They told Jane to get out from under the table and allowed her to put the robe on. Mark stood and offered her a chair, and she sat down with them. At a signal, breakfast was served, and they all chatted. Jane was the center of the conversation, and each man told her how pleased he was with her....
Jane was happy, happier than she had been in a long, long time. People were talking to her, treating her like a human being, making her feel wanted. And she was out of that awful room! When Mark offered to take her for a stroll through the estate, she jumped up and took his arm with enthusiasm.
"What do you think?" Dr. Gorman asked as he and Guzman watched Jane and Mark walk through the gardens hand in hand.
"Excellent!" his employer replied. "Truly excellent! How long will it hold?"
"Oh, it could be permanent, if we had the proper time to finish the task. She may go into another regressive state, but we can even handle that, with time."
"Can she take an orgy?"
INTRODUCTION
Little Janie Horner By Leonard A. Lowag, Ph.D.
Man, that heterogeneous and esoteric creature differs from the other members of the animal kingdom in one primary way: he denies his natural being-his habits, his instincts and desires, his bodily functions, his thoughts and images. The more fortunate animals revel in the nature which was given them; to them it is all pleasure and all contentment, their prime achievement in life, their purpose for being. Not so with man. He takes his basic structure and proceeds to cover it with all manner of taboo, to inject it with superstition and fear, to hamper it with trappings of man-made glory and hypocrisy, to deny it the innate right to self pleasure and enjoyment through a thousand different rules. Born king of the animal realm, man has reduced himself to the least of his species. Why?
We turn to some of the sanctuaries with which he has found it necessary to surround himself. Among these we find the following: religion, dope, liquor, sex, money, war-in fact, anything which may act as a deterrent to reality, from realization of his true identity, from acceptance of truth. He is constantly in flight from what he knows to be his true status. Throughout life he flees from one bad state to another until he ends his miserable existence by giving up his life in this sphere. Why?
Basically man is ashamed of himself. He is ashamed that his body is so structured that he must eliminate his food in a manner which he feels is unclean. He is ashamed that his passions rise at an early age and he feels desire for the opposite sex. He is ashamed that he comes into this world from the cunnus of a woman, suckles at her breast and then returns to this curious being as a slave throughout his life. He is ashamed that his body reeks of unclean odors and is dirty. He is ashamed that his offspring are begot through passion and sex. He is ashamed that he will soon be dead and bearotting, lifeless nothing. He is ashamed that no matter how great his aspirations, he is limited by his span of life. So what does man do? He seeks to hide this fear and shame through mystical ritual, through words that no human being, including himself comprehends; through potions which place between himself and truth a layer of pretense, a covering beneath which he may revel without fear, for he is protected from reality. For these reasons man attends ceremonies and rites, drinks alcohol, takes dope of varying kinds, strives toward great wealth, kills his neighbor through war, and seeks annihilation because he cannot face truth.
Little Janie Horner is a story of a cross section of our society. It is not good; neither is it bad. It is truth. One reads with horror, with nausea, with fear. One is conditioned to escape. One is ashamed of himself. This story concerns the two extremes of our escapism: religion and debauchery-the two opposite ends of the spectrum, they are nontheless related in many ways. In primitive times, they were coalescent and interchangeable, but gradually, civilization has forced them apart.
In days of old, the gods demanded sacrifices; sacrifices of passion, of greed, of lust, of destruction, of murder. One paid these tokens because he was afraid to do otherwise. Then he felt vindicated. He had sacrificed. There were (and still are, remotely) times when man cooked and ate one of his kind so that the gods would be pleased. The representative of the gods took man's virgin daughters to sate his lust and man bowed his head in reverence. Young blood was spilled onto the ground to show humility and love and adoration for the unknown diety. Wars were fought in the name of Heaven; men were bumed in the holy fires to vindicate the sins of the earth; the bodies of the innocent and the unknowing were trampled into the ground-their blood has stained this earth since the world began. Man, the insane animal, the fearful animal, the animal who might have so much and yet who has so little. Man who spends his days with his head in a box, with his soul caged, with his eyes blinded, his ears closed, who has encased his being in a cocoon of fear and distrust and shame.
Who will dare to read this book? It is shocking. It is raw and crude. It will fill you with revulsion and terror. But it is filled with part of the truth from which you seek to escape. It is your chance to face a portion of reality. To admit the awful reality of your shame, without which man could know simple joy and live out his few brief years in peace. He could cast off fear of the known, albeit man's unconscious being will always fear the unknown-that which he knows not, which lies just beyond the threshold of knowledge; that of which he is aware and yet unaware, a feeling to haunt his being throughout his fife.
Little Janie Horner is not a pretty story, but it is set in a portion of the world whose beauty defies description; high in the mountains of Mexico in a little township called Cuemavaca, the capital of Morelos. Cortes captured this city from the Indians many years ago and built a palace which was at one time the home of Emperor Maximilian. Mexico itself is a mecca of beauty, a great rolling tableland bordered on each side by mountain ranges parallel to the coasts. From these heights the land descends in terraces which terminate in the coastal plains. The mountains which border the plateaus are perpetually snow-covered and the many torrential streams find their way to the sea through deep and precipitous troughs with beautiful cascades and waterfalls. Because of its geographical location on both sides of the Tropic of Cancer and its wide range of elevation, Mexico enjoys a variety of climate seldom equaled in other parts of the world. The land abounds in small lakes and is beset with lush tropical flora and fauna; the Spanish cedar, the cassia, palms of many species, the chicle tree; one may find wild figs, coffee, vanilla, oranges, bananas, mango, the papaw. Birds famed for their brillant plumage and wonderful variety cover the land. The population is composed of what is known as mestizos, those persons who are partly white and partly Indian, living in a culture composed of two social classes, the upper class enjoying wealth, power and comparative leisure, and the lower class, the Indian peons, who live in bondage and, generally great poverty. Mexico has developed a strongly individualistic culture as a result of the blending of Indian and Spanish traditions, and their architecture, literature, painting, music and handicrafts follow a strongly nationalistic trend.
