Headline stories of foreign prisons is nothing short of breathtaking to Americans who in travels have heard horror tales of how it feels to be suddenly thrown behind bars and declared guilty of a crime without the right to counsel. In Greece, one is guilty until proven innocent; in Turkey, the firing squad takes care of it, and in Russia, the no-man's land of Siberia is just punishment... and in Mexico you get on your knees and beg, money in hand. Sometimes its easier when you're female, blonde and very pretty.
Ask Helga Anderson, heroine of Edward Mitchell's explosive novel Prisoner in Mexico, and she'll tell you how it feels to come fresh from the wheat fields of North Dakota to Mexico on a semester break from college and suddenly be pounced upon by the Aduana and dragged off to a filthy prison. If the physical discomforts of substandard conditions aren't enough to scorch the nerves, the psychological impact of threat is: "Perhaps after a few months of fighting off lesbians and cockroaches, the Se�orita will change her mind and decide to cooperate...?"
How does a woman with no legal counsel and no money free herself? Some readers might disapprove of Helga's sensual approach to freedom and, more staunchly still, to her unexpected reaction at seeing her cellmate flogged and sexually attacked, left naked and bleeding. For Prisoner in Mexico is about masochism... about that little lascivious spark in all of us, that dark desire called helplessness, capable of wiping out all guilt and emotion. Some reader may be aghast at this moral turpitude under captive conditions, but then, we don't know, do we... until we try for ourselves?
The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
Helga Anderson's nineteen year old heart pumped faster, flushing her apple cheeks deeper red as she stole furtive glances at the bristly handle-bar mustache sprouting from the swarthy custom agent's upper lip, above a row of impossibly white teeth. God, what a knock-out! she gushed silently... until he crooked his finger at her, singling her out from the horde of poverty stripped Mexicans carrying crates of chickens and the straggly, sun-bronzed backpackers toting crying babies surrounding her in the stifling Nuevo Laredo bus station border check point, buzzing with flies and raucous Spanish chatter.
Hardly proper, was it, for a custom's official to treat an American lady with such blatant salacity? Again, Helga's virginal Scandinavian blonde hair and blue eyed beauty was getting in the way.
"Si, Se�orita... eet ees you I want to talk to," the young agent pointed an accusing finger at her.
"But..." Helga's incredulous robin-egg eyes trailed over, questioning the one's staring back at her, before locking finally on the stony chocolate eyes, bushed over by heavy brows meeting over the bridge of a Spanish nose.
"But... what? Oh, my God, what... are you...?" Her tiny fist flew to her mouth as a guard sprang from nowhere and tore the suitcase from her grip, unlatched it, and dumped out her clothes, breaking the terra cotta ceramics she'd bought on the street for her roommate back in Fargo. Like a dog digging for a bone, the official clawed at the lining of her new suitcase, ripping it to shreds until he found what he was looking for.
The San Antonio-bent crowd sucked in their breath, whispered behind upheld hands and crowded together like so many chickens in the rain while two aduana charged from the office, tromping over luggage and shoving people aside amidst a deafening squawk of chickens and frightened babies clinging to their mothers' necks.
The two officers pounced on her, grabbed her under the arms and, in the next conscious moment, Helga remembered a greasy-faced officer stroking her silken hair bleached to platinum under two weeks of Mexican sun, lusty sounds rattling in his throat. A metallic rattle sounded and sweaty palms clamped cold steel handcuffs over her tiny wrists, burning into her baby soft pink flesh... then locked shut. Unforgettable, too, was the foul man-smell of stale cigarettes and perspiration, coupled with the repulsive feel of his stuffed body rubbing against hers, sandwiched in the back seat of the squad car... and disgusting was the erection he pushed down with the heel of his hand while he and the driver snickered in lewd undertones as they sped through Nuevo Laredo's streets, scattering chickens, mangy dogs scouring the gutters for food and half-naked children. Outside of a building marked Policia, the car came to an angry screech and Helga instinctively knew her hell had yet to begin...
A faceless person grabbed her cold hand, stuck her thumb on a wet ink pad and smeared her print on the paper, while unseen hands snaked up from behind to rake over her lush body, stroking her full breasts and coming down over her smooth rippling belly to rummage in the vee of her femininity. This perfunctory tortured finished, Manuel, the mustached military man, unceremoniously ushered her into a windowless room, dank with cigarette smoke and empty, save for a filthy mattress dumped in the middle of the floor and a naked light bulb dangling from the ceiling, next to which hung a sticky fly strip dotted with dead, insects. Helga spied what resembled a front tooth lying on the cement floor below a smudge of sticky red blood and, afraid to look the policeman in the eye, she gulped and licked her parched lips, running her velvety pink tongue over her perfect white teeth. Panic, worse than the fear of flunking final exams, shot through the tall, well curved Norwegian girl from North Dakota when the metal hinged door behind her slammed shut ominously. Helga thought she might vomit right there, and judging from the spots caked on the grimy floor, she realized others had done just that.
Manuel's black eyes sparkled animalishly, reminding her of a coiled snake's shallow-eyed stare. She shivered, even in the heat of the afternoon. What had she done to deserve this?
He spun around in mid-pace. "You know a Se�or Kinsey?" he asked in a heavy Mexican accent and swiped at a fly landing on the tip of his nose.
Douglas Kinsey? Helga shivered again, her jaw falling slack. "Yes... yes, I met Douglas on the beach in Mazatlan," she answered tremulously, trying to sound both calm and cooperative. A forced smile withered on her face when she realized neither would do any good.
"Ah ha!" Manuel chortled, running his thumbs over the smooth well-used length of his gashed night stick, while he made circles, his leather soled boots slapping on the cement floor, gnashing like salt on the grime as he turned in mid-pace. "You two were... lovers?" The tips of his moustache twitched lewdly.
"No! We... were just friends. He gave me a place to stay... and that suitcase when... somebody stole mine... and..."
"And you conspired weeth heem to smuggle seex kilos of pure Peruvian rock cocaine in the Se�orita's false-bottomed suitcase," he charged undiplomatically, spinning around on his heel and bathing her neck with hot jets of stale cigarette smoke breath.
"No! No... I didn't! I DIDN'T!" She was frantic now.
"We found eet een the bottom of your suitcase, Se�orita... you think me stupid?" His eyebrows knit together in a Machiavellian hint at torture. "We were teeped off, you see, by narcotic officials that you might be a mule for thees Se�or Kinsey." Manual straightened to a dignified posture and shrugged his shoulders while a conquering smirk widened his grin. Rewards for this arrest would be generous. "And I suppose the Se�orita deed not know Kinsey was one of the biggest smugglers een all of Mexico?"
"No! NO! I DID NOT! I thought he was... my friend..." Helga's eyes squeezed scalding tears down her pink satin cheeks.
"But you agreed to carry hees cocaine back to the States weeth you... you... hees mule!" Manuel sucked in his breath. "We must make the final search on you," he said in a softer voice. "Take off that dress!"
Striving to hold back the tears of fear and humiliation, Helga turned her back to him and tugged at the hem of her hand-embroidered linen dress-another souvenir from Mexico she would never want to see again-and pulled it over her head, holding the wadded up garment over her braless chest. Manuel placed a hot hand on her cold arm and spun her around to face him, grabbed her dress and threw it to the floor. Automatically, her arms flew up to cross ritualistically over her naked, goosebumped breasts. He tore those away, too, leaving the shivering five-foot-six blonde with only the silken strands of her platinum hair covering the rosebud nipples of her D-cup breasts.
Needlessly, he felt the wide valley between her bronzed breasts, passing his steely fingers afterwards along the crease underneath each softly swelling mound of womanly flesh. "H'mph," he grunted, surly, his eyes boring hot holes into her puckered nipples.
Helga said nothing.
They met eye to eye as he stood before her, little beads of perspiration dotting his forehead like flecks on the fly strip overhead. "Se�orita, turn around and bend over and take off your panties."
Scarlet with mortification, the speechless and deceived blonde spread her legs and leaned forward, exposing her naked genitals to the hungry eyes of the Mexican policeman.
Manuel left her in that undignified position while he produced a small cardboard box from his pocket, placed it on the floor, extracted a single-finger rubber medical examination glove, smoothed the fingerstall onto the middle finger of his right hand, and then smeared Vaseline over it from a tube he dug out of another pocket. He approached her from the front, with one greased finger held upright and the skirts of the glove falling over the rest of his clenched hand, he probed among the silky hairs covering the cleft between her lushly rounded buttocks until he found the entrance to her vagina, and shoved the finger in.
Helga gasped aloud and winced, jolted, her miasmaed mind too preoccupied with the moment to dwell on the deceptive man who'd landed her in this position.
He finally removed the invading finger with a slight squelch and peeled off the glove. "Hold that pose, un momento, Se�orita." With that, he selected another from the box, drew it on and greased it as before. "You Americanos hide strange things in the asshole... glass tubes, heroin, gun shells," he tittered and, leaning over her, he thrust the rubber-gloved finger swiftly and accurately into the tightly puckered hole of her anus.
Helga rocked on her heels. She gasped, caught her breath and bit her lips to stop from crying aloud as the intruding digit sank its full length through the tightly clenched nether ring and began worming about in the soft buttery depths of her rectum. She was almost fainting from the abject shame of this degrading examination.
Manuel withdrew the finger gently and her belly muscles contracted involuntarily as it slid past the constricting ring of her asshole. He straightened up and stripped off the glove.
Wondering dully what further indignity could be heaped upon her, the trembling blonde American closed her eyes and did as she was told:
"Open your mouth, Se�orita." Manuel pressed two fingers on her lower lip, forcing her jaw open wider still and shone a small flashlight into her mouth, turning his head this way and that to peer up at her palate and between her teeth. Finally, he snapped off the beam and stood back.
"We well be much easier on you, Senorita," he said, tucking everything back into his bulging pockets. "...eef you confess."
"Con-Confess? I didn't do anything wrong! I... I want to talk to somebody at the embassy... or-or my father. He's got lots of money and he'll pay to get me out of here." It was a blatant lie: Henry Anderson, a poor North Dakota farmer barely scratched a living from his eighty acres and, had it not been for Helga's scholarship, she would have been back in the fields even now.
"Se�orita... everybody pays to get out of Mexican preesons," he chortled. "...Een one way or another."
"My father! Let me talk to my father!" she begged, even the poor humble man had made her promise not to take this vacation alone... considering the headline horrors of Mexican prisons.
Her pleas fell on deaf ears. "Perhaps after a few months in jail of fighting off lesbians and cockroaches, the Se�orita weell change her mind and decide to cooperate with us... heh?"
"You... you can't lock me up for no reason! It's not right... It's not riiiiiight!" she screamed back, rage and fear bordering on hysteria. "Ohhhhh," her lithely tanned body wracked with sobs until a sobering hand stung across her cheek.
Helga slipped back into her panties and dress, and before she could protest; "What are you doing to me?!" she was ushered down a short hallway that opened, via a heavily clanging door, onto the tomb of cell blocks beyond.
Snaky shivers and bubbling regurgitation sweltered in a cold sweat over her body at the heady stench of locked up, unbathed bodies combined with urine and greasy dishes. An army of cockroaches parted under her feet, some crunching nauseatingly as her shoes echoed down the hallway, heading toward her cell. Curious, hollow eyed, wan faces stared speechlessly at the beautifully tanned American girl who'd fallen victim to the hell known as Mexican prison life.
CHAPTER TWO
He was so nice... gave me a new suitcase when mine was stolen... made arrangements for his friends in San Antonio to pick me up at the bus station... and never insisted I go to bed with him. Why would Douglas get me in trouble? Helga swiped at her robin-egg eyes, staring blurrily at the cracked cement floor, mesmerized by a king-sized cockroach darting from her cellmate's emptied lunch plate back into its hole in the whitewashed graffiti-smeared wall. Helga bit her lip and sniffled, wondering if she would ever see a beach, a palm tree or her family again. Nothing made sense. She sat down on the saggy bunk mattress, caked with dried vomit and blood, piecing together how her semester break vacation had ended in this damnable predicament.
"What did they get you for?" a girlish voice came from a pretty red mouth one bunk above Helga who raised her head to stare into the cool green eyes of a girl not more than sixteen years old. "They seem to like Americans here." She ran her polish-chipped fingernails through her bouncy brown curls and flopped back on the mattress.
"Really..." came a voice from the other bunk. "Wait till they get you in that questioning room and turn that hot bitch loose on you... you'll confess to anything." Karen took a second glance at her new cellmate and scraping her eyes over the puffy outline of Helga's braless nipples, she reconsidered and smirked. "Well... maybe you won't have to."
God, that must be the lesbian he warned me about!
"She would too!" snapped Polly. "She's not like you!"
"Come on, Polly... at least they give you a hot bath that way... and you wait and see... I'll get out of this dump first because I'm not playing Pollyanna with them." The girl introduced herself as Karen and explained she'd been busted for one joint and inquired whether that was the newcomer's charge, too.
Helga nodded warily and bit her lip. "That's what they say..." Fatigued, she spread out the scratchy Mexican blanket allotted her and lay down on top of it, her apple pie beauty contrasting awesomely with the squalor of this prison cell.
"You mean you haven't seen her yet?" whispered Polly, leaning over the bunk, her emerald eyes big as half dollars. She stopped short.
From the end of the hallway the fearsome echo of the chamber door opening and slamming shut sent a ripple of ultra-frequency fear vibrating throughout Helga's cell and those beyond. The slap of high heels thundered, growing with each step until they stopped outside of Helga's cell. Cautiously, slowly, Helga raised her head and craned her neck to see through the iron stripes a black haired woman with a widow's peek, dressed in a tight black sheath that hugged her balloonish breasts so tightly they bulged like rising bread dough from the bodice of her dress. In her hand she carried a whip and Helga gulped, certain she'd spied a spot of fresh blood on her spiked heeled boot. Helga withered; her cellmates said nothing.
This must be... the lesbian! Helga's Charmin-wrapper baby blue eyes stared into two menacing black ones, and the cruelties they failed to convey were reflected in a taut-lipped mouth twisted perfidiously.
The raven-haired warden rattled a key loose from the chain belted around her small waist and stuck it into Cell number 5. Across the bunks Helga heard Karen gasp and above her, Polly feigned sleep.
Panic, mingled with nausea, tore through Helga as the spike heeled woman lashed her whip on the cement floor, scattering cigarette butts and roaches, and pointed a finger at Helga with the deadly aim of a gun barrel. "Come with me, Se�orita... we must prepare you for interrogation," she said with raised arched eyebrows that matched the angle of her widow's peak.
Helga slid her legs, tan as the wheat fields of North Dakota, over the edge of the saggy mattress and stood up on wobbly legs, glancing frantically at her cellmates for a hint of what was to come.
Cowering in her bunk, Polly cast solemn eyed empathy in her direction and, offering a word of consolation, was cut off curtly by Maria Garcia. "Shut up, you leetle beetch, or you'll end up in thee questioning room... with straps around your ankles!"
Helga withered at the hot feel of the woman's hand clamping over hers and spinning her into motion; but that was nothing compared to the gut-tearing panic of the warden's sizzling stares peeling over Helga's body, running her tongue over shiny scarlet lips as two eyes gored into the twin cantaloupes of Helga's firm young Scandinavian breasts poking bralessly out from under her hand-embroidered Mexican dress.
Footsteps echoed in the dingy cell block, Helga's mind reeling back to fonder days... her mother's chocolate chip cookies, warm and crumbly, fresh from the oven... the smooth ripple of her father's wheat fields waving ripe heads in the August sun and a stab of nostalgia for youth, innocence and the stuff memories are made of flitted ephemerally away from her like so much chaff. They... they might kill me!
The warden's heels snapped spikily on the cement floor and, as they passed the last cell, Maria prodded her prisoner with the butt-end of her whip, guiding her into a small room containing a wall cabinet, a paint-chipped bench, and a rusted shower nozzle.
"Take off that dress!" Maria's voice could freeze icicles in July. "We must get you clean for Manuel... He likes hees women clean... and golden haired like the Se�orita!"
Mortified at being forced to undress before the lustful eyes of this blatant lesbian, Helga turned her back, pulled the dress over her head, folded it, set it on the bench and, sucking in her breath, pulled her panties down over her slender tanned hips, striped with a bronze bikini line, and stepped under the shower. A scream tore through the empty cement-walled room as an icy blast stung Helga's flesh. Whimpering, she twisted the knobs this way and that... but to no avail. Instinctively, she turned to the woman for help-and immediately wished she hadn't.
There stood Maria, her nefariously glinting eyes rapt on Helga's naked breast. Using one hand on her breasts and the other to rub the protruding mound of her pubis through the pencil-tight dress, she petted her body kittenishly to the rhythm of low lusty moans gurgling from her swollen chest.
God... she is a les-lesbian!
"G-give... give me a towel, please...?" Helga's teeth rattled icily.
Giving her pussy one last fingered poke, the sluttish warden opened the cabinet, threw a towel at Helga, then instructed her to bend her knees and open her legs. The warden's black polished fingertips drew out an aerosol can, aimed it at the golden vee of the prisoner's little pussy and sprayed.
"Manuel likes hees women clean... Too many bugs in this country." Maria's half naked breasts nearly touched her chin as on spike-heeled tip toes she rummaged around in the cabinet and tossed a pair of panties at Helga who didn't need to be told twice to get dressed.
The walk from the shower room and the questioning room was hardly a pleasant Sunday afternoon stroll, and Helga felt the kiss of death breathe heavy on the back of her goosebumped neck as she walked into that torture chamber, brushing past Manuel and gazing with fearful blue eyes at the clean sheet spread ceremoniously over the mattress, now pulled to the middle of the room amidst a puddle of cigarette butts.
"I told the Se�orita I would be seeing her soon." The short Mexican policeman turned on his south-of-the border charm, fingering his night stick as he spoke. "Perhaps we can have our leetle talk now?"
"I... I have nothing to tell..." Helga paused, realizing she was convincing no one. Manuel was running his fingers lightly over her neck, sending a distinct shiver up and down her spine. The man was smiling at her, a cruel, sinister smile and the young coed read the unmistakable glint of lust in his chocolate eyes.
"And now can we talk about thees Se�or Kinsey... and hees business contacts?" he purred at her in a lullaby voice. "Maria and myself can make your stay here in Nuevo Laredo most pleasant eff you weell cooperate. But before we make any promises... Maria, undress thees blonde leetle beauty for me." Helga closed her eyes, wishing she were one of those women who could escape moments like this by fainting. She held her breath, trying to pass out, but her brain refused to cooperate and she remained stubbornly conscious. Would this man force her into doing indecent things? It was too terrible a thought to contemplate, but it was perfectly obvious that Manuel's mind had switched from cocaine to sex. Instinctively, she glanced down and saw the significant bulge beneath his pants.
"No!" she pleaded desperately, wanting to resist but stunned by the total hopelessness of her position. Maria was at her side, snapping her whip, ready to begin, but the terrified blonde backed away, horrified by the prospect of being violated sexually. "I haven't done anything wrong... he tricked me. Douglas tricked me!"
Manuel tutted tauntingly. "You are hardly being cooperative, Se�orita." We want names... places."
"I... I can't tell you something I don't know!" she rasped in a hoarse, emotional voice as Maria's softly feminine hands drew the hem of her dress up over Helga's magnificent body, leaving her naked except for the pair of prison-supplied panties that looked as if they belonged on the body of a clown, rather than Helga's lush Scandinavian curves.
Manuel looked at her coolly for a long time before responding. "Has the Se�orita any idea of how many beautiful Gringas I have fucked in the past eight years since your dishonorable President Neexon declared hees war on drugs?"
Helga shook her head and stared at the floor, her lips clenched tightly as she covered her pale, naked breasts with her hands.
"Maria, tell her."
"Exactly one thousand, four hundred and eighty," the raven haired warden with hair pulled straight back from her face answered promptly, her eyes still trained on Helga's lush body.
"Maria, kindly take off the lovely Se�orita's panties."
Helga tensed, but there was no point in resistance, and she shivered nakedly as Manuel's lesbian assistant dropped to her knees and slipped the blonde girl's panties off completely.
