your trial, unless the Thai government tells us."
I felt my stomach drop. I knew that these foreign governments sometimes made Americans disappear, and I fear that had happened to Ken.
"I also tried to look into your financial situation." Ian said. "Your bank accounts are closed, whether they have been seized, which is likely given the situation, or not seized, the bank couldn't tell me. I have a request into the State Department to find out the answer to that as well."