Into this world of beauty and simplicity came lust and greed. Came those seeking a covering for their shame. Came those who had been the victims of their own conscience. Came Senor Guzman, one of the upper class who lived in luxury and splendor. Who lived in perverted degradation. This is the story of Jane Horner, that deluded virgin of the gods who traveled to the opposite end of the spectrum and strangely enough, after her experiences of odious horror, emerged a person of understanding and tranquility. Jane was filled with the vibrance of life; compassionate and gentle, yet daring. She dared to defy the gods that be and speak for an outraged world. Jane was an innocent child who had never tasted of life. She had only read of things and feelings and places. But she had courage to fly in the face of destiny. Beautiful, youthful Jane Horner headed the temperence league against marijuana. She fought with all of her being to right what she believed to be a wrong. And then she came face to face with reality. Those controlling forces in the underworld transplanted her to a new and different life, one of raw and base emotions, one in which cruelty exceeded kindness, one in which the individual is reduced to his most primitive being. Janie learned of life and its emotions through association with those who never bothered with the rules of living. Overnight she was transformed from one who walks the holy path to an inhabitant of the lowest den of iniquity. Her delicate sense of propriety is shattered as she is conditioned through the most sadistic of orgies to join the ranks of vice. This is a strange and beguiling story, one which will race your blood and tease you out of thought, but it is not one you will soon forget, nor the import of its message.
Little Janie Horner is a book about marijuana, that strange and enigmatic weed about which much and nothing is known. This is a story of those who oppose marijuana and those who control it. Much has been written of marijuana, obtained from the innocent cannabis sativa plant, but the effects of which may range from extreme elation to profound melancholy. Marijuana is not technically narcotic, being referred to as an hallucinogen, but it is treated as a narcotic by the law. This drug has been eaten and smoked in the far east under the name of hashish for centuries. The effects produced are much the same as those obtained from alcohol. Part of the reason for the spread of marijuana can be found in its relative cheapness as well as in the fact that it seems to have no permanent effect on the body and abstinence produces no withdrawal symptoms. The primary argument against marijuana is its creation of a faulty time sense and loss of judgment. Health officials in Washington estimate that twenty million Americans may have smoked it at least once and that anywhere from 300,000 to 4.5 million persons smoke it regularly (Newsweek, 7/24/67). It is generally conceded that marijuana attacks the central nervous system; coordination is very much altered, distance is distorted. The individual appears to lose his inhibitions in varying degrees. Dr. Donald B. Louria, associate porfessor of the Medical College at Cornell University and President of the New York State Council on Drug Addiction, recently wrote:
"The arguments for legalization of marijuana are based on pure hedonism. Its proponents want the right to use the drug because it gives them pleasure. Faced with the data on the potential dangers of its unrestricted use, they rely on the argument that marijuana is no more dangerous than alcohol. But the major criterion for legalization of any drug should not be a comparison with the dangers of alcohol but rather the inherent dangers in the drug's indiscriminate use. Otherwise, there would be a proliferation of drugs dispensed merely for pleasure, and if each of these carried no more risks than presented by alcohol-and by cigarettes-the number of persons damaged would inevitably increase strikingly."
And so the argument goes. It must be remembered that during prohibition the temperence groups received both encouragement and heavy financial support from gangsters who were making substantial fortunes from the sale of illegal liquor. As a matter-of-fact, it is estimated that the various criminal organization spent in excess of twenty-five million dollars to fight repeal of the Volstead Act. In certain dry areas of the United States today, criminal groups financially back political candidates only after they have received promises that the area will remain dry once the candidate is elected. Thus it is that the "devil" always helps the "saints" to insure his own profits. Little Janie Horner focuses our attention on this very same activity in the highly controversial world of marijuana trade. The author gives a candid view of the battle to keep marijuana illegal and profitable for the "organization." By bringing such activities out into the open, we as a society may be better able to control these disrupting forces. This book will unoubtedly serve its purpose, to shock the public out of its apathetic state and force them to recognize the cunning plots which appear so noble, yet tear into the very fibers of our society.
Despite its exaggerated erotic content, the book is well written and the young author shows much literary promise. One is granted a graphic description of the characters. With infinite horror, he sees the crippled, crab-like Paco, that sadistic devotee of the flesh, whose lust for the ravishing of the gentry knows no bounds. His twisted mind matches that of his twisted body as he lies in wait behind the mirrored door for his opportunity to strike. Senor Guzman, one sees resuscitated from the printed page, as he dominates his fanatical set-up, a misguided genius, a modern Satan who will stop at nothing to achieve his objective. Dr. Gorman, the psychiatrist, who has taken Krafft-Ebing's teachings too literally. Mark Wilson, a disillusioned anti-hero who is caught in the web of human escapism. Consuela, the beautiful Spanish girl, who has become a willing slave in this perverted world. If the reader has often masochistically longed to look behind the veil which separates the supposedly good from the presumed bad; if he unconsciously desires to see the extent of the perversion, the depth of the sordid world which changes men into monsters and destroys the soul, then his eyes will be opened as he devours each and every page, filled with the indescribable world of the lust-driven, of the hungry homosexual, of those who thirst after all that is bizarre and squalid. Come to Cuemavaca to the lair of Senor Guzman. Come to the game room where virgins are deflowered and morality is a word out of the dictionary; where men's destinies are planned and destruction is a part of the architecture. The story I shall leave for your discovery. It is one of strange and unusual happenings, of truth and lies, of forces which often carry us to destruction and of those which seldom rescue us from our fate. Suffice it to say that this is the tale of a young girl who had devoted her life to reformation who is captured and brought into a world of lust and greed, and how this being survived and triumphed over this shocking experience.