"Ah, very nice..." commented Manuel with an air of satisfaction, stepping closer and running his finger lightly over the girl's sparse triangle of fluffy blonde pubic hair. Helga's body jerked involuntarily, but Manuel continued to inspect her as if she were a slave ready for purchase. "Ooooh, so lovely... thee General would be pleased to have her as hees special guest...?" He raised his eyebrows and looked at Maria who grinned and nodded.
"Ohhh, yess," hissed Maria. "Can I go down on her now, Manuel? Ohhh, she looks to be so fresh!"
"Maybe later," decided Manuel, leading the unwilling prisoner to the edge of the mattress and pushing her down on top of it. "Ooooh, so lovely," he purred.
"You... you can't do this to me!" whimpered Helga recklessly. "I... I've got my rights. I demand to make a phone call to my father. Somebody will help me! Somebody's got to get me out of here!" Helga was screaming, virtually beside herself with a combination of rage and terror, but to her shock, Manuel failed to react angrily to her outburst. Instead he grinned a Cheshire cat smile, undoing the belt of his pants. With a flick of his wrist, he unsnapped, then unzipped them, letting them fall to join the other litter on the floor... his hugely inflated cock, thick with lust, pointing at her like a machine gun.
"You Gringas are high spirited... I like that!"
"What about me?" pouted Maria, standing beside the mattress, legs spread wide as her skinny skirt would allow, whip tucked in the belt of her dress, hands on her well-rounded hips. As always, she was eager to do her job.
Helga was staring at the policeman's bulging penis, fascinated like a bird being hypnotized by a snake and incapable of moving.
"Get the Se�orita wet for me," he directed calmly. "She's too dry."
Maria quickly unzipped her dress and stepped out of it, stepped out of her panties, and leaving only her black garter belt, black net stockings and spike heeled boots on.
"What do they mean by 'getting me wet?' "
"Maria is a beeg help to me," offered Manuel, settling himself on the mattress and lacing his hands on her arms so that she was pinned to the mattress. "She has a way of making people talk... like the Se�orita?!"
Maria's balloonish breasts, tipped with ruby nipples, bounced as she knelt quickly to the floor between Helga's silken thighs, pushing them apart. Had the helpless young prisoner known what was coming, she would have fought back, offering physical resistance, even though it was useless, just to save her conscience. But the sloe-eyed woman was too fast, and by the time Helga understood how she was to be moistened, it was far too late to do anything about it.
CHAPTER THREE
"Se�orita, lay steel and I weell make you feel oh, so good!" Maria smacked her lips, dropping her head seductively and running her lipstick-caked lips across the virginal, softly yielding flesh of Helga's upper thighs. "I weell get you dreeping wet for Manuel!"
Helga's body froze as the wetly heated lips worked their way into her blonde pubic curls. The lesbian's tongue speared out delicately, agilely invading the girl's wantonly trembling young cunt. Helga's pelvis jerked convulsively as she reacted to this deceptively powerful stimulation, feeling Maria lick her clitoris sensitively and then suck it deliberately up into her mouth, caressing it with her tongue.
"No, please don't do this to me!" wailed Helga sincerely. "I'm not a les-lesbian!"
It was useless! Neither of the Mexican officials paid any heed to what she was saying. Manuel was stretched lazily beside her on the bed, using one hand to caress her sensitively tingling nipples and occasionally bending over with his usual sardonic chuckle to take one of the berry-like little buds between his teeth and lash at it mercilessly with his tongue. But Helga somehow guessed that he was merely waiting, letting his lesbian warden tongue-fuck her into such a dither that she would be incapable of resistance when he finally made his move.
But, oh, God, the worst of it was the humiliation! She was sprawled out, her legs spread obscenely apart with her naked cuntal flesh offered up to the lesbian warden's hungry mouth like a pagan sacrifice Helga lay frozen to the mattress unable to move, as Maria slowly and torturously drew apart the fragile pink lips of her vagina with her black-painted claws, watching it greedily for a moment, and then deliberately buried the full length of her long slippery tongue into the warmly throbbing walls of her pussy!
"Noooooooohhhh!!!!!" the futilely struggling prisoner from North Dakota moaned, feeling that these two sexual monsters were dragging her down to their own terrible level of filthy corruption, reducing her to the status of an animal. Her head came up off of the mattress in amazement, as she looked down between the quaking mounds of her naked breasts at Maria's pink little tongue licking at her wetly throbbing cunt.
"Thees is a favor the Se�orita must also return. Do pay attention and remember the details better than you do names of your Se�or Kinsey's partners..."
"Oh, please," she groaned again in anguish, flailing her head back and forth as Maria's tongue speared in and out of her involuntarily dilating cuntal lips. Despite everything, tiny, featherlike wisps of pleasure were beginning to whisper through her defenseless genitals, and she could feel her tingling nipples becoming swollen and hard as diamond chips as Manuel gently nibbled and mouthed them one after another. The man was watching her intently, his handle-bar moustache twitching, waiting for the first signs of her inevitable surrender, knowing that she had to give in sooner or later... and that would open her memory, too.
Helga began to cry, great tears of shame and humiliation flowing onto her cheeks as she realized that there was nothing she could do but lie there and listen to the obscene wet licking and sucking noises Maria was making down between her legs. She knew that the tiny nub of her clitoris was growing as hard as her nipples, and that she could not hope to conceal much longer the pitiful condition of arousal she was in. Her hips quivered lustfully despite her iron determination to lie perfectly still, and she forced herself to concentrate on the fact that she was being lewdly ravished against her will, and by a woman at that. She was not in the backseat of a car with a boyfriend, and she could not call a halt to these sordid proceedings as soon as the temperature rose too high! This was the real thing: rape!
And it was getting worse instead of better. Maria was toying with her cruelly now, exploring all the sweet, warmly perfumed mysteries of her loins with her sensitive prying finger, then, Helga felt the lesbian's tongue flicker lightly over the tightly puckered hole of her rectum.
"Aaaaahhhhh!" she moaned. "Please don't touch me there!" But her pleading only brought a lewd chuckle from the woman and a further stab of the obscenely caressing tongue into the tight sphincter ring. Apparently sensing that she had discovered a critical spot, Maria carefully inched her outstretched middle finger into Helga's defenselessly puckering anus, forcing it steadily in as far as the first knuckle while her rapacious tongue fucked ceaselessly in and out of the thrashing girl prisoner's hotly clasping cunt. This double impalement was too much, and Helga suddenly realized that she was losing her grip on reality. She was on the very edge of a slippery slope and every restless twitch of her body brought her that much closer to the abyss. Her shamelessly aroused body was jerking as if hot-wired, and her hips seemed to have given up taking orders from her brain. Without realizing it, she was on her way to complete surrender.
Manuel gazed down with mixed emotions at the nakedly shuddering young Gringa blonde beneath him. The girl obviously was going to be a problem... a hard nut to crack... because there was no way of knowing if she was merely hiding information, or if she was indeed an innocent 'mule,' as drug traffickers called the across-the-border smugglers. He had to find out if he were to win his promotion from the General who smiled upon the sight of Gringas... especially lovely blonde ones such as this Helga.
Joining the police force had been Manuel's stepping stone to power... his latest commission as narcotics officer won him a handsome salary and nobody frowned at his means of getting information from the prisoners. The grass couldn't be greener... as it were... except if he were to put Douglas Kinsey behind bars. What Mexican dope peddlers he hung out with, Manuel wasn't certain, but it was damned important.
His piercing eyes fell back on his magnificently-bodied young prisoner. It was obvious from the way her voluptuous body had come alive in the last few minutes that she had a hot, passionate streak in her as wide as an arroyo after a flood. Even now, being tongue-fucked against her will by a lesbian, she was turning on involuntarily, and Manuel studied the half-crazed expression which had crept onto her face. Abruptly, he decided that it was time for him to take over.
Helga was bucking and squirming under the mind-blowing torture of Maria's ceaselessly probing tongue, wondering how long she could tolerate this lecherous abuse without going completely berserk. Every time she opened her eyes, she could see Manuel's handsome face, his lustful eyes looking down at her below a brushy row of eyebrows, his pearly teeth, even and sparkling under the twitching moustache. Then, she watched slack-jawed as he moved his hand away from the tortured mound of his breast and tapped Maria lightly on the shoulder.
"Now, I'm going to sample that sweet leetle cunt. To fuck you weell be a real pleasure, Se�orita."
"Noooooohhhhh!" Helga managed to moan, without much conviction, but the blonde haired girl realized now precisely how weak and helpless she was. She lay still as he maneuvered over her, paralyzed by her own conflicting emotions, her soft white belly quivering and heaving in erotic need as she gasped desperately for air. Manuel kept the pressure on her, bending over cruelly and biting the sensitive little pink nipple of her left breast so hard that he left teeth marks in the softness of her flesh. She groaned in agony, trying to twist away, but the man seemed to be all over her, his hands dancing demandingly over the tender delicacy of her thighs and hips, stroking her flanks tantalizingly. He bent over again, and for an instant she feared that he was going to bite her other breast, but this time as she was preparing herself for the sharp pain, he carefully licked the trembling little coral nipple, sending a twitch of unwanted pleasure racing through her confused young body. Instinctively, without realizing what she was doing, her hips began to grind impatiently into the yielding softness of the mattress below her.
"Well; our leetle Gringa is warming up," he teased unmercifully, noticing the beginnings of sexual response on her part. "Perhaps some of us aren't so cold after all, heh?"
For some reason, his mocking talk only excited her even more, and she turned her head to one side, now almost wishing that he would go ahead and ravish her violently and painfully before her resistance dropped any lower. At all costs, she had to keep him from realizing that he had truly managed to excite her! If he could succeed in fulfilling his promise to make her 'cooperate,' physically, it would be the last defeat. If she surrendered to him, she would be behind the bars of her own conscience... and she knew it!
"The Se�orita ees very tight," he complained as he caressed her throbbing pussy with one vilely exploring hand. "You have not had many men?" Wasting no more time, Manuel levered up over her, using one hand to guide the hard rubbery shaft of his brown cock directly into the full, fleshy pink lips of her agonized young cunt. The man was getting excited himself now at the sensual thought of ravishing this nakedly helpless golden haired Gringa with the dimples in her rosy cheeks. Then he watched her blonde head turn submissively to one side as he rubbed the dark, meaty tip of his penis up and down her throbbing hair-lined cuntal slit, searching for the opening.
"Oooooohhhhhaaaahhhh," she muttered indistinctly as he found the narrow, unused hole of her cunt and began to apply a little pressure.
The Mexican policeman pushed steadily forward, putting the weight of his short but muscle-bound body behind his lust-hardened cock, and grinning sadistically as he watched her writhe in pain. The tip of his bulbous glans worked its way torturously past the tightly clasped opening, and penetrated her tight young cunt by sheer brute force.
"No... God, you're ruining me... you're hurting me!" she screamed, putting her hands uselessly against his hairy chest in a pointless attempt to push him away. It was futile; he was far too strong for her, and obviously enjoyed making her suffer as he battered his way up into her virginal pussy.
"All right," he snarled in response, his muscles tightening quickly. "Let's get it in!" Releasing the weight on his elbows, he allowed his heavy body to fall forward abruptly, crushing his muscular chest against the resilient softness of her breasts and knocking the wind right out of her. It felt as though a ton of bricks had landed on top of her.
Defensively, Helga's lithe legs splayed apart as his long purple-knobbed penis rammed mercilessly into her defenseless vagina. He was hell-bent to go all the way this time... determined not to stop until his loins crashed into her painfully bruised pelvic bone and his sperm-bloated testicles slapped obscenely against the upturned cheeks of her ass!
"Holy Christ!" Manuel swore in disbelief, then pulled his penis partially out and stared at the pink froth from her shattered maidenhood. "I deedn't think Gringas could be virgins!"
"Oh God! Oh my God!" she whispered and whimpered beneath him, too breathless to scream. The girl felt stuffed to the gills, so completely and totally filled there wasn't room to breathe. His huge throbbing penis lay sunk deep within her belly, so long and hard that she could almost feel it in the back of her throat, and her ravished, ruined vaginal passage felt as though it had been ripped to shreds, utterly destroyed forever.
For a time, neither of them moved. Maria shifted her position, sprawling next to Helga on the bed and taking one of the girl's limp hands gently in hers.
"Manuel, he ees a beeg man... si?" she smirked, speaking in her throaty Mexican voice. "A very beeg man for your first preek! No? Wait unteel he takes you in thee other place if you theenk thees ees something!"
"Nooooooohhhhh!!!!" sobbed the sacrificed virgin, too tortured by what was happening to her at the moment to worry much about the future possibility of being sodomized.
"Good for you that Maria softened you up, eh?" she beamed. "You should be grateful to Maria! Se�or Manuel might have spleet you down the meeddle!"
The lesbian warden didn't seem to require much of an answer, and Helga could think of nothing appropriate, particularly since Manuel was now flexing his bludgeoning cock within her tender pussy, deliberately trying to widen her tightly resisting pussy hole. Down on hands and knees watching every flex of the action, Maria seemed to be wanting a piece of it, and too impatient to wait her turn.
With Helga's hand still a prisoner in her own, Maria thrust her hips forward eagerly and then forced the girl's unwilling fingers into her own wetly heated pussy, immediately clamping her thighs together to hold her there in the steaming heat of her neglected pussy.
"Oh Christ," groaned the coed prisoner, not bothering to resist this latest perversion. "Is there anything worse you can do to me?"
Slowly, the man began to rock back and forth, driving his pulsing hardness in and out of Helga's painfully stretched cunt. With his native instinct for a woman's innermost feelings, he sensed that the blonde girl had given up the fight at last. She had not even resisted Maria's perverted use of her hand, and the chesty lesbian was going wild by his side as she forced Helga to finger-fuck her against her will. Yes, she was broken like a colt and from here on in it would be easy riding. His penis had never failed him before, and he knew from his vast bedroom experience that it would not take long to turn this innocent young Gringa into a squirming squealing mass of boiling passion. He had an entire cell block full of conquered young American girls and he would be adding just one more to the roster!
Manuel had no idea precisely how correct was that assumption, for Helga herself knew that she had already lost the battle against the lewd flames of desire firing through her veins. Even the agonizing pain of Manuel's brutal penetration had not brought her all the way down, and she was still tingling from the furious tongue fucking. Her brain was a kaleidoscope of confusion, and she realized vaguely that those backseat petting sessions with boyfriends were closer to the real thing than she'd suspected. Lord, sometimes it had been difficult to stop... but she had only to remember her father's temper to put an end to such blazing temptation.
The Mexican policeman looked down at the girl he was savagely fucking and decided that he was just breaking another snooty-nosed American girl who thought herself too good for low-priced Mexicans. Helga's delectable young body was twitching and jerking unconsciously, and he plastered a wet, smoky-tasting open-mouthed kiss on her succulent lips, finding to his delight that even her mouth yielded to his invasion. Lewdly, he plunged his tongue into her hot mouth, and her tongue shyly toyed with his as low servile hums of pleasurable acceptance came from deep in her throat. A light fragrant layer of perspiration was spreading across her forehead as his penis fucked, jackhammering into her ravaged pussy, and her nostrils flared like a straining horse. Manuel decided it was time to turn on the heat and drive her completely out of her mind.
He started by shifting his position, slipping his hands beneath the soft warm globes of her tanned buttocks, continuing at the same time to skewer rhythmically into her, slamming his hips into hers, mashing his pubic curls against her polished little clitoris. Her ass cheeks turned and flexed and churned in lewd dances of delight as he fucked his purple-veined penis into her squirming cunt, and he used his new leverage to pull her tight little pussy even closer so that his long hard shaft rubbed over the stiffened little bud of her clitoris. She groaned and mumbled something... almost as if she were grateful. Se�orita... ella esta listo, horita! thought Manuel cunningly, and slid his prying fingers all the way beneath her nakedly undulating buttocks until his index finger rested lightly on the tiny puckered hole of her anus. It was tight, and he reminded himself that if he ever hoped to penetrate her here, he was going to have to widen the entranceway. Besides, toying with her here, this would serve as a convincing demonstration of his power over her, and just precisely how low he had brought her. If she would accept this, she was an easy target for anything!
Without warning, he slid his outstretched middle finger into the puckering anal orifice quickly, catching her completely off-guard, and feeling the soft rubbery flesh yield reluctantly before this perverted attack.
"Aaaaahhhh," she groaned, but whether the naked young prisoner was protesting or simply moaning from the anal attack was anybody's guess. Manuel escalated by pushing a little harder... a little further, working his finger around in ever-increasing circles in her hot buttery depths to widen the opening. Soon enough, the elastic-rimmed nether hole was widened enough to slide a second finger in, and the Mexican policeman felt her outraged rectum slowly adjust to this strange and unnatural invasion. The thought that he had completely won over this snooty-nosed lying little Gringa lent a savage fury to his wild lust, and he began to fuck her with every ounce of strength in his tawny muscular body, caressing the moistly trembling inside walls of her rectum with his finger as he speared even more deeply into her wetly clasping young cunt.
"Oh Gawwwwd!" she muttered, her long, tanned, tapered legs rising up on either side of him as if she were obscenely urging him to fuck her harder and deeper. With a shock, Manuel realized he was about to cum; she teetered on the verge of cumming already, and he had not begun to open his full bag of tricks. Cunningly, he decided to get a running start and push her off the brink so hard that she would never forget this cum if she lived to be one hundred. Taking a deep breath, he quickened his thrusts, ripping his fingers from her offended rectum and seizing her hips like a bicycle's handle bars. Helga's genitals were completely open to him now and the dank room echoed with the sound of one pile-driving thrust after another as his long hard cock rammed brutally into her hair-lined little pussy.
Helga's apple cheeked beauty was so twisted and contorted with passion that her own mother would not have recognized her now and Manuel himself gritted his teeth, pounding into her with savage fury. Neither one of them were paying any attention to poor neglected Maria who was still finger-fucking herself with Helga's imprisoned hand. The lesbian warden suddenly began sobbing under the effects of a lonely but powerful orgasm, but neither Helga nor Manuel turned a head to look at her.
"I... I..." gasped Helga, her voice high and unexplainably girlish.
"Say it!" barked Manuel, knowing precisely what was happening but needing to hear it from her lips.
"I'm cumming... cumming... cummming!" the lust-crazed prisoner chanted mindlessly, her hips bucking up against Manuel's body with that strange physical power which sweeps over a woman's body at the moment of sexual ecstasy.
The policeman felt the warmness of her cunt as she flowered open to him like a rose touched by the morning sun and the hot gushes of sticky orgiastic fluid flowing copiously from her womb. The fragile lips of her pink vagina seemed to suck at him powerfully as if she were trying to milk him dry, and the man realized that he, too, was at the end of his journey. Her breath came in short desperate gasps as he felt his own hot sperm suddenly gather deep within his testicles and hose outward. The boiling cum gushed the length of his wildly spewing cock and burst into the depths of her womb, mixing joyously with the warm orgiastic fluids generated by her ecstatically shuddering body.
In a few blinding seconds, the frenzy passed, and Helga's body went limp, her legs splaying out obscenely as if there were no modesty left in her and she no longer cared who looked at her naked body or from what angle. In a rare moment of tenderness, Manuel leaned forward to kiss her gently on her laxly parted lips.
"Beast!" she spat at him. "Rapist!"
CHAPTER FOUR
They dragged her back to cell number 5 and threw her face-down on the bunk mattress where her scalding tears soaked up the scratchy blanket, sopping right on through to the mattress. Helga whimpered pathetically, stopping only to slap at a fly or cockroach. When her tears ran dry, she relaxed a bit and stared blindly at the graffiti scrawled over the white washed wall below the barred window, streaked orange now by the dying afternoon sun. Helga was deeply concentrating on the jagged outline of a clenched fist drawn crudely over the rough wall, labeled with a: "Free American Prisoners" below... when she realized someone was speaking to her.
"I said... she's good isn't she?" Karen was speaking.
"Huh?" Helga raised her head and stroked her platinum hair back from her flushed cheeks. "What who..."
The mattress above Helga squeaked and Polly threw her legs over the side. "She's talking about that bitch Maria." Something in her voice echoed of disgust. "Knock on wood she hasn't touched me yet. I'd die if she did! Yuk!"
"You'd love it!" returned Karen nonchalantly.
"You make me sick! I've told them everything they want to know and I betcha I'm outta here in a week," blasted the green-eyed girl, tossing her curls.
"Yeah... I wouldn't get my hopes up, kid. These perverts want sex... not facts! Go ahead and use your mouth for blabbing and I'll use mine to suck my way out of this dump. See who gets back to California first..."
A little squabble ensued, but Helga remained reticently neutral, staring abysmally at the wall and wondering what would get her out of here... if anything. Suddenly, a thunderous clangor stung her ears and terrified, she raised her head to see a fat, greasy-faced woman missing two front teeth running a metal spoon over the bars, announcing dinner.
Polly jumped off of her bunk and reached out for the metal plate heaped high with an indescribably mound of what resembled a liquid version of the mess caked onto the cement floor of the questioning room. She whimpered: "Is this all I get to eat? I'm hungry... and I want an enchilada... even beans would be okay."
The warden snickered, shrugged her shoulders and from her cart picked up a cheesy plate of enchiladas, chili rellenos, rice and beans... with two hot tortillas on the side. She handed it to Karen.
"But... I..." stammered Polly.
Karen cast her green-eyed cellmate a haughty glance. "You use your tongue for eating up that slop and I'll use mine for eatin' up Maria, and we'll see who crosses that border first."
Helga hadn't the energy to eat. When the sun set the room cooled to a temperate degree and she slept, dreaming of cold milk, chocolate chip cookies and rippling wheat fields.
A fly buzzing around her ear woke Helga early the next morning, and though the sky had barely turned pink, she couldn't go back to sleep. She felt dirty, uncomfortable, hungry and very, very depressed.
With the first crow of the rooster, breakfast was served: A cup of muddy coffee and a pasty tasting dried breakfast roll. Tasting none of it, she gobbled it down, finishing off the last crumbs when Maria appeared in the same black dress, boots and perfidious grin. Instead of her whip, she carried a fluffy yellow towel and washcloth, and a bar of soap.
"Come weeth me, Se�orita Helga. I run a nice hot bath for you...?"
Polly and Karen exchanged baffled glances and a knowing smirk crossed Karen's dimpled face. "Hmmm, our new cellmate is getting a bath... Guess we know where she stands... or lays!" Karen winked at Helga.
"Wh-what are you talking about?" defended Helga in a high, whiney voice, her metal cup rattling as she set it down on the tray. "Just be-because they offered me a bath doesn't mean I... I enjoyed what they did to me... how they... they ra-raped me!"
Karen tutted. "Sure, Helga..." She made an expansive gesture. "Look, kiddo, we're all human, might as well get off on it."
"You're disgusting!" spat Polly. "You have no pride, Karen!"
Maria lost her patience. "You Se�orita shut up! I put you both in chains!"
* * * * *
They bathed her in bubble-bath before taking her to the questioning room for one last go-around.
"Wh-what do you want of me now?" whimpered Helga. "I can't tell you something I don't know!"
Manuel gave her a toothy grin, a slow, evil, menacing smile which sent shivers down the girl's perfumed back. Maria was standing in front of her now, working at the zipper of her dress, shrugging it over her shoulders and stepping free as the garment folded onto the floor. Immediately, Helga knew they were planning another sexual spectacle, once again with her body as the center attraction.
"I told you I was duped! I... I don't want any more sex with you people," she begged them sincerely, her blue eyes pleading jewels in her round Norwegian face. "Please... no more, okay?"
"Hhmpf... I thought the Se�orita enjoyed our meeting yesterday. Deed not the Se�orita cum.. certainly you deed not do that to make mee feel good." He touched his fingers to his chest emphatically.
He was mocking her cruelly and she knew it, and there was nothing she could do but sit there and take it. Helga drew a deep breath and began again.
"I-I'm only human... but it should be saved for people who love each other."
"Now, now, now..." tutted Manuel, crossing his arms over his chest and watching as Maria stripped the panties off, leaving only her stockings and black lace garter belt for modesty. "Een our country we love to see women enjoy each other. Lie down, Maria while our friend here with the bad memory takes off her dress."
At that moment, Helga wished to God she was guilty of the accused crime... at least then she could confess, cooperate and take the punishment. The psychological games they played with her now sizzled with sadism.
The submissive warden was visibly trembling with perverted lesbian emotion as she stretched languidly out on the mattress, waiting for the tall blonde to strip naked and join her in a brunch of lust.
With a withering glance, Helga noticed immediately that Maria's brown-oversized nipples were distended and rigid, and the woman's triangular shaped pussy was already moist. What kind of pervert did they take her for? Should she fight or would it be better to save herself the trouble and give in immediately? Maria arranged herself so that she was upside down next to Helga, and Manuel pushed the young blonde coed down on her side with the kick of his boot, so that Helga was looking directly at Maria's wetly gaping pussy lips.
"Perhaps thees weell help the Se�orita's memory come back?"
Her head whirling with doubt and confusion, Helga felt Maria pushing her unresisting thighs apart, and her body jerked as the lesbian tongue speared lewdly into the sensitive inner flesh of her cunt. They had been all through this once before, and Helga knew precisely where it was going to take them. Despite the fact that it was a wicked, homosexual act-something that would make her mother weep for shame and make her father topple over in a heart attack-she knew control would flit away from her like a bird in the hand. These people-perhaps out of practice-had discovered a deeply buried masochistic streak in her, something hidden far beneath the surface of her consciousness which desperately needed to be tortured and hurt. And they were going to exploit that perversion to the fullest, changing her from a high-spirited young adventurer into a sordid sex slave who could turn on for men or women indiscriminately.
As Maria's hungry tongue tantalized her throbbing vaginal flesh, Helga looked at the moistly dilated pussy only a few inches from her face. The scent from Maria's body was warm and smelled of cheap perfume, and the lips of her cunt were swollen and visibly trembling with twisted sexual need. Watching the sensuous outlines of that darkly inviting pussy slit and knowing that Manuel would make her go through with it whether she begged or screamed, the girl bent slightly forward and ran her lips over the tiny pink button of Maria's clitoris and tasted the honeyed sweetness of the older woman's cunt.
"Aaaaahhhh!" The universal cry of pleasure hit Helga's ears as Maria paused long enough to express her gratitude for this obscene caress.
"Maria has been good to you, Se�orita. You make her cum or I screw you een the ass!"
It was clear enough! Yesterday he had threatened to assault her virginal anus and the tone of his voice made it clear it was no idle threat. Certainly he was capable of it... so she hesitated no longer. If avoiding an invasion of her rectum meant performing oral sex with another woman... then suck she would! But that didn't mean she had to enjoy it.
Besides, the other woman's wetly glistening cunt was beginning to fascinate her. Biology classes at the University of North Dakota was the closest she'd come to a live human vagina, other than her own, and this was one lab session of very relevant information. Helga pushed her fingers exploringly into the rich dark pubic hair, caressing Maria's oversized clitoris. It felt warm and soft and she could hear the Mexican woman sigh with happiness every time she touched it. Getting her courage up, she pushed Maria's satiny thighs apart and pushed her blonde head in between her outstretched legs, running her tongue lewdly over the quivering pinkness of the throbbing vaginal lips. Then she clamped her lips firmly around the sexually-sensitive tip of her clitoris and began to suck, tasting the succulent flesh of another woman's cunt for the first time.
It was not as hard as she would have imagined, for Maria was furiously tongue-lashing her own widely dilated pussy, and the orgiastic scent emanating from the lesbian's body seemed to drive her higher and higher into a red mist of wild carnal excitement. She knew in some sane portion of her mind that they were getting through to her once again, that this surrender would make it that much harder for her to resist them in the future... but at this point the logic involved seemed to have changed. If they ordered her to eat a woman's cunt, she would eat cunt! Anything but anal sodomy!
She threw herself into the perversion, like a diver plunging into unknown waters, almost reveling in the wickedness and obscenity of what she was doing. Inching forward, she slid her long flickering tongue deeply into Maria's naked vagina, feeling the delicately trembling walls of the brunette's cuntal passage quivering with unnatural excitement. The taste was pungent but not unpleasant, and she began to suck and lick with all the power she could summon up, driving her tongue repeatedly into the lesbian's clasping cuntal opening and simultaneously brushing her lower lip over the pulsating organ of her clitoris.
From Manuel's point of view, both women had gone loco, and the man felt his penis beginning to resent confinement behind his uniform zipper. The Mexican policeman considered himself fortunate to have a warden such as Maria working for him- someone to do the bulwark of getting his prisoners helplessly and hopelessly aroused while he sat back and excited himself by watching. When the moment seemed right, he would move in with his ten-inch erection and finish the job. Helga would be ready any minute now, and Manuel marveled at the hot streak that fairly sizzled under the skin of these hot-blooded Gringas who said one thing and did quite another. And, of course, it took only a nod in Maria's direction to get her going; but the two of them were sucking and licking at each other as if they had been born Siamese twins in that position.
Maria was starting to quiver violently, and Manuel knew from experience that she was about to explode into one of her teeth chattering climaxes. Maria could cum faster and harder than any man he had ever seen, and sometimes Manuel found himself envying her for that reason. Sometimes he wondered who was the better policeperson, he or Maria. Everything turned her on from men to women to boys to girls, and of course there had been- that memorable experience with that German shepherd. The woman was a walking orgasm looking for a place to cum, and Manuel smiled with pleasure as he watched his companion's long slender body suddenly go rigid as the spasm swept over her.
"Mio Dios... mio Dios... mio Dios..." she murmured in her moment of ecstasy, reverting unconsciously to her native tongue. Manuel felt his iron-hard cock throbbing with avid desire, and he suddenly decided to give one last crack at getting a testimony from Helga. Her smooth, tempting buttocks waggled right in front of him, and he felt an overwhelming lecherous desire overtake him. Dammit, he would go ahead and take her right there in the rectum! Why should he hold back? She was his prisoner to do with as he pleased, and there was nothing in Mexican law that stated a policeman could not resort to sodomy... if it would solve the case.
The two women were still tongue-fucking each other like a pair of maniacs, but Manuel levered himself up next to Helga and ripped down his zipper to free his restlessly pulsing penis. The scarlet tip of his glans had bloated to an awesome size and he rammed it quickly between Helga's soft, warm buttocks, wanting to catch her off guard before she had a chance to offer any serious resistance. It was going to be tough enough fighting his way into that tight little asshole without having to arm wrestle with her at the same time. Manuel knew that this blue-eyed blonde feared anal impalement worse than death... and she would struggle.
Helga was trembling on the brink of a lesbian orgasm when she felt Manuel's warmly pulsating hardness slide lecherously between her ass-cheeks. The potential orgasm passed immediately as fear stuck its icy hand into her body. He was going to do it anyway! He had instructed her to make Maria cum, and she had accomplished that because the woman was still squirming and moaning her way through a soul-shattering orgasm. And now the bastard was going to double-cross her! God, she had to fight him!
Helga whirled on the bed, flailing out with her elbows and striking Manuel as hard as her tiny clenched fist could in the side of his neck. Foolish it was for her to believe she could fight him off, but her only hope was to struggle and make such a fuss he'd think it more trouble than it was worth. Nobody was going to fuck her virginal anus without a fight.
"No!!!" she screamed hysterically, raking her long fingernails through the hairy patch of his chest, leaving red streaks of oozing blood in its wake.
"Maria! Get her!" Manuel ordered, thrown temporarily off-balance by the sudden fury of Helga's attack and then a sudden dizziness. Still confused by this violent interruption of the sweetest orgasm she could ever recall, Maria slid off the bed onto the floor. Manuel rose unsteadily to his feet, confronting the outraged girl and tried to throw his heavy body on top of her, but she reacted with the brute Viking instinct of a cornered warrior, lashing out with one foot against the desire-tautened sac of his hairy balls.
"Ahhhhh!" he screamed in pain as the ball of her boot slammed into his unprotected genitals, doubling him over in a blasphemous groan of agony Manuel had been quite unprepared for this outburst of violence, but he had not climbed his way to the top of the law enforcement profession by being soft and surrendering to initial threats. With a grunt of rage, he intercepted Helga as she sprinted for the door, slamming her ruthlessly to the floor with one powerful sweep of his arms.
"Motherfucker!" he said distinctly as the girl writhed on the floor, by this point so far out of her mind that she would fight to the death. "Maria, get the handcuffs... we weell show thees Americano how we treat leettle beetches!" Then to Helga: "Too bad, my sweet, but you leave us no choice. Tomorrow you weel go to veeseet the General and he weell show you a lesson you weell never forget!"
CHAPTER FIVE
"Wh-What? Me... go to the General? But... I-I've been cooperating and... and oh, God!"
Polly's emerald eyes squeezed scalding tears down her satin cheeks as she took one last look around the jail cell as would a drowning man before the last mouthful of water.
Helga said nothing; holding in her agony with stoic pride which unmasked was pure unadulterated fear. A warden handcuffed them together and the girls walked outside the dingy walls to sit on a cement bench and wait for the bus under a sun shining hot and high in a clear blue sky.
Nobody briefed them on exactly where they were headed, but Helga had an idea it wasn't for the border
A rickety, dusty bus with bad brakes screeched to a halt and the warden ushered the prisoners on board, passing by a beady eyed little Mexican driver with a leathery tan and a face wrinkled as a week old apple peel. He seemed to grunt as the two slender, bosomy American girls brushed past him and slid into a seat somewhere near the middle.
By San Pedro's balls, thought the Mexican bus driver blasphemously as he peered over his shoulder. These Gringa girls get better looking every year. These policemen must take in only the prettiest. Ohh, and these two... so tall and fair and their breasts... ah, they have such breasts as a poor mortal like me can only expect to see in paradise.
As his antiquated ramshackle bus thundered down the dusty road, heading toward Monterrey, the driver wiped the mirror clean of smudge and adjusted it to examine the reflection of his Yankee riders sitting dully unobservant behind him.
Something alerted Helga to the unnerving fact that she was being inspected and she squirmed nervously on the hard uncomfortable seat. Had she known how that driver revered her blonde hair, bleached white by his native sunshine, she would have forgiven his obtrusive stare and considered it a compliment that his beady eyes bored into the melonous mounds of her heavy breasts set high, standing out proudly beneath the light cotton dress she wore.
Had the driver been able to drag his eyes away from Helga's sensational body, he would have discovered that she possessed a face to match her physique. Her sparkly eyed beauty was accentuated by the school girl pony tail she wore.
Perhaps that driver might have been a bit ashamed, though, had he known the sadness and emotional strain hidden behind that veneer of polished beauty... ashamed that a girl was being tortured at the hands of his fellow countrymen. Every few minutes the battered old bus would hit a deep crater in the road, leap into the air like an overloaded bomber struggling for a take-off and then settle back onto the asphalt while a tortured metallic scream issued from its rusted springs.
And the one beside her! Oh, dear God, those green eyes! Ignoring the possibility that his decrepit vehicle might sail off a cliff or pile into a tree, he studied the reflection of her pale, wan faced beauty. And those teets! "By San Tommasso... look at those teets!" the driver muttered under his breath, running a Volkswagen off the road and into the ditch while he adjusted the mirror for a better view. Dear Jesus, why doesn't sometheeng like that come my way! Oh, to fuck a Gringa like that!
"Aaaaahhh!!!" came a general scream of panic from the passengers as the smooth worn tires of the bus struck gravel, trembling on the cliff of a deep arroyo.
Damn Yankees get too nervous, swore the driver under his breath as with irritation he pulled his vehicle back to the center of the road. Helga, catching a glimpse of his lewd eyes in the rear view mirror, yanked her dress down sharply over her thighs. As if her body hadn't caused enough troubles without getting them all killed just because a foolish driver couldn't keep his eyes off her chest and on the road.
Her thoughts of the betraying man who'd befriended her in Mazatlan were distracted as the bus plunged headlong into another pothole in the road and rose up in the air like an elephant attempting to trample a lion. Two nuns in the front row seized their rosary beads with one hand and their seats with the other, suffering silently for the sins of mankind. Seated behind the driver sat a drunken bum who inevitably seemed to try to take a sip just as the rusty old vehicle was about to lunge into the air. Whiskey dribbled from his stubbled chin, but still, he managed to drink enough to blot out how fearfully close to his maker he'd come with the last jilt of the bus.
Helga tried to look out the window and concentrate on the view instead of her misery, but her mind was elsewhere. Sadly, she remembered how jubilant she felt at meeting Douglas Kinsey on the beach... how he gave her a place to stay, took her out to dinner, arranged for friends to pick her up in the San Antonio bus depot and drive her to the airport. He had turned her life upside down the same way this damned bus was turning her stomach upside down.
Polly broke the silence with a kittenish whimper. "Wh-what's gonna become of us? I wanna go home..."
Helga hid her own chagrin behind a feigned smile. "Don't worry... we'll get out of this... wait and see."
* * * * *
The sky had turned pink, fading into a hazy grey when the bus pulled into the Monterrey bus depot and squawking chickens, prayerful nuns and drunks debarked. Tired, hungry and abysmally depressed, Polly and Helga were ushered to a taxi that sped off for the mountains skirting the city. The greenery passed in a blurred flicker as the car wound its snaky path up the scrub-bushed side. What hell lay ahead of them, they were too tired to ask.
It must have been around noon, on the last leg of their journey, when the taxi made the last hairpin curve and drove down a driveway flanked with azaleas and magnolias and came to a jerking halt at the wrought iron gate where an armed sentinel stood guard.
The Spanish chatter awakened Helga who lifted her weary head from her cell mate's shoulder and nudged Polly awake. "Look... it's not home, but it's sure not Nuevo Laredo!"
No cockroaches here! A servant, well dressed in a crisply starched white uniform opened the gate and waved the taxi on down the brick drive toward a mansion set in a wooded area, its white columned pillars standing out in a clump of lush greenery where splashy colored birds of exotic species snapped at insects from high boughed perches.
"This is the General's house?" Polly whispered, her green eyes taking in the richer hue of this oasis of magnificence in the midst of Mexican squalor. "I thought it was going to be another prison?" A baffled look crossed her Cupie doll face. "Why did they send us here I thought this was the ultimate prison...?"
"Hmmm... I don't know..." lied Helga, remembering clearly Manuel's threats about what happened to uncooperative female prisoners. "We'll find out soon enough..."
A fresh faced Mexican girl-not more than fourteen-opened the cab door and led the handcuffed girls into a stucco building around the back of the mansion that served as a dormitory for the 'visitors.' The girls shuffled along through the entrance way, an Alice in Wonderland look on their faces as they passed the solarium, the indoor swimming pool tiled in mosaics and the exercise room that reminded Helga of a health spa. Obviously, The General treated his prisoners well.
A guard undid the lock on their handcuffs while a masseuse hastened to massage their aching wrists with oil to heal their chapped skin. First to the sunken tubbed bathroom for a languid soak, then to the dining room for lunch... and nobody swore at them, nobody molested them, and nobody hinted at what all this pampering would lead to. After lunch, a uniformed guard led them to their shared bedroom at the end of the hall and they collapsed into the linen-dressed beds-with no blood stains and no cockroaches-and slept the sleep of the damned.
* * * * *
The sun had streaked orange ribbons, casting dark shadows over the valleys below when a timid knock on the door awoke Helga with a start. In that hazy, indefinable moment of confusion, she was back at the University dormitory. Dorothy was at the door, waking her up for a class.
"Senoritas... the day is nearly to an end. It is time for you to dress. The maid weell bring you coffee soon."
"Hmmmm?" Polly rustled lazily in her sleep, then opened one emerald eye to see her roommate sitting up in bed yawning, wearing the hospital-white robe supplied by The General.
"Come on, Polly. Time to get up and meet your maker. Something weird is going on around here... and I have the feeling we're about to find out."
"I don't wanna get up yet," complained the younger girl, throwing back her covers. "God, what a mess I got myself into... just for one crumby bag of dope. I could have scored in LA with no hassle."