As I read Little Janie Horner, I was reminded of a little story I once heard in the Otomi village of Huixquilucan, Mexico. It concerns a long-existing feud between two of its barrios because of the saints of their respective churches. The story goes that in the church of the barrio of San Juan stands a little Virgin de la Candelaria. She wears a long simple pink dress, a white veil, and a crown. Her adornments are several strings of colored beads around the neck and silver earrings like those worn by the native women. In one hand is a doll infant and in the other a bouquet of paper flowers tied with a ribbon. Within the church of the barrio of San Martin is a small man-sized image of St. Martin on horseback. He is elegantly dressed in a chamois riding suit with a bullet belt and pistol, silver spurs, a cloth cape, and a handsomely embroidered charro sombrero. The people of the barrio adore him. Every year they give him a splendid new hat and a new suit. But they feel that even with his fine clothes he must be lonely, so they have invented a little love affair for him. It is common gossip that every night, St. Martin rides over to the church of San Juan, and while his horse remains outside, he visits with the little Virgin. The people of the barrio of San Juan also love their little Virgin and resent any aspersions against her reputation. They indignantly deny that their Virgin would receive a man in the night, even though he were a saint. Consequently, on Tuesday, el octavo del carnaval, the last event, late in the afternoon, is the battle between the two barrios, with friends of each side helping and the rest of the inhabitants looking on. By that time spirits are high on both sides from the pulque made in the village, and results are often so serious that the village police are generally on hand. The combatants are requested to put up barriers of boards about thrity feet high, leaving a short space between the barriers. Both sides use as missiles various kinds of firecrackers, bad eggs, egg shells filled with paint, and in the end, sticks and stones. During the battle, someone will come to the barrier and dance a doll on a stick to ridicule the Virgin. Then those of San Juan become infuriated and retaliate by holding up a male doll on a little mule, yelling, "Here's your San Martin." Both dolls are blown to pieces with fireworks. The insults become offensive and spicy and the battle goes on for hours until the authorities force both sides to retire. It is never known which side wins because both claim victory. But there are always some wounded, and sometimes corpses to prove that the fight was a good one. See if you can determine which side in our story belongs to San Juan and the Virgin de la Candelaria and which group belongs to San Martin on his horse. It shouldn't be too hard for you to fit the pieces of this puzzle into place. Comprende?
-Leonard A. Lowag, Ph.D.
CHAPTER ONE
It wasn't much of an orgy, as orgies go. Just three young, sixteen-year-old girls and two rather flabby men in the forties. The girls cavorted like young fillies in a spring meadow, running with springing steps on top of the twelve-foot circular bed in the center of the room. In a language strange to the girls' ears, the men commanded them to do this and that, and the girls complied willingly if not eagerly.
Paco Morales watched them. He sat in the large, comfortable, green velvet chair concealed from view in the small room behind the floor-to-ceiling, wall-length mirror. From where he sat, Paco could see everything that took place in the large room. Only a select few-Senor Guzman, Consuela Garcia, Paco and a few very close friends-knew about the secret room. Paco was there because it was his job to be there. Senor Guzman had trained him to operate the motion picture projectors, the electrical hoists and the special lighting controls. Once he had mastered the complicated controls, Paco was placed in charge of what his employer called the "Game Room."
Paco liked his job. He enjoyed seeing people fuck. He liked to do some of the fucking himself, but that happened only on very special occasions. Most of all, Paco liked being where no one could see him. Grotesque, ugly, misshapen, a beast-were all terms that had been used to describe Paco. Women shuddered when they saw him, and even men could not look at him long without averting their eyes.
He had not always been like this. It was just since the accident, since that bus had come around the curve in the middle of the road and caught its bumper on the wheel of his motorcycle. The branch of the tree stripped his face to shreds as Paco flew through the air. He landed on a bed of rocks. A second later, what was left of the motorcycle fell on top of him, crushing his legs and shattering his rib cage. The men at the hospital worked rniracles, pumping blood into his almost lifeless body and patching up the rest of him as best they could. One leg was three inches shorter than the other, his body was covered with ugly, purple scars, and his face looked like a patchwork quilt of grafted skin, but Paco lived.
The only part of his body that had come through the accident unharmed was Paco's magnificent cock. He smiled to himself when he remembered that gringo bitch and the expression on her face when she measured his fully erect cock that afternoon a few months ago. "Twelve inches long and five inches in girth!" she exclaimed. Paco's tongue wet his lips as he remembered how she had tried to get away from him. He had taken great pleasure in tying her hands to the bars and sinking his throbbing cock deep into her gringo belly. Tears streamed down her face as he plunged in and out, and that excited Paco all the more. Yes, he mused, that was one hell of an afternoon!
Paco's arm ached. He rubbed it to ease the pain. Since the accident he couldn't straighten his left arm completely. The bones had not set properly and the arm was permanently bent at the elbow. It always ached like this in the evenings, and he tried to rest it as much as he could. Paco was certain it had something to do with the climate. He hated Cuernavaca. It was always warm, and that made Paco sweat. Water, in any form, was disagreeable to him. That was why he seldom bathed. Water scared him. When he was a child he fell into a tank and almost drowned. He could still remember gasping for air.
He'd be in Toluca right now, if he could. It was never hot there, and the high, dry climate made him feel better. But Paco had no choice. Nobody would hire him the way he was. Maybe a circus, but Paco was sensitive about the way he looked. He didn't want people paying to see him as a freak, pointing at him with their dirty fingers and encouraging then filthy children to laugh at him.
In addition to his magnificent cock, Paco had one other valuable asset, his unquestioning loyalty to Senor Guzman. It was Senor Guzman who paid all the hospital bills and brought Paco to Cuernavaca and had given him something to do. All the men who worked for him loved Senor Guzman. Paco would die for his employer. He almost had. It was Senor Guzman's motorcycle Paco was riding when the bus hit him. He was on his way to Matamoros with sealed instructions and pay-off money for the men there. But that was long ago-eight years this month.
Paco reached out with his right hand and turned the volume control on the panel. "I want to fuck this one like a dog. I wonder how in the hell you say that in Spanish?" boomed the voice of one of the men in the room. With a flick of his wrist, Paco cut the volume back. He leaned over and spat on the floor. "Mother of God," he mumbled, "how I hate these miserable fucking gringos!"
He looked at their weak, pink bodies and their tiny, thin pricks and spat again. They couldn't satisfy a flea with those miserable pricks of theirs, he thought. Their bellies shook like goatskins half filled with wine. The fat one, whose belly hung down over his little prick so you could hardly see it, was Dr. Carl Gorman. Senor Guzman had introduced him to Paco the day before and announced that he was joining the staff. Paco couldn't pronounce what Gorman was. Anyway, he wasn't a real doctor. Senor Guzman had explained that. This one did something to people's heads. Shrunk them, Senor Guzman had said. Paco couldn't see how you could shrink a head, but it was none of his business anyway. He would put up with the pink bastard because Senor Guzman wanted it that way.
Paco didn't know the other man. He was someone from Washington who had to be "entertained," and Paco knew they had many like this visit the Game Room. Paco didn't care. He did what he was told, and that was all that was important to him.