The door opened slowly and a maid sauntered in, soft as a cat, holding a tray with a silver pot of coffee, two cups, a sugar bowl and cream pitcher, sided by a rosebud in a crystal vase. "For the Se�oritas..." she said in perfect English. She poured their coffee and left.
Two cups each and a second knock sounded at the door. "Se�oritas... are you ready for your bath and shampoo? The hair-dresser is waiting."
Polly and Helga exchanged baffled looks. Hairdresser...? "I've never gone to a hairdresser in my life," put in Helga, running her slender fingers through her waist-length hair.
"Si, Se�oritas... he weell be in to see you in feefteen minutes." The maid disappeared behind the closed door.
The girls were sipping at their third cup when a knock rattled the door. "Senoritas... we must have you fitted for your evening gowns. May I come in and take your measurements?"
Evening gowns... what kind of prisoners are we?
"Si..." The maid shuffled in without a welcome and bid the girls to stand up, allowing her to slip the tape measure around their vital spots. "Hmmm... The General weell be pleased with the Senoritas. The Virgin Mary has blessed you well," chuckled the kind faced woman, pulling the tape to a tight 37 inches around Helga's breasts. The seamstress turned on her heel and departed.
What was this...? Some wacky version of Queen for a Day? Something disgustingly deceptive was going on behind the scenes in this jeweled palace and it didn't smell of roses.
For the first time in nearly twenty-four hours, the girls were separated. Polly whimpered pathetically and Helga smelled trouble as the guard directed them to separate rooms.
The hairdresser and seamstress fussed over Helga with the ceremonious meticulosness of a princess being readied for her wedding... or was it a virgin for the sacrifice? They wound her shimmering locks into long-finger curls, pulled back high on her head and crowned her with fresh azaleas. The make-up was a bit garish for Helga's tastes but the effect of the smoky grey eye shadow and false eyelashes fluttering over her rosy high cheek bones was nothing short of mystical. They glossed her lips in a shimmering red hue that made them pout out like a Monroe cheesecake shot. They touched and re-touched her make up until not a pore could be seen. Helga watched with curious delight until they tugged the skimpy gold lame dress over her shoulders and yanked up the zipper, almost taking a bit of her flesh with it.
"Senorita, ees beeeutiful!" the seamstress clapped her hands in proud jubilation. "Se�orita... you must look to see!"
If it felt tight, it looked even tighter. Helga let out a horrified gasp at the reflection staring back at her in the triptych mirror, turning for a profile that would have made her mother cry and her father throw all incestuous taboos to the wind.
The dress clung to her mounded flesh with the tenacity of wet jersey; its glittering gold lame caught the light and spangled off the protruding mounds of her heavy breasts, sparkling diamond-like at the chips of her nipples. It nipped in her waist to twenty inches and stretched gently over the smooth mounds of her hips and, sleekly as a caressing hand down over her thighs. Helga's stomach protruded just a flattering bit, and if it hadn't been for the slit in front of the skirt, that stabbed right up to the elastic band of her bikini panties, she wouldn't have been able to take a step. For a modest farmer's daughter accustomed to hiding her lush body under levis and loose shirts, it was a sinful sight.
"This is... awful! I can't let anybody see me in this!" she wailed, much to the seamstress' distress. I look... worse than naked! Panic set in and she darted for the door, her spike heeled gold shoes tapping hammer-like on the tile floor. The guards caught her and swooping in on her, linked their arms with hers and persuasively ushered her out the door into the warm, insect buzzing night.
"Get your hands off of me... you brutes!" she flared, biting her lip and trying to shake loose from their iron grips. "You can't do this to me!"
"Don't be a fool," hissed the guard on her right. "This is no high school dance... this is The General's annual party. I wouldn't make a fuss if I were you."
Helga's jaw fell slack. "You're... an American! What are you doing here?" She scuffed her right toe, struggling to keep up with their pace.
"Working off a sentence... like you."
"What . . . what do you mean?" she asked breathlessly. "What's this all about?"
Time allowed for no explanation. They rounded the manicured grounds nearing the front of the pillared mansion, coming upon a setting that reminded Helga of a scene from The Great Gatsby. A line-up of shiny black limousines driven by valets, made small circles in the cul-de-sac and formally attired military men bogged down by heavy medals dangling on scarlet ribbons emerged one by one from the cars and sauntered with square-shouldered military posture up the polished marble steps of the mansion.
The guards ushered the panic stricken prisoner to the steps and let go. Helga's fluttery eyelashes grazed over her rouged cheek bones as her head craned in every direction, wondering which way to run. First a lesbian rapes me... now they dress me up like a whore. What do they want of me?
Somebody knew the answer but wasn't telling... a medal-speckled military officer walked brazenly up to her, took a low bow, and slipped his arm graciously through hers.
"Greetings, Se�orita. Are you from Nuevo Laredo or Santa Marta? We have been receiving our most beautiful women from those two prisons," he beamed. "Tell me, my dear, was it marijuana or cocaine?"
Helga's skinny heel caught in the hem of her dress and she nearly stumbled on the step, but he caught her. "What... are you talking about?" she stammered, her legs aching from the four inch heels and her head pounding with fear. "I... I came from Nuevo Laredo..." How does he know so much about me?
At the entrance to the foyer, lit with candles and crystal chandeliers, her smoky lidded blue eyes took in the crowd of mingling military men and young American women who, like Helga, were dressed in shimmering evening gowns and looked half distressed and fully confused. Like Helga, too, all were exceedingly beautiful women.
"Let me introduce myself. I am Major Jose Emanuel," the impeccably manicured forty-some year old said in perfect English. He turned his head in an arrogant profile and despite the fear rattling through her veins, Helga's heart beat faster at the swarthy symmetry of his handsomely distinguished Spanish features: the receding hairline above an aquiline nose, straight and dignified, the dark sensuous eyes and proud angle of the chin. He seemed steeped in military dignity. "And the Se�orita?"
"I'm Helga... Helga Anderson," she answered in a lopsided smile, captivated by his Spanish charm. Black haired men had always been her downfall.
"Greetings to you, my dear. You are a most beautiful woman. You are Scandinavian, maybe? The General shall be most pleased to meet you, I am sure." Two blazing black eyes scraped over the lush mounds of her magnificent body, stopping to rest at the chips of her hardened nipples hugged tight by her one-strapped gown. "May I offer the Se�orita a drink?"
The dining room, a menagerie of chandeliers casting crystal sparkles off of gold trimmed mirrors, smelled heavily of ripe, fertile flowers that hung from woven baskets everywhere. The full length of the burgundy carpeted room was monopolized by the buffet table where polished silver chafing dishes smelled richly of fresh herbs, exotic seafoods and an array of delights such as Helga's potato eating ancestry had never tasted:
avocados, mangos, papayas. A servant lifted the silver lid of a chafing dish and, heaping a plate of lobster bits, handed it to Helga who delved into the appetizers with a harvester-appetite.
Jose brought her a glass of sangria from the carved-ice punch bowl floating with flowers and she drank thirstily, momentarily forgetting about her captive plight.
"I suppose you are wondering what you are doing here?" Jose said, studying her over the crystal rim of his sangria glass. His eyes bored with ripe salacity into the nipples of her one-strapped evening gown and flickers of yesterday's debauchery flitted through her mind like birds on wing-all heading South, down between her slim thighs.
"I must admit, I am confused. You Mexicans have a knack for deception. One day I'm sleeping with cockroaches and the next I'm dining on lobster. I don't get it," she put in bluntly, licking off the butter-dripping toothpick with her glossy pooched out lips.
"You will be sleeping with a lot more than cockroaches before you ever go home to your America, again," he said in an icy witticism.
The wheat fields of North Dakota and momma's home-baked cookies seemed to be memories from a past lifetime... totally out of sequence was this horror of imprisonment.
Abruptly, Jose left, leaving his captive standing there in a whirlpool of confusion and fear. The allowable had not yet been sifted from the forbidden, and her knees knocked in fear of making a faux pas that would send her back behind bars.
Someone was tapping her on the shoulder, warm soft fingers touching her naked flesh. It was Polly, stuffing her mouth with saut�ed crab meet.
"Isn't this fantastic?" she gushed. "The food! My God!" She licked the butter from her fingers and held up a chunk of coral crab meat. "Want some...? And your date... he's dreamy!"
"Polly... he's not my date, for Godsakes... this isn't a high school prom... oh...! OH...! OH MY GOD!"
Two hands snaked out from nowhere and grabbed Polly from behind, dragging her through a side door in a flurry of kicking feet and rumpled curls. Helga's heart stabbed in her bosomy chest and her hand flew to her rouged mouth.
That was the last time Helga would ever see her bubbly friend... with that same sweet innocent smile on her baby-dimpled face.
Jose, wary of his neglected duties, was there in a flash, castigating her with a frown. Communication between prisoners was strictly disavowed.
"It's time, my dear, for us to retire to the entertainment room. You may take your drink with you," he said smoothly.
Helga followed docilely.
* * * * *
In the ensuing foray, Polly fought like a frightened cat, scratching and clawing at the brown arms that held her tight to the chair. She missed the guard's shin by a quarter inch and her left shoe flew through the room, crashing finally into the book case where it sent a ceramic statue crashing to the carpet in a thousand pieces.
"You can't treat me like this! I... I haven't done anything!" she spat through pearly teeth. The spaghetti straps of her blue chiffon gown slipped over her creamy shoulders and crept down over the firm smooth flesh of her naked breasts until the berry tip of one puffy nipple peeked out over a wall of blue.
"No! NO! GET THAT AWAY FROM ME!" Polly's apple green eyes stared into the cool grey ones of the hypnotist, challenging his power, spitting at the gold pendant dangling in front of her panic-twisted face.
Frantically, she shook her head. "No...! No... you can't do... this to me!" she screamed, until her fear-widened orbs locked on the yellow gold object moving mesmerically before her dimpled face, like the smoothly moving hands of a well-made clock. "No...!" Her eyes moved to the right. "No...? Then to the left, until her protests quelled to a whisper.
"When I snap my fingers you will go into a trance. You will feel no pain... but you will respond as your body wishes, feeling only joy. When I snap my fingers and count from one to ten, you will awaken from this trance..."
Polly stared fixedly ahead, now, unseeing as the ceramic statue that lay on the General's carpet in a thousand shattered pieces.
CHAPTER SIX
General Cuervos sat contently in his plush office sipping imported scotch and watching the Annual Military Ball on the triple-screened video machine-unseen eyes that roved over the crowd of ripe, young American women dressed in sheer gowns that hugged every nipple and pubic hair like a coat of gossamer paint. The General loved women of all descriptions, but young and innocent American ones topped the list. What better place to find luckless white female victims to satisfy his lust than in Mexican prisons? Maybe that was why his half-hearted crackdown on the dope smuggling-was done nowhere, except at the exit borders where any pretty young white girl was held suspect.
The General's black eyes raked over the crowd of garishly dressed Gringas until his eyes fell on a gold lam� gown spangling out above the pastel chiffons. Twisting the knobs with pudgy fingers, he zeroed in on Helga's hardened nipples, licked his thick lips, and trailed the lens down over her rounded tummy to rest at the vee of her luscious loins.
"General, you see that beautiful Scandinavian-American woman in the gold dress? She ees one of my preesoners from Nuevo Laredo! Would the General like a private meeting with her?" He might have been peddling cooking wares on a Mazatlan street corner. "Beautiful blonde hair... and oh, those cream-white breasts!" he coaxed, knowing the General's appreciation for a pretty piece of white flesh that came wrapped in a bright, shiny package.
General Cuervos rubbed his half erect penis through the cotton trap of his uniform pants and watched Helga's pooched-out red lips, slick the butter from the appetizer stick as if it were a cock sticky with cum. "I will save the blonde Se�orita for the end. Now find me a little lovely to get me in the mood, Lieutenant."
Manuel slapped one boot against the other, saluted and turned on his heel, heading out into the foyer where he eyed a shivering little blonde cowering in a corner like a frightened rabbit. Someday I weell be the General and command a woman to suck my cock... beautiful women such as these instead of dogs like Maria.
He grabbed the blonde girl by the arm. "Come weeth me, Se�orita. I weell take the tears from your pretty eyes," he cajoled traitorously. She fought and spat and kicked at his shins with her spike heels, but Manuel's cunning won in the end. "Come... I weell take you to a quiet room... away from the crowd..." Sniffling, the young teenager wiped the mascara smudges away and followed docilely.
* * * * *
After Manuel had left, General Cuervos unzipped his fly and brought his thickening cock out into the opening. Breathing deeply with anticipation, he skinned the thick wealth of foreskin back and forth lewdly, enjoying the silken feel of its blood-gushed length while with one eye maintaining vigil on the colored video, he watched the blonde converse with a dimple-cheeked girl who caught her breath, wide-eyed, as one of his guards grabbed her from behind. Her kicking spike heels disappeared from the screen as Lieutenant Sanchez dragged Polly away into a separate room. Yes... good choice for tonight's show, silently applauded the General.
The tender desire-inflamed slit in the tip opened slightly with his squeezing, and a thin trickle of pre-coital fluid began to ooze from it.
"General," Lieutenant Manuel was back in the room and squeezing the young girl's arm so tight his knuckles turned white. "General... thees is good choice, no?"
The General blinked with surprise. "Good job, Manuel... you shall be well rewarded for your good taste." She couldn't have been more than sixteen... and scared to death, which made his victory all the sweeter.
"Your name, Se�orita?"
"Julie..."
"Julie... come up here and let me get an eye full of you," the General ordered excitedly.
"No... no, I won't!" she suddenly shrieked. "Please, let me out of here... let me go home!" The frightened young prisoner shook visibly as Manuel nudged her across the room toward the General. The terrified young girl blinked and recoiled from the obscene leer she saw on his face.
"Come up closer, little one," the General said in a gloating tone, suddenly reaching out and grabbing the teenager by the wrist and pulling her over to his side of the desk. "How does the Se�orita like the General's penis?"
The fear stricken young blonde could only blink her astonishment at the size of the military man's cock approaching her from around the desk. She had never seen one up close like this before... and certainly never one so long, hard and jutting as the one he held in his churning hand.
"It's s-so big!" she gasped in astonishment.
Still holding his pulsing cock, the General rose to his feet, simultaneously yanking the girl downward until her pretty face was mere inches from his penis. "Touch it, my lovely one. Feel my prick!"
The sniffling girl lost her balance and slipped to her knees, looking up at him desperately. "If-if I d-do... will you let me go home to Iowa?"
The General could afford to be generous. "Yes, Julie, you can then go back to Iowa."
Happily, then, she encircled its enormous thickness with her tiny hand, her fingers not quite meeting around it. Hopefully, she peeled the thickened covering of loose skin back down over its flushed red head, peeling it like a banana, leaving it sleek and naked. Anything to get back to Iowa... "D-Do you want me to suck it?"
"Lick it first, little one," he chuckled lewdly, a dribble of spittle making a wet spot on his scarlet ribbon across his burly chest. "All over, like it's an ice cream treat."
Hesitating a moment to mentally prepare herself, the captive prisoner leaned forward, balancing herself on her knees, a pool of pink chiffon around her, she held his obscenely seeping cock by its stalky base and placed a lewd wet kiss on its bulbous tip with her pursed red lips. The taste of his cock was slightly bitter and strong-sort of like prison coffee-but at least he was fairly clean. The rubbery blood-filled head glided smoothly over her lips as she opened her mouth to lap at it with her tiny pink tongue. She was no stranger to cocksucking... Lieutenant Salvo down in Santa Marta had already forced her into it several times, now.
"You'd better stop now, Julie..."
Almost reluctantly, the kneeling young blonde girl leaned back on her haunches, looking angelic and innocent in her pink chiffon dress, spangled with rhinestones.
The General dropped back into his leather recliner. "Take your dress off. I want to see if your little white gringa breasts are as lovely as your mouth." Then, as she quickly stripped off her spaghetti straps, pulling the dress down over her milky white shoulders to let her strawberry nipples peek out, he said, "Beautiful. Now get over here and finish me off."
The half naked girl inched forward on her knees, her small, but smoothly formed breasts jiggling with her forward movements. God, his cock was big!
"Take it in your mouth, Julie, like a good little girl and then maybe you can go back to Iowa." The General's penis was now fully aroused and throbbing massively, reaching all the way back into the prisoner's slender sucking throat, tickling her, nearly causing her to gag. His huge hands gripped her cruelly by the hair, forcing her pale face up and down on his brown pumping flesh like an oil rig.
"You suck very well, Julie. Smooth as a baby's ass!" he grated out lustfully, keeping one eye on the video machine where the gold lam� beauty was drinking her share of Sangria.
Julie's dazed eyes focused on the rod of lust-heavy dark male flesh emerging from the tangle of wiry black pubic hair at its base, and disappearing from her line of vision as it stretched all the way past her parted lips and up into her open mouth. Now, her humiliation and degradation complete, she wallowed in masochistic delight.
"Suck baby, suck! Suck my cock!" The General commanded from high above her bobbing head.
Obediently, the sleek, blonde haired white girl began to do as she was told, her lips nibbling baby-like on the powerful Mexican man's cock, while she tried to accustom herself to the lewd invasion of her mouth. In an effort to please him, and perhaps to end her two weeks of torment, she began tossing her saliva-wet tongue around and around the hotly pulsing glans.
"Tight as a suction cup, baby. You're great!" The General grunted appreciatively, the medals on his chest clanging together with the movement of his grinding loins.
Slowly at first, he thrust his cock in and out of her wetly nursing mouth, but never quite withdrawing all the way, so the tip of his bulging instrument of lust always remained buried within the confines of her warm, wet oral cavern.
Julie's mouth was gradually filling with saliva made slightly sticky from the steady flow of semen seeping prematurely from the tip of her captor's lust-purpled penis. As she continued to slave over his loins, she realized that her vacation in Mexico was almost to an end... and the thought of returning to Iowa seemed an almost scary one. Maybe now, after all she'd been through, she didn't want to go home after all...? Would her family still want her after all she had done and been forced to do? Would the farm boys in Iowa appreciate her mouth and tongue the way this burly Mexican General was?
By now, she was reduced to giving her Mexican captors all the pleasure and getting very little back herself. Oddly, the subservient posture they had forced her into was warming up her libido and just now, she wished he would do something about the flickers of need sparking over her naked breasts and rushing down to her furry little blonde vee, under the gossamer yards of pink chiffon.
But the General was a selfish man. He ran his long dark fingers into the young girl's blonde hair, sticky with hairspray, and began to force her face up and down more violently on his hotly thrusting brown cock, precisely as if her delicate pink mouth were just another cunt into which he could spew his sperm. His eyes traveled from the exquisite Nordic features of her small pixie face, noting with lewd delight the rapturous sparkle in her Gringa blue eyes.
Julie's mouth was overflowing with a mixture of her own saliva and her captor's flowing sexual juices. Despite the long deep gulps she swallowed down to keep from gagging, rivulets of lewd stringy penile moisture dripped from the corners of her soft mouth to run down the sides of his pulsing cock shaft in a steady syrupy stream. Her lips nearly burst at the corners from stretching around their burden, yet, despite her discomfort, she was deeply thrilled at the level of corruption this man was forcing her to submit to her to against her will. And she would be going home soon... if she still could... or even wanted to, at this point.
The General immediately sensed the change of attitude in this slavishly sucking girl, and knew he could not hold out much longer against the mind-boggling pressure. Bizarre, obscene fantasies danced in his head as he felt the tension in his balls build to an intolerable level. Snarling, he tightened his grip on the girl's blonde locks, forcing her down harder on his crazily jerking penis. Gringas made very good cocksuckers, docile, and easily trained, but they had an annoying habit of jerking their heads away at the last minute.... detesting the taste of their Mexican captor's ball-seed. So to assure that wouldn't happen, the General held her head tight by her blonde hair.
A sudden ringing and pounding rattled in The General's head as the flow of his cum gurgled from deep within his semen-bloated balls and made its gushing journey through the length of his jerking cock. The muscles of his abdomen went tight, contracting to send the heated load of his sperm roiling upwards through its narrow channel around and out of the tip of his cock in a powerful spray... deep into Julie's gaping mouth, and far back into her throat!
"Ummmmmmmm..." Julie shuddered.
His last violent thrust went deep, all the way to her tonsils and he held it there while he squirted his orgasm over the roof of her still-sucking mouth, right on her pink tongue, bloating out her cheeks. His wriggling little sperm came out in a hot stream of thick viscous liquid that never seemed to end.
"Suck it, baby, suck it!!!" The General commanded. He rarely became excited except for moments like these when his bulbous cheeks reddened from the strain on his heart.
"You just won yourself a trip across the border!" The thick cream-like cum spewed into her gulping, swallowing mouth, from his wildly ejaculating penis, filling her mouth with what seemed to be gallons of his salty, lusty semen as she gurgled and gasped frantically, trying to swallow down the lewd mouthful.
"Yessssss! Eat it all!"
Julie choked and sputtered until she had cleared her throat again, but The General made no attempt to pull his slowly deflating penis from her sucking mouth. Instinctively, the blonde farm girl knew what her captor wanted and she docilely kissed and licked him completely clean, her firm young breasts bouncing like so much Jello with the submissive, bobbing movements of her head. Her eyes sparkled with a strange glow as she blinked at him and even smiled angelically.
The General was deep in thought... patting the girl's bowed blonde head as if she was a favored pet, one eye still glued to the video screen from which Helga had disappeared. That was fantastic, but what I'm going to do to that tall blonde will be revolutionary...
Finished with her salacious, humiliating task, the blonde girl wiped her sperm-filled mouth clean with the back of her hand and sadly smiled up at her captor who zipped up his pants, tucking away his deflated penis, and plucked a medal from his chest. Rarely did the General fall into this vulnerable, generous mood... but when he did, it cleared his conscience as communion does for Christian believers.
"Here... take this back to the States to remember me by," he chuckled, generously. "Whenever you look at it, you will remember your time here in Mexico, and the things you have learned. You may leave tomorrow, after the guards are finished with you."
The thoroughly rumpled and humiliated American girl hugged the cool medal to her pale, naked breasts, then kissed it reverently. "Oh, thank you, Mr. General..." she gushed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Major Jose Emanuel slipped his arm through Helga's and escorted her through the dining room and down a hallway to a darkened room at the end. Half of the seats were already filled and the Major hastened to pick one perfectly situated center-front of the stage that dominated the room.
"W-What's going to happen?" the gold-spangled prisoner shuddered. "I don't want to stay here!"
"But you will and you must," ordered the Major, losing patience. "And don't be silly!"
Her wide-rounded, gold mounded hips and rear wriggled undulantly as Helga submissively followed the Major into the darkened chamber and sat down next to him on a low chaise. She heard a seam rip when she bent her knees to sit down, and the Major offered her an unconcealed smirk. The heady smell of his Sangria sweet breath on her naked neck caused far more fearful tremors in her young body than a silly ripped-loose seam! Oh, God, that look on his face... I can tell he's dying to get his hands on me!
Everything in the room was garishly ornate, from the heavy burgundy and gold velvet covering the walls to the mirrors on the ceiling. Nothing in North Dakota could match it!
Helga glanced around her to see how the other prisoners were coping with these sluttish clothes and military body guards. She gulped at the sight of a girl groaning in despair behind her, deep in the arms of her lewd, breast-groping Mexican captor while a girl to the right of her slumped down miserably in her seat, her blue eyes half closed, biting a full lower lip, while her guard rummaged boldly and crudely under her chiffon skirt with his hands.
Silent as cats, the servants came in and placed a pitcher of Sangria on each table, darting out again as the lights turned low and the spot-light shone in a single beam onto the stage.
Helga's hand grasped her glass as if trying to choke it, and a lump in her throat rose when the curtains parted onto a beautiful Mexican girl with raven hair swishing to her nipped in waist. From the tips of her brown peso-sized nipples, to her jeweled belly button, she was one mass of goosebumped satin flesh, covered only by a mask and a black velvet cape. Her long tapered legs peeked out from the fishnet stockings held up by a black lace garter belt suspended around her hips.
But it was the bullwhip in her hands that caused Helga to catch her breath. The girl flicked it, and all the female prisoners, hearing that familiar crack, sat up one inch taller.
The masked girl, sneered at her audience and slowly licked her lips with the tip of her velvety pink tongue; undulantly, she rolled her hips as if on ball bearings until the petals of her pink pussy were glistening with droplets of perspiration and perverted female excitement.
"Good evening, Gringa girls. My name is Rose and I welcome you here to the General's house. You probably wonder why you have been chosen to attend this affair... you lovely young American things... You are all dressed to his General's personal liking, eating his fine food, drinking his wine. But don't forget you are still his prisoners!"
A hush fell over the audience, interrupted by a wet sniffle, moan, and a pitiful whimper, silenced immediately by the fierce crack of the lash.
Rose curled her luscious upper lip, hands poised on one out-thrust hip, feet wide apart. "Now you will see how we treat our Gringa prisoners. Welcome to the Mexican Prison Nightmare...!"
Helga watched in terror as Rose turned on her heel, bent over and wriggled her nakedly round brown buttocks. Simultaneously, a gong thundered, setting everyone on the brink of their chairs, a higher beamed light pierced through the inky darkness of the stage to illuminate a bed. Rose snarled a roaring animal sound, twirling her whip in the air and brought it down to wrap around the iron bedposts like a coiled snake.
A scream shivered from the bed and a pale, naked young woman wriggled seductively there... a girl so tenderly young, so defenselessly close to the prime of her life.
Suddenly Helga clasped her glass as if teetering on the brink of insanity. "Eeeeiikkk!" Her hands flew to her mouth. "That's Polly!"
Major Emanuel clamped his hand over hers and ordered her to be silent as the show went on. Helga's heart burned in her chest as the masked girl sashayed across the stage, her big breasts jiggling like water-filled balloons. Again her evil whip hissed through the air and crackled above the bed where Polly cowered in real fear. The third crack of the lash bit across Polly's nakedly trembling stomach, leaving an angry red welt.
Helga's mouth went bone dry and her eyes squeezed out salty tears as she watched her cellmate press her legs together in a futile attempt to huddle away from Rose's whip and the shaming eyes of the audience. Helga screamed with the next lash that sizzled over Polly's snowy white thigh.
"Nooooo... noooo!" came Polly's familiar little-girl whimper from the stage. "Help me... somebody help me!" Helga closed her eyes, trying to shut out the hiss of the whip slapping over Polly's naked, whimpering little white body, and when she clapped her hands over her ears, Jose pulled them roughly away.
"Don't make a spectacle of yourself, little white whore, or you'll be next!" Opening one blue eye she watched her naked young companion's body squirm and wiggle like a worm cut in half by a spade. Polly's ripe little breasts jumped and quivered and with the next crack of the whip she screamed in agonized pain, her emerald eyes grey with fear as she lifted her head from the bed to stare at the red welt snaked across her arm and shoulder. Cowering, Polly pulled her knees up to her chest in a prenatal position and wept.
"Obey me!" Rose snarled.
Polly panted for breath, her lungs burning with fear, eyes clenched shut... reluctantly, she nodded her head quickly in acquiescence.
"Roll over on your back, Gringa!" The whip flicked through the air and snapped like a rifle shot over the bed.
Wasting no time, Polly rolled over on her back, thighs pressed together, eyes swollen shut with fear. The menacing whip bit at her legs this time, followed by the demand: "Spread your legs!"
Helga thought she might be sick. What kind of Medieval torture was this? Except for the screams and snaking whip, the room was stony silent... not totally out of empathy, however, as the girl spread her long, lithe legs, giving everyone a peek at the swollen velvety lips of her little pink cunt nestled in a wedge of brown pubic curls.
The military men in the audience sucked in their breath, in a collective hiss of lust while the female prisoners shuddered in fear... their collective conscience telling them it could be any one of them up there on the stage being humiliated and beaten.
Rose yanked off her mask, stomped on it, and kicked it toward the audience. This time the whip left a red welt on Polly's firm breasts, the tip wrapped around the rosebud of her nipple. "I said open them... open your legs wide! Knees up and open!"
Stifling her sobs, Polly obeyed, spreading her legs so far apart that the cords stood out like velvet ropes along her inner thighs. The whip hissed another warning over her pale body and she cringed and bent her knees upward. Then she lay unmoving, her naked breasts quivering like set jell-o, her legs doing an impossible split, while the tears streaming down her pain-twisted face smeared black smudges of mascara along her satin cheeks.
"You see our little Gringa loves to be treated like this!" Rose said sardonically. "Look at the Gringa's pink pussy... see how wet it is?"
Sure enough, one by one, pairs of frightened eyes faded to curious ones, and almost imperceptibly, everyone in the audience rose an inch or two off his seat and leaned forward for a better peek. A gasp emanated from the crowd as all eyes studied the erect pink clitoris-nub throbbing with excitement, the glistening dewy wetness in the delicate, splayed-open inner sex-lips.
"This is disgusting!" blasted Helga, glaring up into Jose's smirking face. "She's my friend... she doesn't deserve to be treated like this!"
Jose raised his thick eyebrows in answer to that charge. "You'll see..." was all he said.
Helga's brain refused to believe what her eyes saw. Nobody could get sexually aroused from being treated like an animal! Subconsciously, she blotted out her own experience with Maria... and the bittersweet orgasm of that lesbian coupling.
Rose flipped her black cape over her shoulder, giving the audience a healthy peek of her melonous breasts that jounced with her every wicked step. With a twisted smile she said: "Our prisoner will be forced to do many things for you tonight." Rose winked at her audience, then bent her knees, feet wide apart and tilted her pelvis up. With her blood- red lacquered fingertips, she spread apart the swollen petals of her own pussy... wide enough for everyone to see the oily marble of her clitoris, which she gave a few polishing strokes and a rub. "What you don't know..." she said throatily, tossing back her mane of raven hair, "...is that she likes it. That little innocent American bitch likes being whipped!"
A barely audible gasp-a mixture of sucked in breath and hot panting breathing-rippled through the dark room and the clink of crystal glasses hitting the marble table tops signaled that many were calming rapid pulses with a drink of Sangria.
"You may think we are merely torturing this young gringa girl... but remember, this is for your pleasure, too." Her grin was cold enough to freeze water. "Even though you are sitting in your seats, you are part of what goes on up here. Her humiliation is also for your pleasure."
The brilliant yellow light bathed Polly in an unearthly glow, her alabaster legs split wide as they would stretch, striped with red welts. Helga swallowed dryly, crying inside, hating the General and his camaraderie of perverts for debasing her cellmate like this... and she saw the puddle of pearly juices oozing from Polly's pink little pussy, dribbling down between her legs to dampen the sheet on the bed. Helga refused to believe the obvious.
Nobody was listening to Rose's wicked diatribe about pain and pleasure... so engrossed were they with the pretty American girl's haplessly seeping vagina and the total humiliation of her condition. Every girl in the room had more or less suffered some of the same degradation at the hands of the Mexican police... and seeing a fellow American prisoner nakedly getting excited served as a lurid reminder of that shameful defeat of their own psyche. Helga realized just that and she withered.
Rose cupped one milky breast and pulled its weight up to her mouth, then licked the pink puffy nipple until it puckered. "This is a play about life, little gringas..." she pinched and twisted her own dark nipples as she talked, "...about life in our Mexican prisons. You Gringas may think we Mexicans torture you, but we are actually giving you pleasure as well! This play is a way to give you, your..." and she hissed the word, "freedom!"
Helga sank back in her seat, withering, as if kicked in the stomach. What depths of perversion would these monsters leave untapped? After watching her innocent young cellmate being shamed to death, the answer was obvious... nothing! They would strip every American girl in the room of her decency and self respect before finally freeing them in the name of the law. In private, the ravishment of a lesbian was tolerable... well, almost acceptable... but to be humiliated in front of an audience was downright... perverted!
God, why am I getting excited at watching my cellmate being beaten? What's wrong with me? The blonde haired prisoner squirmed nervously against the cushions of the chaise and felt an electric tingle of sensation as a hard seam brushed against her vulva through the coarse lam� of her gown. God... I'm all... wet down there! she thought in self-deprecation, and somewhere in her mind she was wishing she could reach down and stick a finger up inside herself. Something about watching innocent Polly at the hands of a mad woman reminded her of Maria's convincing tactics and a hot itch snaked its way between her legs. She had to get some air or she would pass out! Her half empty glass of Sangria tumbled to the floor, spilling over her dress as she rose to her feet. Desperately, she darted for the aisle, away from the tangle of chairs and feet.
"Se�orita, sit down!" hissed Jose, grabbing her arm, and giving it a twist, wrenched her back down into her seat. "You will be sorry."
Helga hid her head in her hands and sobbed, opening her blue orbs at a gasp rising from the audience. Separating her fingers, she stole a peek. A naked man ambled onto the stage. "Ohhhh," Helga sobbed, staring at the man's log-sized penis with a slit seeping with pre-coital juices dangling from the end.
Lord, it could bludgeon her to death! Right there before her eyes, close enough to touch it, his purple-veined cock pulsed, gushing with blood, growing. It pointed at the audience, and with another gush of blood, pointed at the ceiling.
The handsome young Mexican shot the audience a Cheshire grin, winked and stroked his penis with one meaty hand as he stood next to the bed and gazed down hungrily at the helpless young prisoner with her legs still spread wide. His heavily muscled back rippled with a thin coating of perspiration from the hot flood lights. Helga's eyes locked on the huge mushroom-headed cock and stared fixedly as he slowly stroked it to rock hardness, pulling the slippery foreskin back over the moist blue end until the tip flared out, scarlet red.
Helga jumped with the next lash of the whip. "On your knees, bitch!" the female torturer commanded. Polly scrambled to her knees whimpering like a puppy, rubbing the fine welt on her leg, looking up into the black eyes of the naked man who'd just stepped into her line of vision.
The sadistic woman watched with lecherous eyes as she rotated her pelvis at the crowd, bent her knees and ran a finger over the slit of her seeping vagina. Pumping her hips at pairs of gawking eyes, Rose rubbed her cuntal lips until they parted like rose petals, then stabbed one finger into the moistened slit, threw her head back in ecstasy and hissed, "Suck it, bitch. Suck his cock!" With an obscene sluicing sound, she rammed her finger up her pussy, giving it a few hammering strokes, then withdrew it and licked at the sticky-coated finger, her eyelashes fluttering over her cheeks.
On the bed Polly quelled for an instant, cringing, eyes wide. Rose snarled and cracked the whip again, causing Polly to arch her back in an ear-piercing scream. Her breasts jutted out, nipples puckered, as the whip cut across her back.
The naked man standing by the bed, twisted his lips cruelly and grabbed Polly by the hair so that she couldn't budge. The next crack of the whip drew blood to Polly's creamy flesh and her scream was cut off by a thick cock jamming into her mouth, nearly tearing her mouth at the corners. "Mmmmmffff!" she screamed around the hunk of meat in her mouth.
The sinews of the Mexican's arms stood out like telephone cords as he grabbed her ears and held her curly hair cruelly entangled around his finger as he brutishly pumped his hips forward, ramming his throbbing cock deep into the poor prisoner's widely stretched mouth.
Helga slumped in her seat, agonizing over her friend's brutal, mouth-splitting torture... and agonizing over the lack of anything in her own seeping pussy. Yes, despite her friend's humiliation and pain, her own itching vagina was moist with lust!
Obviously, Helga was not alone in her secret passion, for the rest of the audience leaned forward for a close-up of the fellow prisoner's face as the blood-fed cock violated her soft, warm mouth. The shaft of hard male flesh was moving in and out of her tightly ovaled mouth like some great piston gradually being lubricated and glistening wet from saliva.
Polly's eyes were swollen tight from humiliated tears and her pink stretched lips slid up and down the man's golden cock in a slow rhythm that matched the grinding of her slender hips. The man held her head in place, fingers wrapped in her brown curls and slowly, with sadistic pleasure, fucked her mouth. Then Polly opened her wild eyes and Helga nearly fainted! My God, Polly is enjoying this!
Helga sat forward in her chair, truly fascinated, as Polly's little hands reached out and caressed the man's straining thighs and fluttered them over the hard muscles, snaking gradually up to the wiry patch of his loins to cradle and caress his cum-bloated balls with one hand while the fingers of the other hand tried to grip around the thick cock. Her tiny fingers didn't quite make it all the way around, so she squeezed hard, trying to make her index finger meet thumb in an obscene measurement of his virility. Her tongue twirled around the bloated head of his cock, licking at the slit like a mother cat cleaning her kittens.
The room fell silent as a tomb while onlookers gazed with fascinated eyes and open mouths. Steam seemed to rise from the carpet in a cloud of passion as the rustling of evening gowns being pulled asunder and the occasional whine of a zipper announced the effects of Polly's ravishment on the Mexican prison guards.
On stage, Rose knelt by the man's naked loins and Polly's head while she fucked herself in the pussy with the handle of her bullwhip in time to Polly's rhythmic sucking. Polly sucked on the man's bone hard flesh as if it were food for a starving man; muffled moans of ecstatic delight rumbled from her wide open mouth as her cheeks hollowed to create a vacuum. Helga didn't think she could watch any more, when Polly's fingernails dug into the tightly clenched flesh of his buttocks, goading her ravisher on... coaxing him to cum.
As she sat completely engrossed in her cellmate's perverted pleasure on stage, Helga suddenly realized that she was breathing harder and her mouth felt very dry. As if reading her mind, Jose filled her Sangria glass from the pitcher and held it to her lips. Without thinking, she downed the liquid, attempting to cool some of the warmth the salacious images on stage was transmitting to her body.
Completely fascinated, Helga stared at Polly who, under the hands of her ravisher, seemed to be going mad as she sucked madly on the man's cock. Helga squirmed her hips down on the cushion again, not caring if Jose observed her movements. She could feel the wetness spreading between her thighs and she wriggled to gain greater contact with the cushion. The warm fabric rubbed excitingly against her tiny rising pink clitoris through the material of her dress.
With a sudden burst of shame, Helga stopped herself in mid-grind. How can I get excited by watching my friend being tortured? Still, she leaned back on the chaise, still careful not to break contact with the edge of the cushion pressed into the damp crevice between her fevered young thighs and found herself leaning into Jose's muscular arm. Too distraught to even think about what she was doing, she allowed herself to relax against it and again directed her attention to the figures on the stage. She barely noticed it when Jose's hand dropped down to the rising swell of her breast.
On stage, Rose laughed cruelly and sprawled her half naked body lewdly beside Polly on the bed, her hand massaging her sizzling cunt, spreading the coral-red lips wide open as she looked hungrily at the young captive's welted back. Particularly attentive was she of Polly's perfectly rounded buttocks pumping and churning rhythmically as she sucked on the Mexican's bloated cock.
The caped vixen grinned obscenely and reached out to caress Polly's sensuous ass-cheeks. This all looked too familiar to Helga who watched her young cellmate arch her back and thrust her buttocks out, widening a path to her puckered little anus. With a sadistic grunt, Rose spread the girl's ass-cheeks, exposing her swollen, wet pussy.
Helga felt a moan growing in her own throat as two thumbs moved downward and slowly pulled apart the wet flesh of Polly's glistening pink pussy. Rose winked at the audience and licked her lips and, with a sudden movement, her head shot forward and her tongue curled right up into Polly's defenseless cuntal hole!
The effect on Polly was nothing short of cataclysmic! She went wild, swallowing as much of the blue-veined cock as possible, sucking with a voracious appetite as her hips rolled and pumped against Rose's mouth. Rose slid further under Polly's churning buttocks, holding onto the girl's hips tightly while her tongue lashed and darted up into her seeping hole.
Helga stiffened as she saw one outstretched finger probe for the elastic ring of Polly's tiny anus and finding it, plunging brutally and wildly inside the hot, buttery depths.