His eyes slowly swept the large room, taking in the expanse of red velvet that covered the walls and the white silk that hung in folds from the ceiling to give the Game Room the atmosphere of a Sheik's tent. The floor was covered with a three-inch thick carpet of silver fur. Several times, when no one was there, Paco had quietly gone to the Game Room and walked barefoot through that fur. It was so soft, so luxurious! Along one wall were twelve chairs covered in black velvet to match the two long couches along the other walls which were draped with spreads made of black fur.
The circular bed commanded the room. It looked like a giant ottoman and was covered in soft, pure white fur. From experience Paco knew that the round bed caught most of the action in the room. The couches were only used when it was a large orgy, or for whippings. Senor Guzman said it was too expensive to let girls bleed on the white fur, and some of them did bleed!
The pleasant feeling the room gave him left Paco when he fixed his eyes on the twisting bodies on the round bed. The contrast between the soft-toned olive skin of the two girls and the pink, scrubbed look of the men disgusted Paco, causing him to spit at the floor again. A vague excitement growing in his loins, Paco's eyes were riveted to the scene in front of him.
Carl Gorman had one of the young girls in a kneeling position near the edge of the bed. Her face and breasts were pressed against the white fur of the bed and her ass was held high in the air. Paco watched Gorman sink his finger deep into the girl's cunt and then withdraw it. He raised his hand a fraction of an inch and then sunk the same finger deep into her ass. "Aargh!" the girl moaned at the intrusion into her tight canal. Gorman repeated the action three times, the girl registering pain on each intrusion.
Then, holding his prick in his hand, he moved his body against her and sunk his throbbing piece as deeply as he could in her ass. The girl's raven black hair was spread wildly across the white fur as she shook her head from side to side. "Aargh!" she screamed as Carl Gorman ran his dry cock in and out of her tight little asshole, his balls bouncing against the cheeks of her ass. The girl beat her fists on the bed and tears streamed down her face and splashed on the fur.
Paco watched as Gorman's cock turned from its natural, sickening-pink, color to a light brown. The stirring in Paco's loins had now become a demand and he reached down and took his gigantic cock in his hand. That dirty gringo prick, he thought, I'd like to bend him over like he has her! I'd shove this monster up his ass and split him apart! That little hole of his would tear all the way up his back. Paco began drawing the skin up and down on his cock, dreaming of ramming it up Gorman's ass. He could see it, all brown and covered with blood when he pulled it out. Then he'd push the dirty gringo to his knees and make him lick it clean, asking him how he liked the taste of his own shit!
Paco's hand moved faster as his excitement grew. Tiny beads of moisture appeared around the ridges of his cock, and he could smell his sex. It was a rancid, strong, almost overpowering smell, and Paco liked it. Senor Guzman made him spray himself with cologne every day, but this was Paco's favorite perfume-the smell of sex.
Carl Gorman went into a frenzied motion, his knees bucking against the edge of the bed as his cock flew in and out of the girl's asshole. Paco watched the girl pull her Hp between her teeth as her head flew from side to side. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the fur of the bed.
"I'm cummin'!" Gorman shouted, pounding against the girl with every muscle in his body. He suddenly stopped and held his body against hers rigidly as he pumped his come up into her belly. Slowly his muscles relaxed and he withdrew.
The girl remained as she was. Paco saw the milky white flow mixed with droplets of blood ooze from her tortured asshole and drip down her legs. Her body shuddered and she slowly backed off the bed and walked to the door leading to the large, tile covered bathroom at the end of the room. Gorman, a sadistic but satisfied look on his face, walked over to the silver bowl on the marble table at the entrance and selected a long, thin, marijuana cigarette.
Paco, his cock throbbing in his hand so that he could feel his heart beating like the rapid pounding of a kettle drum, let his eyes drift to the other couple. The girl was on her back, her soft olive skin warm and inviting against the white fur. She had her knees up in the air and the gringo was between her legs, his hands holding them apart while his tongue explored the paradise of her downy cunt. Paco could see his tongue circling the lips of her vagina, and his own tongue wet his lips thinking about the delicious taste of a young cunt. It was always salty, mixed with just a touch of sweetness like honey. Paco loved to sink his tongue deep into a cunt, tasting those bittersweet liquids girls use to cleanse themselves. God how he needed a cunt to lick! It had been so long! Senor Guzman only used Paco when he wanted a special type of show, or when he wanted to punish some girl with Paco's mighty cock. It had been almost two months now. He had to have some-soon!
Paco could taste that cunt as he watched the gringo's tongue flick back and forth over the tiny clitoris. "Ooh!" the girl moaned as the gringo's tongue slipped past the silky hair and through the puffed lips into the wet entrance to her belly.
The man turned around so that he was kneeling over the girl's face. With a quick movement of his hips he plunged his cock into her waiting mouth. Paco watched the thin, pink prick slide into the girl's waiting mouth until it was sunk down deep in her throat, the hair at the base of it resting on her ruby red lips and the small sack with the pulsing balls bouncing up and down on her nose. The man's head buried itself in the soft folds of her thighs, his tongue darting deep into her cunt.
The girl's hand crept up the cheeks of the man's ass, her finger searching for and finding his asshole. With one quick movement she buried her finger to the hilt in his ass, finger-fucking him as her mouth enveloped his swollen cock. Their bodies began a slight rocking motion, increasing in tempo as they climbed the ladder of divine sensation.
Paco imagined himself on top of the girl, choking her with his huge cock and licking her cunt until it was completely dry. With his hand, Paco matched their tempo, the head of his cock turning a bright red as he approached climax. He saw the man spread the lips of the girl's cunt with his fingers and jab his tongue as far as he could up her. With a quick jerk the girl arched her body, drawing the man's tongue even deeper inside her. Her feet flew into the air and began trembling.
Paco had timed himself to come at the precise moment the girl did, white liquid spurting from his enraged cock and making little puddles on the floor. The man was coming now, too, pumping his hot liquid down the girl's throat. He pulled his head from between the girl's legs, his face covered with her moist come, and gasped for breath, the girl's thick come dripping from his nose into his mouth.
Paco arranged himself, sliding his limp member back into his pants. He stood up and moved to the control board. He was certain the men were through now, and he'd have to be ready to unlock the electrically sealed door when they wanted to leave. Once again he turned the volume control, this time listening to their conversation. The girls were both now in the bathroom repairing themselves from the ravages of the two men.
"Here, John, light up a stick," Carl Gorman said, offering the silver bowl to the other man. "It'll relax you and help you savor what you've just had."
"No thanks, I've never tried pot."
"You'd better. That's our business, you know. Senor Guzman likes to see his guests use his product. Besides, John, it's perfectly harmless. Come on, you'll enjoy a little trip, especially after a fucking like that!"
Paco looked at them with disgust. He gave the volume control a vicious twist and cut them off. Shit, he thought to himself, they'll be there another hour now! He watched the other man take one of the thin cigarettes and accept a light from Dr. Gorman, both men smiling at some secret joke.
"Mother of God," Paco muttered to himself as he flopped back down in the large chair, "I hope my day comes soon!"
No, it wasn't much of an orgy, as orgies go, but it added fuel to a fire that had been raging in Paco's loins for some time. A fire someone would pay dearly to put out.
CHAPTER TWO
Applause rang through the auditorium and people sprang to their feet to give Jane Horner a standing ovation. Her speech, pitched between intellect and emotion, had stirred them. Their enthusiasm engulfed her like a warm, comfortable cloud and Jane's face broke into a radiant smile. This was one of the rewards for hard work, she told herself. When you took an apathetic public and moved them one tiny fraction of an inch, you really accomplished something!
She blew them kisses as they continued to clap. Moving across the auditorium, Jane's eyes caught the two American flags and the red, white, and blue banner, "PUT DOWN POT! BRING OUR YOUTH BACK TO MORALITY!" A warm feeling spread through her body. Yes, this made the back-breaking schedule, the countless hours on planes, those vicious attacks on her by certain elements of society and all the hard work worthwhile.
Her knees felt suddenly weak and Jane put her hands up to stop the applause. She sat down while Reverend Morton stood to close the meeting with a prayer. Her head bent, Jane stared into the untouched plate of food in front of her. Twelve peas, one scoop of cold mashed potatoes, and a scrawny half-chicken, undercooked and tasteless. The caterers always charged high prices and delivered food no one would touch. Do they count the peas, she wondered? At lunch in Des Moines there had been eleven peas. Tonight there were twelve. And that poor scrawny bird! They must have searched long and hard to find him, she thought bitterly.
Jane caught herself in mid-thought. Why this wasn't like her at all! For Jane, life had always been a miracle, a great joy, something to savor and look forward to the next exciting moment. There were so many unhappy people in the world, living absolutely miserable lives and starving to death! One should take joy in life and shout thanks to the Creator for making it such a marvelous experience! Jane knew what misery and loneliness were, and she knew that only the individual could overcome these mortal enemies of man. It took guts and determination though, and Jane lived in a fear that she would never be able to explain this to others.
At twenty-three, Jane Horner was something of a sensation. Time and Newsweek had written her up in the last few months, and Life had scheduled an interview with her this fall. She'd appeared on several of the network TV shows, and her fan mail had now reached over a thousand letters a week. Yet Jane Horner had begun life alone, with no relatives to help and guide her. The product of an illicit love affair, Jane had been left on the steps of an orphanage.
With a fierce will and a pragmatic belief in what was right and wrong, Jane had overcome her doubtful beginning. When she entered high school and found the other children smoking marijuana, taking dope and engaging in immoral sex acts together, Jane found her cause. She began studying all she could find on marijuana, encouraged others to join her in her crusade and organized secret groups who would report offenders to the police. The school authorities asked her to lecture the student body on the evils of marijuana, and that lecture launched Jane's career.
Committees were formed all over the Midwest and speaking invitations followed Jane wherever she traveled. Contributions poured in from the nation's Bible Belt, and before long Jane Horner headed a financially strong and powerful organization dedicated to alerting the public to the dangers of marijuana and calling on them to help stamp this dread scourge from the land.
Jane knew that her physical attributes were a great asset to her cause. People were always surprised to find a beautiful young girl at the head of such an organization, and the press gave her face and figure added attention in the nation's newspapers. Jane's petite body was rounded with curves that on anyone else would have been considered voluptuous, but her beautiful face with the small dimples that dotted her smile framed with golden blonde hair that cascaded in soft willowy curls to her shoulder made Jane look like the fresh apple pie version of the All American Girl. Her true beauty was something you caught after you studied her for a moment. Pale blue eyes that sparkled against her creamy white complexion gave her a virginal look other girls envied.
Jane Horner is a virgin-emphatically so! Morality is more than a word to Jane, it's a code, a belief, a precious human attribute to be guarded with one's very life if necessary! Many ardent swains had found that Jane took morality seriously. Even Peter....
A warm, pleasant feeling flowed through Jane as she thought of Peter Reskin. She knew that she had at last found the perfect man, and she was certain he would ask her to marry him soon. She hoped it would be soon! She felt so guilty about the things she did to herself with her finger in bed alone after a date with Peter. Even if it was wicked, Jane just couldn't help herself. Peter aroused things in her she never knew existed. That demanding itch between her legs frightened her. It was something she didn't understand, something she didn't know how to cope with, and something that was becoming more urgent as each day passed.
"Amen," the crowd said in unison. Chairs shuffled and people stood up, gathering in tight little knots to talk for a moment before they left. The local dignitaries came forward to shake Jane's hand and congratulate her on an inspiring speech. She stood and took each hand offered, muttering an automatic "thank you."
But Jane's mind was wrestling with a more pressing problem. Here she was, at the pinacle of her career with thousands of people depending on her. She had lovely clothes, a modest but attractive apartment and a substantial savings account. Her work was truly a joy for her, and she had more friends than most people made in a lifetime. Yet Jane Horner was unhappy.
For the past several months she had awakened almost every night near midnight, tears running from her eyes, sweat pouring from her forehead and a deep sobbing coursing through her body. Several times she had screamed, an unknown terror gripping her entire body. This was the first time Jane had ever experienced nightmares, and she was at a loss to understand what brought these black clouds crashing down upon her in her sleep.
And in the last several weeks there were the dizzy spells. She could be standing talking to someone when she would suddenly feel dizzy. Once she would have fallen to the floor if a man hadn't caught her. At first the spells had gone away almost immediately, but now they were lasting for as long as ten minutes. She would sit with her head swirling through a stark white void, using every ounce of her will to gain control of herself.
Her enthusiasm and bounce, which a few short months ago were spontaneous, now had to be forced. Jane Horner was tired-very tired.