The effect was all too real as Polly struggled to scream around the cock jammed in her mouth; her eyes were tightly shut against the pain of Rose's invading finger mercilessly rammed into her nether ring, twisting around. Deeper it went... up to the first knuckle... then the second, before sawing in and out to the rhythm of her red hot tongue fucking in the captive girl's clasping pussy. Rose's finger sunk clear to the palm of her hand as it fucked into Polly's rectum, matched now in brutality by the man's redoubled efforts to stuff all of his eleven inches past Polly's tonsils.
Helga's rampaging heart seemed to thump in time to Polly's double fucking, and bolts of unwanted lust coursed through, thrilling her in an unholy manner. She was so wet down there between her legs, she was sure it had stained her dress! The shock of her response to her friend's rape brought Helga back to reality and only Jose's tight grasping of her now tingling breasts kept her from leaping to her feet and running from the room. Helga was witnessing a reenactment of her own rape back there on the grimy floor of the Laredo prison and all this was simply too much to accept at once. She wanted to get away, but that was unthinkable!
A second glass of wine was held to her open, wet mouth by Jose, forcing past her panting lips, it shot down her throat and relaxed her body... but did nothing to ward off Jose's snaking fingers that had reached inside the bodice of her dress to cup the trembling, sensitive breast he had been fondling so intimately through her clothing. He trapped its already puckered nipple between his thumb and forefinger and she was amazed at how good it felt. Her nipples were already hard from the excitement. Just once, she thought, it would be thrilling to be treated like a whore without feeling any guilt. Just once would be enough... and that once was now! Helga struggled to maintain control of her breathing. Glassy-eyed, she gazed in abject fascination at the strange drama being enacted before her eyes.
Then she became aware that her cruel escort had dropped his free hand down on her dimpled knee, slipping it upwards toward the fullness of her bare upper thigh. Startled by the unexpected contact, she tried to squirm away, but Jose's other arm clamped tightly around her shoulders and she could only slide her damp buttocks a short ways on the seat. Even in her distress, the friction of the cushion and the moist silk of her panties against her feverishly excited young cunt sent flashes of electrifying sensations up her spine. The lecherous military man was lifting the hem of her slithery tight dress, sliding his hand along the naked flesh of her inner thighs. Helga uttered a low, helpless groan of despair as his other hand gave a sudden, vicious pinch to one distended nipple, sending a shock of exquisite pleasure shooting through her body. Her eyes remained glued on the lascivious, unnatural activities taking place on the stage as she clenched her teeth together... fighting with all her remaining strength to control the unwanted, but high state of passionate arousal that was threatening to devour her.
On stage, Rose pulled her finger and face free from Polly's violated little cunt and anus and sat up. A trickle of female juices trickled from her upper lip onto her chin and she wiped it off with her hand. Polly was beyond herself with lust now, her buttocks churning frantically trying to recapture the delicious tongue and wild finger in the wet centers of her passion. Obviously, new thrilling perverted delights were about to happen, for Rose pulled herself off the bed... one hunk of goosebumped aroused flesh.
The audience followed Rose's gaze to the curtain behind which a second naked, and equally brown-skinned Mexican man appeared, coolly appraising the efforts of the curly headed gringa girl as her pale buttocks twitched lecherously for attention. Though slightly shorter than the first man, this one had a penis to match the one fucking into Polly's pretty little mouth.
Face tight with passion, the second man crawled in behind the young American prisoner's alabaster buttocks. In one swift motion, he seized her nakedly grinding hips with strong dark hands and dug his fingers in hard to the soft white flesh, holding her cruelly in place.
Before Helga's awe-widened eyes, her innocent cellmate, who earlier had all but gotten sick at the thought of having another female touch her body, now arched her back, thrusting her hips and buttocks, rotating her pelvis, squirming and spreading her legs further apart. The jewel of her reddened clitoris seemed to wink at him in invitation.
With a viciously quick thrust, the man snapped his hips forward and slammed his aching cock into her seeping cunt hole with a loud smack. He fell into a fucking rhythmic beat, matching that of the purple veined cock ramming into Polly's stuffed mouth.
Helga's forehead beaded with sweat and she felt wetness covering her hot young body from her armpits to the crying slit of her pussy. On stage, Polly was sweating profusely too... glistening droplets that ran over her cream-white breasts made them seem to glow as they swayed deliciously beneath her bucking torso as the two men pounded and slammed into her with a brutal, bed-rocking force that nearly made Helga dizzy.
Poor Polly... she's being savagely raped and she's loving it. They must have drugged her! This can't be my cellmate Polly... it can't be!!!
Rose crawled on hands and knees back onto the bed, whip in hand; the smug grin on her evil face was purely sadistic. For the first time in minutes she spoke:
"Our prisoner is a prisoner only onto herself now... for she loves being whipped! Watch and realize what pain and pleasure is all about."
People nearly crawled onto the stage to get a better look as Rose toyed with the whip while casting evil glances down at the threesome on the bed, with Polly sandwiched in between being fucked in the cunt and mouth so hard, Helga swore those cocks had to meet somewhere in the middle! Rose's fingers trailed down over her naked stomach, over the lacey garter belt and down to her cunt to spread wide the dewed petals, showing the glistening coral hue of her soft cuntal walls.
The tip of one outstretched red-tipped finger played with her button-sized clitoris as she snapped the whip back. It hissed through the air like a striking snake, then cracked down around Polly's slender waist. The taste of the whip only drove Polly onto greater frenzy. She screwed her creamy buttocks up higher to take more of the dark bludgeoning cock slamming into her crying cunt from behind while gluttonously, her head bobbed, taking in another two inches of the penis before a regurgitating gagging slowed her enthusiasm.
Again the whip whistled, slapping down on the sweaty writhing white body of the once innocent young prisoner. The two brown-skinned Mexican males, mindlessly lost to an ancient lust brought on by the sight of the conquered white slave, so helpless before them, fucked the squirming gringa girl with no mercy. They ravaged the subjugated white flesh until the audience could literally hear their hard pelvic bones slap wetly and brutally against poor Polly's button nose and her soft fleshy thighs, smashing them with loud smacking sounds that filled the room.
The man fucking into her from behind, dug his dirty nails cruelly and tightly into the soft flesh of her white-mooned ass and fucked her until his dark balls slapped against the backs of her pale thighs. At her other ravished end, the man held Polly's head vise-like, by her hair, gripping so hard she couldn't move a single hair on her head without his approval. A muffled mewling, animal sound of passion gurgled from Polly's stuffed mouth even as she struggled to catch her breath. Polly was reduced to one quivering mass of aroused white flesh.
With a roar, the man in front let out a snarl and thrashed his head from side to side, head thrown back, eyes shut, mouth open. He fucked upward with all his might, thrusting so deep into her constricted throat that Polly rose two full inches off the mattress. He was cumming, shooting his scalding Mexican cum down her white throat to bathe her tonsils in sticky ball-fluid. Polly sucked and swallowed frantically, but despite her efforts, dribbles of sperm trickled down her chin and out of the corners of her impossibly stretched mouth.
Helga gasped as the man pulled his wildly jerking penis free from Polly's mouth that lingered in a desperate pucker, struggling to hold onto the hot dark pole of tantalizing brown flesh. He held her pale face in place as his whole body shuddered and tensed a second time. "Aaaaaaaaagghhhhaaaa!!!" he roared. His eyes closed tightly as his second load of hot, Mexican cum splattered all over Polly's sweet little white face, pouring into her dimples and bubbling right up her straining nostrils. Some ran into her ears and some soaked into her lashes and eyebrows.
Helga's jaw fell slack as the tender young girl, no longer innocent, struggled frantically to catch some of the shooting sperm, licking her lips and swallowing whatever she could, crying out in mindless lust for him to poke his cock back into her hungering mouth-hole.
Seconds later, the man charging into her from behind, bellowed out his triumph and, his face twisting, he pulled his blood-fed penis free of her fucked-open red cunt at the last minute, and Helga shuddered as a thick stream of white hot sperm shot out across Polly's welted back, criss-crossing the crimson whip marks. The sticky, yellow-white streams glistened in the flood lights like so much puss from an infected wound.
And then it was over. The two men let go of Polly's slumped over white body, left bruised, welted and covered with an obscene layer of their sticky sperm. Helga had never seen anything so pathetic as her friend lying up there, pale and naked, splayed out for all to see in the shameful aftermath of her lust. Would Polly burst into tears?
Rose answered that question for her. Viciously, she yanked Polly by her curls and held up the girl's baby white face for all to see. "Did you enjoy that? Tell your fellow prisoners if I hurt you, or if you enjoyed it."
The look on Polly's still sweet, innocent white face was a ghostly apparition, the dark side of her lost innocence. "Yes!" Polly hissed through clenched teeth. Her eyes were half swollen from her earlier crying, almost sealed shut with the yellow coatings of sperm, and she smiled lewdly, licking the cum around her mouth. "I loved it! Oh, God, I loved it!"
Rose let the gringa's head drop like a bag of discarded garbage... and the lights went out, followed by a swoosh of the closing curtain. Gone was the musky scent of lingering sex... and gone forever was Polly's wide-eyed innocence.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The hot musky scent of lust multiplied to dizzying degrees in the still-smoldering heat of the theatre, as probing brown fingers and snaking tongues slithered toward captive white faces with ovaled red mouths and helplessly moist pink vaginas... heralding stage one of The General's Annual Military Ball.
Jose Emanuel's human decency shed with his uniform, he clawed bear-like at Helga's pale white body like it was honey in the hive, ripping the single strap from her shoulder to expose the strawberry-red nipple topping the creamy mound of white flesh on her left breast. In the foray, the marble topped table crashed over and Sangria splattered everywhere, red as a virgin's spilt blood.
"No! I'm not going to be made into your whore!" Helga spat, aghast at how her American gringa sisters were trading their souls for the cheapness of sex.
Jose's lip curled with lust and he took a flying leap to nail her to the floor.
"Eeeeeiiikkkk!" Helga snatched up a discarded spike heel shoe and wielding it over head, crashed it down over Jose's skull, stopping him in mid-leap. He crashed to the floor in a pool of sticky blood. One more scream made no difference... Jose's cry mingled and was lost in a chorus of grunts and squeals as captors and captives threw themselves into an S & M party that would have made Marquis de Sade blush with shame.
The tangled mingle of dark brown skin topping the contrasting white arms and legs resembled more of a Pissarro victory than a general's military ball. Only one victim escaped...
Helga clamped the dress hem in a clenched fist and ran on polished tip-toes for the door, jumping over naked bodies littering her path. Half way through the door a brutal hand clamped over her arm and then a second one... less gentle than the first... dumped her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and dragged her kicking white body back to the dormitory where her weary, sob-wracked frame was dumped on top of the bed. The door locked shut behind her.
Helga wasted no time in making her decision; "I've got to get out of here! Oh God, they'll torture us until we die!" Images of Polly's sex-raptured face flitted through Helga's Sangria sodden brain, straining out fear and reprisal... and dwelling on those inevitabilities.
Her hands dug at the bedclothes, tearing off the coverlet and the two sheets and roping them together, she tied them securely and fastened one end to the iron bedpost. Trembling, quivering fingers threw open the window and hiking her gold dress up around her waist, she held it in a wad and did a Tarzan swing through the open window.
She dangled there like a shimmering Christmas tree ornament, her toes gracing the windowsill of the first floor. Daring herself to take the last leap, she sucked in her breath, heart pounding in her temples, and kicked off the windowsill and was about to drop to the ground for the dart across the wall when the yap of hungry dogs stopped her short.
Instinct told her to hang on... well, too, for a brace of Doberman Pinschers, mangy and starved, fangs dripping with saliva, leapt into the air to snap at the deliciously slender pale ankles dangling in front of their noses like so much raw meat.
It was some minutes later that she was rescued by an older guard, who reined in the dogs.
"Come weeth me, Se�orita," growled a toothless little Mexican man with a leathery face. "The General he weell be pleesed. Nobody runs away from the Mansion." His flashlight beam slinked slowly over her white flesh for a time, first up the open slit of her evening gown, between the ample white flesh of her thighs, then resting on the flapped down bodice where her fat, creamy breast with its strawberry nipple dangled freely, before he finally helped her down.
She held her torn strap up to draw the curtain on her creamy flesh and followed him meekly back to the dormitory, a whimpering, frightened girl. What will they do to me now?
* * * * *
"What does the General propose we do with thees Gringa? She ees as spirited as a wild horse," Manuel said apologetically, shrugging his shoulders and spreading his hands, knowing that his chosen prisoner's failures to please the General and his highest officials put a big black X on his record. Ohhh, stupeed mee... why deedn't I send Karen she would gladly open her pink asshole for a goat... but no, I go for the really beautiful ones!
Major Jose Emanuel sat in an overstuffed chair, nursing his drink and holding a bag of ice on the two inch gash Helga put in his skull. "Se�orita Helga must be taught a real lesson like all these American Gringas," muttered the shamed Major, whose machismo had been deeply wounded by his failure to seduce the gorgeous tall Gringa with the big white breasts and spun golden hair. To have predetermined the General's choice of women from the seventy-eight held at the Monterrey Mansion would have been quite a distinction... better still, to have broken her in first.
Burning to heal the wounds inflicted by his prisoner's fiery temper, Manuel offered a quick suggestion. "General, shall I fetch the Se�orita for you now?" To embarrass the General's highest officials was the same as putting the General to shame... and indirectly, Manuel had done just that. He quivered inside, fearful of the General's explosive temper.
The General scraped contemplatively with his thumb nail at a dried speck of hot sauce that had dribbled over a few medals to soil his scarlet ribbon. He chewed on his cigar as he made his decision. "No, I think not. The best punishment is the unexpected. Use her in the show tomorrow night... but with no hypnosis!" The General licked his beefy lips and snickered lewdly.
"Tomorrow the Se�orita will know far more sorrow than is her share."
Manuel shuddered. Eef she does not please the General, she weell die! He crossed himself over the chest and hastened to refill Major Emanuel's empty scotch glass.
The General stroked the few hairs remaining on his balding scalp. "Tonight I will be on the stage... to personally welcome our Miss Helga to the Mansion..." he said with a lewd smirk that hinted at cruelty.
CHAPTER NINE
They didn't come to her with whips and chains and rip off her clothes and drag her out to be ravished and raped... as Helga expected. They treated her with queenly indulgence, giving her time to think and drink and watch the closed circuit television set.
On the screen she watched a close-up of a burly naked Mexican man sitting on a lounge. His erection was of obscene proportions-somewhere in between King-Kong and Paul Bunyan. A young blonde girl, tall and willowy, who reminded Helga of herself, was kneeling subserviently between his dark brown thighs and holding the ebony shaft of his hard cock with her delicate white fingers.
Her pink tongue lashed out hungrily and curled around the swelling mushroom head of the man's dark penis. Her luscious wet lips played slippery tricks, sliding and sucking the slitted tip of the lust- thickened penis. The girl's salacious teasing was obviously having its effect on the man... he grabbed her head brutally with both hands and, at the same time, savagely thrust this thick shaft of hard male flesh deep... well past her tonsils.
Oh, so that's the trick! They're going to show me dirty movies to get me excited. They don't know how stubborn a Norwegian girl can be... she snickered, pouring herself a drink and settling down in the over-stuffed chair. What she failed to realize is that resistance is the first stage of submission. With a fatalistic masochism, she poured herself a drink from the bottle of whiskey they'd left for her. Whiskey... porno flicks... what do they think I am? In a way, she wished they would drug her.
Time dragged on, and out of boredom, she took a sip of the whiskey. After the second one, it didn't burn as badly and she settled down in the chair and watched as the faceless girl on the screen closed her wet lips around the man's lust swollen cock, fully aware that this was calculated to play upon her basest instincts... her masochistic tendencies... to ready their victim for tonight's on-stage slaughter.
To pass the time she tried to sleep, but couldn't. There were no magazines to read... nothing to do but watch the screen.
When the bottle reached the halfway mark, everything started taking effect simultaneously. Gradually, the whip's crackling and hissing, sluicing down over tender white flesh, disappeared from the eye of her memory and a flutter of unwanted sensuality teased through her veins. The cries of rapture bubbling from Polly's mouth-stuffed well with Mexican man-cock-shouted out above the helpless screams of pain and her well-anesthetized brain lingered on this vision as she stared at the young gringa girl on the screen.
Helga turned away from the screen and looking in a wall mirror, saw her stunning good looks and her wildly voluptuous figure that swelled out from the sheer robe she wore. Slightly drunk, she reached up to cup a breast, weighing it before her reflection and grinned. She had never touched herself like this, but it felt good... damnably good! If others were to look at her naked white body, squirming helplessly beneath a mass of overpowering male muscle, it was her privilege to peek first. Nervously, she poured herself a stiff drink-at least three fingers of amber liquor-and chugged it down.
With tantalizing slowness, she stood looking in the crystal mirror, taking in her own figure, turning this way and that, appraising herself objectively... as would her live audience. Hers was an incredible figure... tall, yet fully developed with curves in the right places. And her full, creamy breasts... why had she never noticed before how big and pink her nipples were? She drank and turned again to the television screen.
The blonde girl was naked now, sitting in the chair. Now the dark man was kneeling in front of her and had forced the innocent looking young thing to put her legs up over the arms of the chair. Her knees were hooked over the arms of the chair and her full firm white thighs were split wide open. Apparently this was to be the opposite side of fellatio, for the man roughly spread the girls eagerly trembling pale legs wider still, forcing her to shove her glistening pink cunt forward to the edge of the chair. The brown man grinned lewdly and slowly spread the wetly throbbing lips of the girl's pussy before burying his dark face into the pink wet hole of her sex.
Despite her captive plight, and despite her sworn resistance, stage two of submission crept to centerfront. Helga fought the temptation to touch herself... for a minute... until her free hand brushed accidentally over her stomach and pubic mound, sending goosebumps prickling over her satin flesh. Lust crept through her craven white flesh and nerves like slow, warm syrup... if she kept watching the screen, she would become insanely excited. That would make their torture easier... from a physical standpoint. But what about her morals?
She forced herself to ignore the screen and concentrate on her imprisonment. Much to her chagrin she realized they were one and the same: If she were back home in North Dakota the idea of going before a live audience naked, would be repulsive. Here she was a prisoner... free of guilt, free of moral bonds. All that seemed too heady a thought and her blue eyes returned to the television screen where the girl's head was flailing back and forth with an abandoned passion as her slender hips churned and ground wildly upward against the man's slithering tongue darting, licking and stabbing deep into her writhing pussy. Helga moaned... just once... a sound of hunger and despair. She had cum that way once...
By the time the guards knocked on the door, she was ready... giddy with drink and half-naked. Lewdly, she sprawled in the chair, one tanned leg swung over the arm, her thin dress pulled up over her knees, giving the guards an eye-opening shot at the sopping crotchband of her panties. Her blonde hair was disheveled and swept over one blue eye. She grinned impishly up at the two Mexican guards who had come to fetch her.
"Hellllo..."
She winked at the shorter one, her eyes rolling drunkenly in her head. Her loins were hungrily throbbing, achingly teasing her. For six hours she had been alone, thinking of the events of the past few days... Maria's hot tongue, Jose's handsome profile, and Polly's cries of ecstasy under the whip.
The two guards smiled nefariously at her as they helped her out of the chair. They grinned at one another and said something in Spanish as she wobbled to her feet, eyeing them with a wicked smile.
"Se�orita... take off your dress so we can get you ready. The General ees anxious," he commanded in halting English.
They leered at her with insinuated smiles and politely waited for her to strip down. The young woman felt a certain kind of depravity in stripping on command before these two guards who could easily beat her bloody for disobeying their command. She had to strip, didn't she? Dizzily, she slipped the cotton dress off over her head and stood looking at the men submissively, her huge creamy breasts, heavy and as well-rounded as melons, proudly thrust out.
Slowly, taking her time and driving both men wild with lust, she cupped them and squeezed them. Helga smirked, seeing how the taller man clenched his fists and how his slightly smaller friend ground his teeth together in frustration. She discovered facets of her soul and emotions she had never dreamed she possessed... and teasing these men was only the frosting. Letting the tip of her velvety tongue wetly lick her pouting lips, she thrust her hips and pelvis insolently forward. Helga stood with her hands on her flaring hips, naked except for her flimsy bikini panties.