Worse than all that, Jane, for the first time in her life, had doubts. Just last week she was testifying in juvenile court against a fifteen-year-old pusher. She'd done this a dozen times before, knowing that she was serving a moral society by helping weed out the bad apples. But this time she doubted. It was just for a moment, the moment she looked into those young eyes staring at her, but it shot through her like a knife plunged into her breast. She'd only hesitated for a moment, but her moment of weakness appalled her.
Doctor Bill had told her last week that she had to slow down, that she was pushing herself at a breakneck pace that would kill her. He said she was exhausted, and Jane was beginning to think he was right.
It happened that same night.
Jane had to run to catch her plane back to Omaha. When she arrived, she took a cab to her apartment house. Jane paid the driver, pulled her heavy brief case from the back seat and started up the steps to the front door. The taxi driver was about to pull away when he saw Jane's body stiffen for a moment and then collapse on the third step. The brief case fell from her hand, the catch opening and spewing its contents on the sidewalk. He jumped out of the cab and ran to her inert body. Relieved that her pulse was all right, the driver picked her up to carry her inside. His hand cupped her breast and he was surprised by the feel of the firm, full globe hidden beneath her conservative dress. I'll bet she's a great piece of ass, he thought to himself as he carried her up the stairs. Jane was oblivious to the several squeezes he gave her breast, but he smiled as he noted that the nipple became erect and taut under the pressures of his fingers.
Things were blurred and the room was spinning as she regained consciousness. Everything was vaguely familiar, but Jane had no idea where she was. For a moment she thought the black terror had crashed in on her again, but then she saw that she was still in street clothes. Someone was standing beside her. Who was it? She could make out the outline, but everything was still too blurred.
"Jane, are you all right?"
"Oh, thank God you're here, Doctor Bill! Where am I?"
"In your own room. How do you feel?"
"I'm not sure. Dizzy. And my head hurts. What happened?"
"You fainted on the sidewalk in front of the building. The taxi driver carried you up here and Mildred Thatcher down the hall called me. It's a good thing I live at the Broadmore around the corner."
He took her wrist in his gentle hand and counted her pulse. Satisfied, he shook a thermometer to bring the mercury down and put it in her mouth.
The strong smell of alcohol drifted to Jane's nose and caused her nostrils to flare momentarily.
"Doctor Bill, what's wrong with me lately?"
"Don't talk. Give me a chance to find out. Offhand, though, I'd say it's a plain and simple case of physical and emotional exhaustion. Last week I warned you this would happen, but you refused to listen to me."
He took a hypodermic syringe from his bag and pierced the rubber cap on a small vial, drawing a clear liquid into the glass cylinder.
"I'm going to give you a strong sedative, something that will knock you out and give you some much needed rest."
He took her arm gently in his hand, lanced the skin with the sharp needle and slowly forced the sedative into her system. Then he took the thermometer from her mouth, read it, nodded to himself and replaced it in the black plastic container. Snapping his bag shut, he sat on the edge of the bed.
"Jane, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, I have to insist that you slow down. Unless I miss my guess, there's not a thing wrong with you that a few weeks of complete rest and relaxation won't cure. You've been pushing yourself too hard trying to carry a load that would kill two weaker people. You're only twenty-three, but you're worn out! If you keep this pace up, you may never see your twenty-fourth birthday-and I'm not kidding you one bit!
"Nobody can keep up the pace you've set. Your mind and your body are rebelling. They're warning you that they can't go on like this."
Jane looked up into the kindly face, his soft gray eyes conveying a meaning to her. Here is someone who truly cares about me, she thought, as a blissful relaxation flowed through her veins. And he's right, I can't go on like this. He has known me from my days in the orphanage, and he certainly knows the limits of my body. She opened her eyes briefly as his voice cut through the mist surrounding her.
"I've told Mildred to cancel all of your speaking engagements for the next thirty days. Reverend James can fill in for you on most of them, and the cause won't suffer.
"I'm having your phone disconnected for the next couple of weeks, and I don't want you leaving the apartment. I'll be by every day, and we'll see if we can't build you back up."
"You won't have any trouble from me, Doctor Bill. Tonight has made a believer out of me!"
Jane heard the latch on the front door snap as she sunk into a soft, billowy pink cloud, the world far behind her.
The change was almost immediate. She remained in bed for the first three days, drifting in and out of an euphoric state of complete relaxation. On the fourth day she got up, took a very hot and completely relaxing bath, and stood before the full-length mirror rubbing the soft towel over her skin. She looked at her proud breasts with the strawberry nipples that crested her snowy white skin.
Jane was proud of her breasts, but she always concealed them under loose-fitting, conservative garments, afraid that she would somehow cause men to lust after her.
The V where her creamy white thighs joined was a protruding mound covered with a soft, silky patch of golden blonde hair. As her eyes gazed at her reflection, Jane thought she saw the pink lips of her vagina form a pout. She shook herself violently to cast off such evil thoughts and pulled a robe around her.
The strength flowed back through her. She read almost constantly, and she felt both her mind and body sharpen to a keen edge. Bill Martin was pleased and enthusiastic about her recovery. He gave her daily reports from Mildred Thatcher about the progress of the organization, and he was pleased to see that Jane didn't try to go right back to work.
"I feel like a new woman," she told him one afternoon. "You've done miracles for me, but it's been almost ten days now. Shouldn't I think about getting back to work?"
"I was wondering when you'd begin feeling some anxiety about your work again, and I think we're at the stage where we can discuss that now. Your recovery has been excellent. You look and feel like a new person, Jane, but that's not the whole story.
"If you went back to work today, you'd be back in the same shape again within a few short months."
Jane walked over to the window. As she watched a gentle breeze filter through the beautiful elm trees that lined the quiet street below, Jane had a vague suspicion Doctor Bill was trying to tell her something, something that might even alter the entire course of her life.
"I don't understand," she said, turning to look deeply into his soft gray eyes. "Is there something organically wrong with me, something serious?"
"Not at all. All of the tests we've done in the past week have come up negative. You're in excellent health, physically. What I'm trying to tell you is that the same mental exhaustion which caused this attack of nerves will come right back and cause another if you don't realign your life some."
"Are you saying I had a nervous breakdown?"
"For lack of a better definition, yes. You put yourself under too much pressure, carried too big a load, shouldered too much responsibility. I'm not trying to tell you to quit, Jane, but damn it, you simply have to slow down! Let some of the others carry part of the load!"
"You offend me when you swear like that. I thought you were a bigger person than to have to resort to common, vulgar language like that," she said as she moved to her chair by the window and sat down. Jane saw a momentary frown cross Doctor Bill's face, but he moved to her and took her hand with a gentle pressure.
"I'm sorry. It's seldom one finds someone true to their beliefs. Look, Jane, I've been making some arrangements and I want you to follow my advice."
Jane averted his eyes and looked out the window, letting the familiar scene reassure her. She had no idea of what was coming, but a warning inside her made her dread what he was about to say.
"I want you to take a couple of weeks completely away from your work. You can sit down, relax and analyze exactly where you're going. Think about the organization. Consider how it can be changed to let others carry part of your load. Arrange it so that an eight-hour day is all that's required of you. And then begin thinking about having a personal life, one that's completely separated from your work. If you can do all of this, your recovery will be complete and you won't have to worry about another attack."
Still avoiding his searching eyes, Jane continued gazing at the quiet neighborhood she loved so well. "You said a moment ago that you had made some arrangements?"
"Yes, and I want you to approve them. You know the conference on narcotic and drug control being held in Mexico City later this month?"
"Yes, but that's for scientific people only, isn't it?"
"Reverend James contacted a doctor here who made arrangements with a Dr. Gorman in Mexico City, and we have an invitation for you to attend. Reverend James' congregation and another church group are footing the bill for your trip. What I want you to do is fly down to Mexico City at the end of this week."
"But the conference isn't until the end of the month."
"Exactly! That will give you two weeks or better away from everything. You can relax, see the sights and begin reorganizing your life. It's a tailor-made opportunity. I've made all your reservations, and here's a letter to a good friend of mine, Robert Cutter, at the American Embassy in Mexico City. He'll look out for you and take care of anything you may need. I want you to go and see him as soon as you arrive. I've already written him that you're coming.
"And before you offer me any arguments, Mildred Thatcher and Reverend James assure me that they and the others can handle everything here. You'll be missed, but they'll carry on your work."
CHAPTER THREE
Avillo Guzman walked slowly down the sloping lawn to the gazebo. It was his custom to have a light breakfast consisting of fresh fruit, toast and coffee there every morning, and Avillo Guzman was very much a man of custom. He wore a pastel-blue silk shirt, black mohair slacks and a pair of Italian loafers made of kid leather with a stylish tassel where the laces should have been. At forty-six, Avillo Guzman was one of the most powerful men in Mexico, and he knew it. His body was surprisingly lean and hard, and he did exercises every day to keep it that way. His eyes were a bit too cold, like glittering steel; his nose a bit too Roman; his features too sharp, and his mouth too wide, too sensual, with lips that appeared to be mocking everyone and everything, but all of this was offset by a quick wit and a keen mind that had brought him to the top of the pack.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance of his beautiful Cuernavaca estate. The fifteen-foot high walls surrounding the three acres were covered with a thick, lush growth of bougainvillaea draping down with cascading splashes of red and yellow. Jacaranda trees dotted the grounds, their gorgeous lavender blue blooms filling the air with a sweet, fresh fragrance. A man-made stream wound through the heavy-turfed grounds with quaint stone bridges gracefully crossing it here and there. Birds or paradise, gladiolas, and even orchids grew in profusion in little gardens along the stream.
The main house was in the center of the property, surrounded by jacarandas and fruit-bearing citrus trees. Above the main house, on the highest part of the estate, was the Game Room, a separate building set off by itself. Servants' quarters, enough to house the staff of some twenty-odd necessary to run the estate, lined the west wall. The communications center, a building housing teletypes and a small telephone switchboard, was located in the far east comer, close by the giant swimming pool designed with a small, tropical island in the center, and a line of thatch-roofed cabanas along one end.
Remembering that the rainy season would soon be here, Avillo Guzman looked up at the bright blue sky. He couldn't see even the hint of a cloud, and this pleased him. It was warm, but a slight breeze from the west made the air fresh and pleasant. It was never uncomfortable in this City of Eternal Spring, he thought to himself. For years he had lived in Mexico City, forty-six miles to the north, but that was when he was on his way up. With his widespread network firmly established, he could now afford the gracious living of the wealthy.
The gazebo, covered with climbing jasmine and surrounded by lush tropical plants, was his favorite place on the estate. It provided him a certain tranquillity in the midst of beauty.
Mark Wilson, not yet accustomed to the Mexican way of life, was up early and seated at the table when Senor Guzman arrived. He stood and offered his hand.
"Good morning, Sir."
"Buenos Dias, Mark. Sleep well?"
"Like a log! This climate is unbelievable!"
Avillo Guzman studied the fresh, clean-shaven face of the young American. He had high hopes for Mark. A few years ago a man like Mark Wilson would have served no purpose in his organization, but things had changed. Now a man like Mark would be very valuable. He had realized this the day he met Mark, even under the rather strange circumstances.
Mark was graduated from Stanford last spring. His family were well-to-do and Mark decided to take a holiday in Mexico before settling down to work. He had specialized in public relations and had an offer from one of the top firms in San Francisco. His two-week holiday stretched into a month. He would have stayed even longer, but he was afraid he might lose out on the position he'd been offered. Crossing the border, Mark Wilson was arrested when the customs agents found two kilos of marijuana in his luggage. Because of his prominent family, Mark's arrest made headlines.
Avillo Guzman was in Juarez that morning. He immediately arranged for bond and had Mark brought to his hotel room in El Paso. It was through Guzman's organization that Mark purchased the marijuana, but that wasn't the reason for Senor Guzman's sudden and unexpected assistance. Mark was just the type of man he had been looking for, and he offered him a job while they talked.
Mark had been using marijuana for years. Convinced that it was harmless, he intended to continue using it. And when Senor Guzman explained that a felony conviction, which was certain, would ruin his career, prevent him from getting a decent job and even deny him his right to vote, Mark accepted his offer. He flew home, arranged personal matters, went through a bitter argument with his parents, and returned to Mexico to live. This was Mark's third week in Cuernavaca, and he loved it. He had a suite in the main house, delicious food, and had even experienced two delightful sessions in the Game Room. Who could ask for more?