She captivated them with her insolence... jutting her hips obscenely forward and rolling the material of her panties down. She peeled down the skin-tight gossamer panties slowly, the red tip of her tongue sticking out of her mouth, her big beautiful doll-like blue eyes impudent.
Turning she faced the men again, brazenly taking her time, defying all her principles. Her eyes caught the taller man's hand and how he barely resisted the temptation to rip her panties from her voluptuously tanned body. "Hurry up, Se�orita! The General can not be kept waiting!"
"Fuck him..." she said, liking the way the word rolled off her tongue-a word never used by her before.
"You will, Se�orita, you will," The taller man flicked his wrist to check the time, then stepped forward with an irritating snicker. Helga pulled her panties down and let them flutter to the floor.
Hands were all over her, dressing her in a silk robe of rich red with black embroidery: the silken feel cooled her senses... for a moment, and then she flushed with rampant shame and embarrassment as they led her down the hallway to the darkened stage. One of the guards pointed to the bed, instructed her to go towards it, and then the lights flooded on.
CHAPTER TEN
The curtains swooshed open onto two bronzed men standing naked on stage. A noise, a ripple of electrical current ran through the audience and whispers filtered through the crowd up on to the stage. The General and his recently favored officer from Nuevo Laredo paraded back and forth on the stage, showing off their well-equipped masculinity in a rare show of exhibitionism. For those who had attended these annual events in the past, the message was clear. The General was about to mete out punishment to one of his prisoners. Would he mutilate her? Or would he merely beat her to within an inch of her life?
No one knew who the unfortunate victim was... until the spotlight shone on the center stage, its beams bouncing off the smooth metal iron bedframe still spattered with speckles of Polly's blood. A noise, a groan of empathy rose from the crowd as an innocent looking young woman with shimmering blonde hair, actually white under the lights, sat on the bed. Clearly, she was nervous.
What had such a beautiful young thing done to infuriate the General? She was gorgeous, pure looking as the first daisy of spring.
Dizzily, Helga stood up, her body completely covered from the neck down to her toes in the silk robe. She smiled vacantly, drunkenly, her wetly parted lips laxly open as she stared off absentmindedly with glazed eyes as if concentrated on a thought... a remembrance.
Lieutenants and Colonels leaned over their tables for a closer look at his virginal blonde Gringa... before they closed in on her. She seemed too well bred, too beautiful to fall prey to The General's nasty temperament. A collective hushhhh rolled like London fog from the audience as the naked General advanced, his heavy feet thumping on the stage floor like an angry rabbit and his heavy cum-swollen balls swaying like half-inflated water balloons between the muscular thews of his heavy brown thighs. Manuel, always one step behind The General, followed, waiting for his cue.
As she turned to the side, the audience got a provocative peek at her body beneath. A gasp of awe rose from the crowd at the satiny flesh beneath, though they could not see the goosebumps of terror prickling over her naked skin as the bullish looking General, flanked by his lewdly grinning handle-bar mustached underling, stepped to her side.
Squeezing out a scalding tear, the horrified prisoner sucked in her breath as four hands fell upon her, ripping the silken gown from her naked white body, tearing it to shreds. The General snarled, wadded it up into a red ball, tossed it to the corner and stood glaring at his prisoner, his beady lecherous black eyes boring over the naked flesh which to him had been a mere apparition on a television screen... taunting him with her wide-eyed beauty, mocking his authority by defying his rules. Now she would pay for that humiliation!
Intuition preempted inhibition, and Helga, sensing the sadistic lust flanking her naked body on both sides, remembered Manuel's evil threat. Oh, God, help me... but I have to please him! Hastily, her icy fingers crept down and tentatively felt for the half-bloated stem of The General's bulbous brown cock, dangling lewdly there in front of his dark hairy balls. Tentatively, she gave it a squeeze while her turquoise eyes squeezed out a tear. Slowly, she slipped his dark foreskin back, leaving the tip of his mushroom-shaped head naked and shiny-wet. It didn't feel cold and slimy as she thought it would, so when Manuel muttered a threatening note, Helga reached out and grabbed his penis, too.
Some of the weaker stomached men in the audience turned their heads, waiting for the screams, the chains and whips to come out... waiting to see this poor young white thing down on all fours with whip marks slashed over her gringa body. The General had been known for sticking strange objects into American prisoner's pink vaginas... bottles, dildos the size of a fence post... and there was that time with the snake? What was he waiting for?
A half sigh, half groan ran through the audience and several couples began unsnapping pants and unzipping dresses, as they stared at the blonde on stage whose hands were slowly and rhythmically pleasing the General. Greedy eyes took in her voluptuous Scandinavian beauty... the proud melonous breasts with puffy pink nipples pointing upwards. Her rib cage and waist were slender and her hips full and womanly, moving as if they were made of warm liquid and promising fluid action. Her thighs were firm and full as a mythical Viking goddess and her shimmering blonde hair accentuated her tan lusciously.
The total impression was one of unmistakable angelic innocence and pleasure, untapped sensuality and ripe curiosity. Her stomach was flat and firm, and her pubic mound jutted out as if offering its treasures below to the first explorer. Hot, half-closed eyes concentrated on her pink pussy, on her two softly pouting coral cuntal lips velvety as a baby kitten.
Manuel ground his teeth, his pulse racing out of control at the sight of this nakedly voluptuous Gringa squeezing his brown cock.
"Se�orita, you had better please the General, or there won't be enough left of you to even send back across the border," he said in a deceptively charming voice.
The General said nothing; he muttered something in Spanish and bending his knees a little, ground his hips in time to Helga's pumping fist. A single drop of pre-coital fluid dribbled from the tip of his cock and Helga gave his dark penis a tug and wiped the wetness on her naked thigh. The General groaned limply.
Self-preservation her motto, she obeyed when the General opened one puffy eyelid and glaring at her, commanded her to play with her cunt.
Immediately, Helga let go of the rigid stalk of male flesh on her right and, brushing her blonde hair from her blue eyes, she jutted her smooth hips out at the audience, giving them a peek at her pink pussy. Encouraged by the audience's hushed groan, she smiled lewdly as her free hand slid down over her belly and her fingers played in the forest of her golden pubic curls. The spotlights blinded her, hiding from her the audience's appreciative glares.
Changes she didn't understand were coming over her. Instead of fighting with all her strength to separate herself from the debasing humiliation of these lewd movements, she turned into a groaning mass of passion. She played over her wet cuntal lips like they were piano keys. Remembering how the masked girl had struck a tempting pose, Helga spread her feet wide apart and thrust out her hips; she clenched her dimpled buttocks tightly together, creating a shadowy indentation in her ass-cheeks. Her fingers unconsciously spread the swollen pink lips of her cunt apart, opening it like a fish's mouth. And all the while she played with the General's cock, squeezing and pumping, rubbing his pre-cum onto her thighs in glistening threads of lust.
"Squeeze it, gringa bitch! Squeeze it!" he muttered, reaching down to guide her hand to the tender spot underneath his cock where the vein gushed with hot blood, bloating his cock another inch.
A gasp rose from the crowd and some of the more blood-thirsty military men were getting impatient. Where were the whips?
A snarl of cruel contempt curled Manuel's upper lip. Protocol in this situation was a delicate matter, indeed. Of course the General would have first crack at the blonde gringa bitch... but when? Disgruntled, the Nuevo Laredo narcotics officer squinted through the flooding spot lights at his superior who stood purring like a pussy cat as his prisoner played with his cock... not bellowing and charging as he should. Holy Virgin Mother... the Gringa has heem under a spell... the General hee is notheeng fierce. Manuel took the offensive:
"Se�orita, there are two of us here..." With that he seized her free wrists, wrenching it away from her pink wet pussy lips and he spun her around, tearing her other hand from the General's genitals. The big man seemed confused for a moment, then fell into the action.
Four rough hands fell upon Helga's lightly tanned body, grabbing at her, forcing her down on all fours like a groveling animal. To keep her balance, she spread her legs wide, exposing her pale buttocks and the hair-lined split of her sweet little wet pussy. They fell on her at once, each seizing a creamy cheek of her ass and spreading it aside like so much white bread dough exposing the puckered little pinkish-brown button of her anus.
The audience murmured their appreciation and here and there a chanted "Fuck the Se�orita!" rose like a war flag. Some yelled for blood. The girl was, after all, merely an American gringa, a prisoner... and a defiant one at that. No mercy should be shown a Gringa who had accepted the General's hospitality but refused the proper show of appreciation for Mexican cock! Amongst this begrudging lot was Jose Emanuel who sat at a back corner sipping wine and taking pain pills for his pounding head.
"Take it easy, Manuel. I want this to take a long time. The gringa bitch is gonna suffer..."
The abused prisoner was suddenly freed and she whirled around, frightened by their sudden pouncing attack. Drunkenly, she started to scamper off stage on all fours. They dragged her back by the hair and dumped her naked body directly under the spot light for all to see.
"Squeeze our cocks!" bellowed the General, growing impatient with the American's impudence. Automatically, Helga's little hands wrapped themselves around the loggish cocks, this time pulling the brown skin all the way back until the pair of mushroomed heads turned brilliant purple. They returned her gentle caresses with brutally, savage ones, pinching her pink, puffy nipples and gouging at her soft glowing flesh. Their hard hands got wilder and ran over her naked flesh, pulling and pinching and bruising her tender flesh as if trying to skin a fish.
Helga fell into a trance. Her eyelids fluttered and a pleased, dazed grin parted her wet lips as she stroked their iron-hard cocks with both hands while their dark fingers ran torturous paths over her slim rib cage, down over her naked belly, to probe in the jewel of her belly button... and straight down to the furry blonde thatch between her lithe legs. Oh, Gawd, when are they going to shove it in me?
Pliant as a rag doll, she bent one knee and lifted the leg slightly, her weight on her bare toes, giving the men a wide open crack to her dripping pussy. She grimaced half with pain, half with anticipated pleasure as the General's thick forefinger forced its way up into her wetly throbbing cunt and began to saw in and out of the lust dampened hole as if trying to cut her in half. His finger dripped with lubrication, thick and creamy as sour cream on an enchilada.
It should have pained Helga... she should have died of mortification... she should have been nauseated by these torturous foreign brown fingers probing her tender flesh... but she felt only delicious pleasure.
Everyone in the room fell silent... some with confusion. Why was the General pleasing a prisoner he would normally destroy?
The audience sucked in their breath in one long hiss as Helga jutted her pale hips forward and let them pump in time to the fingers sawing in and out of her seeping vagina. Her hands were still squeezing the two brown cocks and stroking them rhythmically as if letting go of them would mean death.
Manuel saw his chance! Grabbing her long blonde hair from behind, he pulled her head back, nearly snapping her spine. His moustache bearded her mouth like a giant cunt and he locked it there in a long wet kiss. Their hot tongues sparred, licking at each other as his big hands pawed at her naked breasts, leaving red streaks where his fingernails scraped her white flesh and raising blood in its path.
The room seemed to grow ten degrees hotter, humid, too, from the steam of lust rising from the stage. Everyone pressed closer to the stage to witness the ravishment of this innocent angel turned devil. Low animal moans rippled from the crowd and more than one delicate hand reached inside of unzipped pants to draw out a hard length of dark male flesh, comparing it to the one-eyed monster dangling between the General's legs. Nipples, like so many winking eyes, peeked out from gown bodices.
A thud sounded as Helga fell to the stage floor, a mass of quivering satiny white flesh. The finger was yanked from her sucking hole far up between her gorgeous legs as the General forced his prisoner down to her knees.
Actually, to force Helga was silly. Willingly, slowly, tantalizingly, she knelt on the floor between the two dark men, her blonde-white hair cascading from her head like a satin pillow. Still stroking their bludgeoning brown cocks, she gazed with hungry eyes at the General's erect, brutally steel-hard penis waggling in front of her face.
Please... them... I must please them... Three weeks ago, no man could have tempted her to do what she did now with relish! With an expression of lustful bliss, Helga pulled the General's pulsating cock down to her half open mouth and let her tongue flick out and lick at its hugely swollen head. Nobody needed whips to coax her into it. She did it not for love, but for simple fear and unwanted lust.
Opening her pouty lips wide, she slowly guided the hot shaft of dark male flesh into her greedy mouth as if it were her first food in days. Her full lips closed down around the blunted head and her cheeks hollowed and expanded in a lewd sucking motion. The General's long pulsating brown cock glistened with her saliva and shone in the overhead spotlight as the big man fucked brutally in and out of her mouth. With a lewd snarl, his hands reached down to tangle in her long platinum locks and hold her head steady as he began to jolt her with the force of his strokes.
Manuel, meanwhile, contented himself with caressing her nakedly quivering white breasts as she sucked baby-like on the General's raging penis. The entertainment room was thick now with heady smoke and the musky scent of couples' rising passions.
On stage, Helga reluctantly pulled the General's lust-bloated penis from her mouth. She wanted to, but she couldn't suck two at once, could she? Her lips clung to the shiny flesh, her tongue licking its vein-heavy underside before she snapped her head around and opened her mouth wide to Manuel's long thickness. Her free hand groped behind her until she found the saliva-cum sticky length of the General's penis. She fondled its hot length as her mouth slid back and forth like an oil rig over the narcotic officer's male flesh with ecstatic intensity.
The two men were beside themselves with lust. To beat her would only break the spell and they crowded around her nakedly kneeling body, their hands roughly digging into her tender gringa flesh, massaging, caressing, pinching, poking. They seemed determined to touch every millimeter of her naked flesh, to leave their marks everywhere they could. As a final insult, they forced her to spread her mouth wide enough to allow both of their stabbing cocks into her mouth at once.
And the prisoner was loving it! Like a caged animal, she was irresponsible, reacting only out of self-preservation. Purging... strangely purging.
They held her head tilted back, holding her brutally in place by her long blonde hair as they stood side by side, fucking into her beautiful white face, punching at her. The audience went wild, but they knew better than to approach the stage... or the General's acid rancor would sour on them.
Her head was pinned back and her mouth wedged open grotesquely as both loggish brown penises crammed into her hot oral cavern. Wildly, insanely, she sucked at both of them, her hands reaching out to cup their big brown-skinned buttocks and pull them closer into her. Her hardened pink nipples rubbed against the wiry hair of their dark thighs, thrilling her to the bone with masochistic joy. Women gringa prisoners panted with disbelief and Mexican men gaped with open mouths at the sight of this voluptuous blonde haired gringa angel sinking to the true depths of depravity.
The white girl lay sprawled obscenely on the stage, her legs opening onto the lustful picture of her blonde, hair-fringed pussy with its glistening, dewed pink petals. A sexual heat was gripping everyone.
The General gritted his teeth in animal lust and Manuel's face showed the sadistic thrill of punishing this young Gringa for her insubordination. The General started to crawl up and down on his knees. and reaching under the nearby bed, he grabbed a bottle, unscrewed it and tipped the bottle above Helga's pale breasts, splashing her with oil. The big oily blobs dribbled over Helga's magnificent white breasts, poo1ing on her milky cleavage.
Grinning, he watched as Helga lewdly used her hands to smear the glistening oil all over her stomach while Manuel got into the action by rubbing it all along her curving thighs and buttocks. He devoted considerable attention to the deep, shadowy crevice between her ass-cheeks, his mustache twitching lewdly with anticipation.
Helga Anderson was lost in a private narcissistic world as she caressed herself, massaging in the oil. She tucked her chin in and bent her head as both hands tried hard to hold one slippery mound in place while her tongue licked at the nipple.
Helga was lost in a world of pure fantasy... none of this is real, she kept telling herself. Only the feeling is real.. only the feeling is real... for to think would be her undoing... her damning!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Why wasn't she screaming, writhing in agony? She was too beautiful, too stunning to be some kind of perverted kook. Yet, she was acting like a real slut.
Helga's oiled white body glistened in the flood lights while The General and Manuel punished her with poking fingers and prying hands as they stuck their fingers up into her pussy... sometimes both at once, and fucked her hard, jabbing into her tender pussy flesh. Helga wriggled on the floor like some belly dancer gone mad with lust. The men's hands didn't miss an inch of her young body as they stroked over her oiled flesh. It was a wild pagan scene unmatched by the deepest of jungle tribes; only feathers and war paint was missing.
The men's muscle-rippling brown bodies were sweating profusely under the hot lights. Finally The General got a firm grip on his gringa prisoner's slippery waist and crouched over and he said in a voice that could kill: "I'm going to fuck you now, Se�orita!"
The crowd roared, returning a barrage of obscenities.
The vulgar language only spurned Helga on to greater heights of degraded passion. Her ripe young oiled gringa body trembled and she spread her legs wider still, returning his threats with an open invitation to do just that. Helga shuddered with an unholy desire.
The General's two hundred and five pounds of firm, well-used muscle pushed down on top of her, slipping and sliding off, crushing her voluptuous white breasts. His throbbing brown cock still jerking from the delicious sucking she had given him, he positioned it between her hips like a freshly cut tree stump. Men and women crouched low around the slightly upraised stage to get a better look at the fucking. The General's men had heard stories about their superior's virility, and now he was showing them for the first time those stories were completely true. How could she possible take all that?
Everyone sucked in his breath as The General's purple-mushroom headed penis slipped easily into the girl's well lubricated, highly aroused cunt and shoved with an obscene, wet, slushing sound that smacked of sadism. They sighed in relief as her pink cuntal opening spread wide and her golden-hair-fringed pussy lips clutched involuntarily around the thick brown shaft as it sank out of sight like a sinking ship into her tautly rippling belly. Ahhh! She did it!
This is what they had been waiting for!
Couples, unwilling, but never-the-less highly-stimulated gringa prisoners, together with their Mexican prison-guard captors, snuggled together like lovers. The men boldly slid down the American girl's panties to their knees, forcing the subjugated young females to reach delicate white fingers into gaping zipper holes to fondle thickening brown cocks as they watched the defilement of the blonde Gringa.
The General and his prisoner began to move in savage harmony against each other. The General's bulging biceps rippled as he held the slippery naked white girl beneath him and fucked in and out of her wetly clasping pink cunt with a brutal force. His dark balls slapped wetly against her oiled white buttocks and Helga's tight little pink pussy, ravaged-but-fulfilled, rolled inward with each of his vicious, stabbing thrusts. Each time he pulled out to the blackened tip of his lust swollen cock head, the girl's delicate, coral cuntal lips clung to the dark thick shaft like a rubber glove reluctantly pulled from a surgeon's hand.
The General fought to hold onto her slippery white body while the hands of a dozen military men reached out to grab a pale white leg, a cream-white breast, or a delicate tuft of pubic curls of their respective gringa partners.
And meanwhile... Helga was fucking the Mexican General back to save her life! Her hips gyrated and pumped as if on ball bearings and she bucked and undulated with a total disregard for her dignity or chaste, Christian upbringing. Who was fucking who was only a guess. Her mouth gaped open like a beached fish and deep animal moans of pure wanton pleasure rumbled from her throat as her head thrashed from side to side, whipping her blonde hair about her sweating red face. When she did open her eyes, they were glassed over and a distant, unfocused, uncaring look lingered there.
The heat in the room was stifling and uniforms and dresses were shed like leaves in autumn. Their faces streamed with sweat, and their eyes narrowed to slits as they watched the most unbelievable fucking they had witnessed at The General's infamous Annual Military Balls. An orgy was but a few strokes away.
"Roll over now, Se�orita!" It was Manuel, impatient for revenge.
Helga, lost in her wild lust, her slim waist bucking as her plump, pale hips rolled and humped up to take all of The General's hard brown cock, didn't even hear him.
"General I have an idea. Roll the Se�orita over."
They managed to roll her over, while The General continued punching into her tender pink cunt as if trying to bludgeon her to death. They rolled completely over until Helga was fully on top of his hirsute body. It was a relief having his heavy weight off of her, for she could breathe more easily now and she did just that, taking a few deep lungfuls and resting for a moment, concentrating on the hotly throbbing cock buried deep in her velvety cunt. Then she leaned down, taking some of the weight with her arms and allowing the red nipples of her oiled, ripely swaying white breasts to brush back and forth over his dark, hairy chest.
The General looked into the face of his broken and helplessly lost American prisoner and smirked lecherously. He ground his teeth with frenzied lust.
Helga deliberately pleasured him by clenching and unclenching her brutalized cuntal muscles, submissively squeezing his conquering brown cock, milking it to give her captor added enjoyment as he abused her oily passage. Then slowly, she tightened her meaty white buttocks and rocked back and forth over him, wringing groans from his rumbling chest.
The audience stared fixedly at the gringa prisoner's oil-glistening white buttocks only a scant reach away, shining like two pale full moons in May.
Suddenly all eyes were on the narcotics officer from Nuevo Laredo now crouching by the writhing couple, a cruel, depraved look in his dark moody eyes as he held in his pumping hand his angrily throbbing neglected black cock. Would the General's underling be so audacious as to preempt The General's fucking of this luscious Gringa? Everyone waited to see.
One panting red-haired female prisoner in the audience, half naked in the darkness with a Lieutenant lewdly fondling her quivering white-freckled breasts, moaned; "Ohhh, no!" She was the first to realize Manuel's intentions.
Helga was slowly spreading her oil-sheened thighs wider until she had to bend her knees to ward off cramps. She paused, a moment of depraved ecstasy as she exposed her nakedly rounded white buttocks to a room full of strangers. Murmurs-low, lewd, intent- were heard around the room, most in Spanish. "Look at that... look at that juicy pink cunt! The little white whore! She looks like she's ready to explode!"
Helga was. All eyes were glued to Helga's naked ass-cheeks as they slowly spread apart, revealing the tightly puckered entrance to her anus buried deeply and snugly in the fleshy crevice between her cream-white ass-cheeks. Her alabaster buttocks undulated and rolled tantalizingly as they moved up and down, pumping over The General's pole-like brown cock, now covered with slippery sheen of cunt-oil and buried deep up in Helga's gorgeous Anglo belly. Everyone could see how his lust-thickened hardness spread the parting lips of her little pink pussy so wide they almost folded back on themselves, reveling inside the coral-pink softness of her naked pussy.
The hapless farmer's daughter from North Dakota, completely subjugated by now to her Mexican captor's dominance, deliberately used her cuntal muscles to grip more of his brown cock. Her knees slithered slowly forward until they hugged the General's hairy armpits and her plump and quivering white ass cheeks rode high in the air, her buttoned pink anus winking invitingly at Manuel as she ground her cunt fiercely down on the stalk growing from the black hairy forest of The General's loins.
Manuel fell to his knees on all fours, slipping between the hairy widespread legs of his superior and the sleek paler ones of his prisoner until he was crouched over her upturned, oiled white ass.
Helga's sweat-soaked young body moved as if run on batteries; her full mouth hung open lewdly, her eyes were glazed with lust. It wasn't until she felt the hotly probing head of Manuel's cock pressing forcefully against her tender anus that she became aware that his threat was only one stroke away from reality.
Faces, wan with disbelief and anticipation, watched mesmerically, stunned by the audacity of the officer from Laredo. How would The General respond to this man sharing his pleasure?
Everyone sucked in his breath as Manuel held his thick jerking dark cock in one hand, guiding it to where it nudged against Helga's tightly clenched little pink anus. Helga's eyes sprang open as if on springs when she realized what was about to happen! She froze in her obscene humping position, too frightened to move away now for fear of displeasing The General who was grunting underneath her, reaching up to pinch at her puckered red nipples. She panicked. Her blonde head snapped around and her wide blue eyes starred blankly at the dark figures hovering up close to the stage. She tried to move but both men held her securely in place, their hard hands slipping slowly over her glistening white flesh. "Nooooooooooo! Ooooh! Oh! Nooooooooo!" It was a long lost wail that bubbled in her throat. The look in her fearful blue eyes was desperate. She was helpless... a poor American prisoner sandwiched in between two lustful, vengeful Mexican men and there was nothing she could do about it but hope to God they didn't kill her!
The silence in the suddenly-stilled room frightened her even more. The crowd watched, silently fondling and pawing at each other as Manuel used the thumb of his hand to spread her pale slippery ass cheeks apart.
The crowd's eyes fell on Helga who quivered with dread as Manuel's brown hands brutally wedged open her tightly clenched white buttocks, drawing them apart like a steaming Parker House roll. Tears suddenly rolled from her wide blue eyes and wet her blushing cheeks. The crowd hissed a gasp of anticipation as the Nuevo Laredo officer used his knobby brown middle finger to tease at her tiny rectal opening.
Every young American woman there knew it could just as easily be her up there being ravished and ripples of empathy charged through the female part of the audience... ineffectual though it was.
Sharply, Manuel rammed his oil-coated finger into her puckered anal hole, driving it to the first knobby knuckle joint. The plump round muscles of Helga's meaty white buttocks clenched automatically and her anal passage gripped defensively at his invading brown finger like a tiny, clenching fist. The pain was reflected in her twisted, tormented face and a low hoarse moan came from deep in her milky, bosomy chest.
"Pllllleeeez, noooo!"
Oh, Gawd, he wasn't kidding! He s really going to do it to me there... he's going to put it in my rectum! I'll die... I know I'll die!
Manuel's face was a study of sadism. As if in answer to her panic, he reamed and sawed in and out of the warm buttery depths of her rectum, ramming a second finger into her, causing the poor young American prisoner to groan dreadfully, her pretty, refined Anglo features twisted in pain and incredulity. Carelessly, he finger-fucked her like a madman, obscenely stretching the white girl's velvety nether passage in preparation for bigger things to follow. And that bigger thing was throbbing, dripping with pre-cum right now!
Helga closed her eyes and tried to be still, concentrating, trying not to think, only wishing this were over with. She could imagine seeing her ravaged, bleeding white body left on the stage once Manuel had finished with her. A woman couldn't live through such torture, could she?
Helga crouched on her stomach on top of the groaning General, her thighs spread wide, her knees tucked under. She was defenseless, impaled on the General's long hard brown cock that was throbbing like another heart deep in her cunt and she felt Manuel's thick worming fingers stabbing through her rectum. Tears scalded in her eyes and she found herself sobbing, like a baby, begging for mercy.
It did no good. Rather, her pleading and crying seemed only to make the situation worse. In the audience, relishing the ravishment of this luscious blonde prisoner, Major Jose Emanuel smirked and nibbled at the butt end of his cigar. Slowly, his fingers reached toward his forehead and traced the outline of the bandage covering his gash. The little gringa bitch deserves it! he thought sadistically. "Fuck her in the ass!" he screamed, standing up and breaking his own rules by causing a stir. He bellowed it again, this time waving his clenched fist in the air like a battle cry.
Manuel pulled his fingers from Helga's tight little anal button with a moist, sucking sound that reminded one of a champagne cork exploding. He aimed the lust bloated head of his aching brown cock directly at that cringing puckered hole and flexed his hips.
Again, with difficulty, his hands slipping in the smooth oil, he spread the squirming young woman's milky, meaty buttocks wide with his fingers, then slowly pressed the huge blackened head of his angrily pulsating penis directly at the cringing little mouth of her most secret part.
All eyes fell on Helga's pain-contorted face, saw her blue eyes gape as the brutally stiffened cock suddenly popped like a cock through her tightly resisting sphincter muscle.
"AAAGGGHHHAAA!!! GAAAWWWD!!!"
Every eye turned to her nakedly upraised buttocks as she froze, screaming. Every eye watched the grotesquely stretched hole give more, spreading, slipping like a tight glove over the probing tip of his thick, rampaging cock. Manuel grinned in triumph and thrust his hips heavily downward, burying half of the hardened fleshy pole into the soft velvety channel with one vicious thrust of his powerful hips.
Her groans choked back into her throat as, automatically, Helga fought for freedom from this agonizing assault, but her every move only served to impale her deeper because with each jerk and twist of her tortured body, Manuel's massive penis sunk that much deeper into her futilely resisting anal hole. Beneath her, the General grunted and rammed his penis into Helga's cunt until his cock smashed into her tender cervix, doing his sadistic best to pin her in place.
The room fell quiet as Manuel leaned over the defenselessly upthrust pale buttocks and fucked his bloated penis through the last remaining resistance... going deep up into her tight little rectum, right up to his sperm-bloated black balls.
They fell into a maniacal fury of fucking the blonde prisoner, buffeting her creamy body between them as if she were a sack of beans.
"AAAAGGGHAAA!"
The scream sluiced through the air, piercing the ears of every onlooker. Some of the more empathetic female prisoners in the crowd rose to their feet, wanting to help their sister in despair, but there was no stopping the sadistic men... and the threat of reprisal made them sink quickly back to their seats, only to feel the brown hands and dark fingers of their own Mexican partners lewdly invading their pink passages and fondling their milky breasts.
"OHHHH GOD!" Helga screamed piteously as she felt Manuel's hotly throbbing cock fucking deep up into her cunt from below, joining the other thick skewering penis stuck so deep in her rectum. She whimpered like a hurt puppy, both in the throb of pain and humiliation, sandwiched like a white whore between the hulkish Mexican men who treated her like the lowest common prostitute who'd ever walked the streets of Mexico.
Only that thin blood-fed membrane separated Manuel's plunging cock from the General's thundering one. Helga felt everything intensely as if looking through a magnifying glass. In and out they thrust in unison, pumping into her, punching into her hot belly and anus at the same time.
The scene in the hot darkened theatre was close to riotous. Couples were stripping naked. In the back, unseen by most, a muscular Mexican man sprawled naked in his seat while a young American prisoner crouched submissively between his dark legs and sucked his brown-skinned virility while he watched the blonde Gringa being fucked half to death on stage. Another American girl somewhere in the back hung over the edge of the chair, her alabaster buttocks waving in the air while her guard guided his thick fingers toward the hairy split of her pink cunt and played there. He held her by the hips as he slowly began fucking in and out of her seeping pussy, but his eyes were irrevocably focused on Helga on the stage, in the brightly lighted spot with the two sex-crazed officers.
Both Manuel and the General fell into a smooth rhythmic cadence that pounded the oil glistening body between them like the fists of an angry child punching a rag doll. Streams of cum-male and female spurt out onto the velvet covered chaises, drying in lewd puddles. More than one dress zipper was broken in a mad attempt to get the garment off and high-heeled shoes littered the floor like crumpled newspapers in a gutter. The sound of wet brown cocks ramming into wide-stretched pink genital openings like high powered drills slapped over the room and people sprawled on the floor as they watched the pink frayed edges of Helga's pussy flesh pulling out with the General's penis on the outstroke and disappeared back inside her cunt as he plunged again deep into her quivering little belly. But it was Manuel's thick cock pulling out of her backside, drawing the tight ridges of her tightly clenched anus with it, then wetly ramming back up into her until his cum-filled balls were wedged hard up into her softly yielding white buttocks, that everyone watched.
Something unexplainable happened to Helga. Perhaps it was the savage reality of being brutally fucked by two Mexican men at the same time that opened up the masochistic bent in her.
Couples stopped fucking and sucking to watch this miraculous transformation. A strange look came over the naked female prisoner's face and a low ecstatic moan trembled from her lips. Involuntarily, her oil gleaming buttocks began to undulate and from the pleased expressions on the men's faces, she obviously was clenching fist-like with her cuntal and anal muscles, milking them.
"Jesus Christ!" a man's heavily accented voice whispered. "She likes it!" These and other obscenities intensified the wild sensations charging through her belly. Winces of pain on her sweat-streaked young face were being replaced by rapturous moans. "Oh Gawd. Fuck it, fuck it... plleezz!" she grunted thickly to each thrust that bored into her anus and cunt. Indeed, the lurid words coming from one so innocent-looking and beautiful were doubly arousing. Everyone-including her fellow inmates-wanted to see this elegant white girl humiliated.
That included Jose Emanuel who, in the back of the room, zipped open his pants and drew out his aching cock. The gringa beetch theenks she is feelled now... huh? He charged to his feet, shedding his clothes as he went toward the stage. The room was going wild! Jose had to fight his way through the crowd of voyeurs cramped around the stage trying to get a better look at this incredible white woman. Hungry brown hands reached out to touch her oil slicked body, letting their hands dance over her pale breasts, her stomach, her navel... wherever they could touch her.
"Ahhhh! God, yes! I can feel your cocks fucking me! Splitting me open! Hurt meeee! Fuck me! FFFUUUCCCKKK MEEEE!" she coaxed them on.
They worked in unison, sweating and pounding into her body numbed to pain and open to pleasure.
Jose shoved aside a Lieutenant and jumped up on stage, his pants down to his knees, one shoe off. With a snarl, he ripped off the rest of his clothes and dropped to the side of Helga's thrashing head. He watched as the General fucked in and out of her cunt in a sadistic, punishing way and Manuel pumped his hips, slapping up against Helga's rectum. Helga was battered and jerked and pummeled and twitched about, her blonde head flying back and forth until her screams turned to moans and her mons to groans and, finally, to wild animal sounds of sheer delight as her body found the rhythm and she began moving in unison with their two men, building her lust and desire.
"That's it! Fuck the beetch!" Jose screamed in a queer falsetto as he yanked at his rock hard cock. He caught hold of Helga's thrashing head and held it viselike between his strong hands and, with his thumbs forced her parched lips open. Brutally, he guided his cock toward her lips and shoved the full nine inches into her mouth for her to suck on.
This was the final lewd thrill, the ultimate humiliation and debasement: Sucking the blood-bloated cock of her guard while the man who had arrested her and the one who determined whether she lived or died fucked into her brutally!
Jose began jerking his hips back and forth as Manuel and the General fucked and bucked, and Helga let her body ripple and undulate while she ovaled her lips and licked submissively at Jose's dripping penis, tasting the bittersweetness of his arousal. She sucked like a new vacuum cleaner, drawing the sperm from his testicles that beat against her chin, and she closed her glassy eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering over her cheekbones, flushed from her shameful arousal. She sucked hard as they beat into her from all directions.
The current created between the four pummeling bodies completed its circuit, and Jose was the first to scream his release. His body stiffened while he gritted his teeth and shot white-hot sperm into her mouth, bulging and hollowing her cheeks as she gulped and swallowed and sucked for more, her tongue twirling around the slitted end madly. When it deflated like a stuck balloon, she contented herself by licking the spattered cum from his hairy brown testicles.
The General was the next to cum, exploding his thick cum into her cunt with a wild roar that threatened to bring the roof down. Helga felt the tempo increase, and she was up in the heavens counting stars as her own searing sweet orgasm blinded her for a moment. She felt as though her insides were coming out when it hit and she let out a wild cry.
"Fuck meeee! Fuck my assss! Hurt meeee!"
Manuel was quick to comply. White hot pain coursed through the prisoner's rectum and mingled with her orgasm, making it wilder, sweeter, more intense and prolonged. It seemed as though she were falling through space, through an endless void of pleasure and pain as she saw Manuel's moustache twitch and heard his guttural animal yell. His cock swelled against the walls of her tender, ravished rectum and then began to pump hot oily cum into her, filling her up until it dribbled down between her tanned thighs.
A roar sounded in the room as everyone watched the blonde haired prisoner collapse and lose consciousness. Most unbelievable, Helga Anderson was still alive...
CHAPTER TWELVE
The price of freedom wore a heave price tag... a bill measured in human flesh and utter humiliation...
"How nice to see you, Se�orita," the General greeted with a salacious smirk as his two guards escorted Helga, freshly bathed and dressed to his liking in a short, simple cotton robe with a tie belt. The chair squeaked as he reached forward and undid the knot, letting the robe slip from her naked body. "Get to your knees..."
Helga quivered nakedly, shame and fear boiling in her blood. God, he was reducing her to a simple whore. "Mr. General... I... I..." she stammered, tremblingly.
The General lost patience with her hesitation. "On your knees white whore! You seem to forget who I am. I own you, Se�orita. I can kill you like that!" He snapped his fingers and grinned lopsidedly, nodding to his guards, they watched as victoriously, the tall blonde Gringa dropped submissively to her knees in supplication before him, her nose grazing past the heavy erection jutting from the wiry patch of his loins. He pumped his brown-skinned penis before her gaping blue eyes until a tiny pearl of pre-cum, no bigger than a tear, dribbled lewdly from the tip to pool on her pouting lips.
"Nooooo..." whimpered Helga, fraught with self-pity. "Oh God!"
The General entangled his brown fingers in her soft blonde hair and wrenched her head back, pressing his thumb under the soft tissue of her chin and wedging his pudgy index finger into her mouth. Helga let out a moan of pain and compliantly let her jaw relax. "Mmmmph!" He shoved his lust bloated cock between her swollen lips and sawed in and out.
"Suck, you little white bitch! Suck, you filthy white whore! From now on..." he grunted, flexing his hips so hard his cum-filled balls slapped against her dimpled chin. "...you will be my personal sex-mistress. When I want to fuck you in the ass, you will do so..."
"Mmmmffff... oh, noooo! But I'm not a whore...!" She whined and rocked on her haunches from his next punishing cock-stroke.
With Helga, already broken by this powerful man, reluctance was only a temporary condition. Knowing she could not resist him in any way, she began to pay him homage with her lips and tongue. Down on her knees, flooded with disgrace and shame, she kissed and licked at the tiny slit of his seeping penis to save her life and told herself she was letting him pinch and knead her tender white breasts for the same reason. Then, with his hot cum bulging out her cheeks and slithering down her hungry throat, she reached up to milk his hairy testicles and give them loving, caressing strokes. I've got to please him or he'll kill me... she told herself, ignoring his urging as he struggled to free his deflated cock from her still-nibbling mouth. Finally, he coaxed her to let go and with only a simple motion of his hand urging her over on her belly, she flipped submissively over on her stomach and raised her plump, pale buttocks in the air, reaching back with both hands to peel apart and separate the moist creamy clefts of her ass cheeks.
"Fuck me, my General..." she mewled. "Fuck me in the ass, my General. Make me cum!" Her cunt was a raging inferno of frustrated lust!
After several months, life became a never-ending nightmare of loveless lust, and blind obedience to her heartless captor, who relished humiliating his American slave. Helga became his sexual robot, his mechanical toy to wind up and abuse at his lustful whims...
She awoke one morning, studied her reflection in the mirror and read the signs of despair. To be stuck in the mountains with a madman acting out his sexual fantasies was worse than death.
Her father's wheat fields in North Dakota, raising their ripe heads to the August sun, rippling in tan seas as far as the eye could see... were they memories from a past life?
Loneliness fell in on her and in a desperate moment, she made herself sick by drinking three glasses of tap water, despite the strict health hazards warning printed in English above the sink.
They sent her to the Monterey hospital with a gut-wrenching case of amoebic poisoning.
In the hospital a particularly handsome young American doctor in residency took pity on her and helped smuggle her across the border... for a steep price.
The peso didn't buy much in those inflated times... even if she had them... so Helga Anderson paid him the way she knew best, with her young, nubile body.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Helga's pouty red lips clamped over the end of her Bic pen and she chewed unconsciously. The sophomore anthropology major sat in the darkened classroom, lit only the slides on the giant screen. Dr. Harris, a pre-Columbian art history professor, stood at the podium, staunch in her low-heeled pumps and Victorian bun.
"...Here we have an example of the tomb treasures of the Incas. These gold cups were hammered from a single piece of gold. If you look closely, you'll see no seams. When Pizarro returned to Spain, taking the pillaged treasures with him, they melted down the gold and..."
Helga cupped a yawn and tried to concentrate, knowing these facts would be thrown back at her in the final exam next week. She sighed, her shoulders heaving. What did Dr. Harris know about Mexico, really? What was important about a lost civilization and dwelling on useless objects and dead facts that had no relevancy to Helga's life and times? Helga rested her head in an upturned palm and studied her professor, the typical Ivory tower academic who lived in an unreal world of ideas and facts. I'll bet she's never been to bed with a man in her life. Expert on Mexico...? huh! Helga smirked. I could tell her a few things about Mexico... a few facts and figures she'd never forget!