Gradually, Mark was learning the ins and outs of the Guzman empire. His job, his employer had explained, was to handle any touchy situations which might arise, and to develop a long-range, hard-hitting program to insure that marijuana would maintain its current status in the United States. Any moves to legalize the use or sale of marijuana up north had to be thwarted. As a result, Mark found himself on the side of those he had fought against for so long.
"Where's Dr. Gorman?" Guzman asked, sipping the piping hot, aromatic coffee.
"He helped entertain that man from Washington in the Game Room last night, so I guess he's sleeping in this morning."
"Any word on the Horner girl?"
The workings of his employer's mind completely left Mark on this issue. Perhaps he could get him to explain, even though he had been unsuccessful in two previous attempts. Mark slid a fresh piece of pina onto his plate and spoke as he cut the sweet meat into small chunks.
"Gorman told me yesterday that he'd received a wire saying she would attend the conference. Our man at Aeronaves says she's booked on a flight to Mexico City this coming Friday...."
Before he could ask his question, Dr. Gorman strolled into the gazebo, exchanged greetings with the two men and sat down to take a sip of the steaming coffee the houseboy had placed before him. He lifted his cup in a mock toast and let the savory brew awaken his appetite.
"Mark tells me Miss Horner has taken the bait," Guzman said.
"She arrives late Friday afternoon," Gorman replied.
"Excellent! And the interception?" Guzman asked.
"Consuela leaves in the morning for the states. She'll pick up the flight at Chicago. It's arranged for her to have the seat next to Miss Homer."
"Very efficient. I'm pleased with the way you handle things, Doctor."
"I wish I understood just what it is I'm handling."
Mark opened his mouth to add his own question about the Horner incident, but another interruption arrived in the person of Juan Hinojos, one of the men in charge of the communications center. Beads of perspiration on his forehead made it obvious that he had rushed from the communications building to the gazebo.
"Senor Guzman...." he began, but Avillo Guzman silenced him with a wave of his hand. Guzman raised his arm, glanced at his watch, and spoke.
"Calm down, Juan. If you hurry like that you'll die young. Inasmuch as it's ten-fifteen, you've come to tell me you've just received a teletype from Juarez. Is that right?"
"Yes, sir...."
"And the teletype said that Jaime Rios was just arrested at the border and two hundred kilos of marijuana were seized. Is that correct?"
Juan looked at his employer, his mouth open and a startled expression in his eyes. Senor Guzman must have eyes in the back of his head, or, better yet, a super radio receiver in his ear! The incident had taken place less than twenty minutes ago. The teletype came direct from their man at the border, and Juan had rushed to the gazebo the minute he received it. How could he know? "Well?"
"Yes, sir, that's exactly what happened. I just don't see how you...."
"Never mind, Juan," Guzman interrupted, "you're doing a good job in communications. Just keep it up. I have a certain instinct about these things."
Juan, dismissed with a wave of the hand, walked dejectedly back across the lawn. "Mother of God," he muttered to himself, "he's done that to me five times! I don't see how he knows!"
"If I didn't know better, Senor Guzman," Mark said, "I'd swear you arrange these arrests!"
Senor Guzman looked into Mark's eyes for a moment. Mark thought he was going to say something, perhaps even answer him, but Guzman thought better of it and leaned back in his chair. Fresh coffee was brought and the three men sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost in his own thoughts. Dr. Gorman broke the mood with a snap of his fingers and leaned forward.
"Before I forget it," he said, "Consuela asked for a car and a driver in Mexico City when they get here. She said to make the car one of the tourist type taxis."
"Send Paco. He's trustworthy and a good driver. Arrange with Mornera to have a car for him."
"But he's so ugly," Gorman said.
Guzman whirled on Gorman, his eyes blazing momentarily with a cold fire. The storm went through him in a fraction of a second, and his voice was perfectly controlled when he replied.
"You don't have to be handsome to drive a car! Paco will handle everything the way I want it handled. Have him see me before he leaves."
What Mark had seen in Guzman's eyes for that one fleeting moment frightened him. He'd always found Guzman to be the perfect gentleman, suave, intelligent, and in complete control of himself. This cold rage was an entirely new facet of Guzman's personality, one he hoped he would not have an occasion to explore. Mark was about to question Senor Guzman about the Horner girl, when Dr. Gorman saved him the trouble.
"How about filling us in on what you have in mind for Miss Homer?"
"Yes, I've been wondering the same thing," Mark interjected. "You've gone to a great deal of trouble and expense to bring the Homer girl down here. What's it all about?"
"Have you read that material on Jane Homer I gave you yesterday?" Guzman asked Mark, leaning far back in his chair and lifting is coffee to hold the cup in both hands as he watched the two men at the table.
"Yes. I read it all last night," Mark replied. "It would seem our little Miss Homer is the goody-goody of all times, the purer-than-driven-snow virgin type."
"Miss Homer will be a much wiser goody-goody, as you call it, Mark, when she leaves us. As to her virginity, I think Paco can alter that state forever."
Mark Wilson had grown to hate Jane Horner in less than thirty minutes as he read about her life. His first reaction was that she was very attractive. Her photos made her look like a movie star and Mark's interest soared as he glanced through the file his employer had given him. This soon clouded over, however, when he realized that Jane Homer represented everything he had fought against for the past five years. She was a Bible Belt Baptist, one who believed every word of the Bible literally. Her campaign against marijuana was based entirely on emotionalism. Her organization ignored scientific facts that didn't fit their preconceived notions, and they made a hero out of any quack who said marijuana was evil. The thought of Jane Homer being tortured didn't bother Mark at all. In fact, he'd rather like to see that stuck-up blonde get the royal fucking of her life. But he couldn't see the logic of it from Guzman's standpoint.
"I'm sure it'll do her a world of good," Mark said with a smile, "but I fail to see how it will help our business. What's the plan?"
"I have no plan at the moment, Mark. But let me suggest several interesting avenues to be explored before Miss Homer arrives...."
Mark and Dr. Gorman listened attentively as Senor Guzman led them along a number of rather devious paths. This was Mark's first experience with how Guzman's keen mind worked, and he was openly amazed at the ruthless cunning displayed before him. No wonder he's where he is today, Mark thought.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Your first trip to Mexico?" asked the very attractive Latin girl sitting next to Jane.
Jane had noticed the ultra-chic Dior suit when they were boarding the plane. The patent leather shoes and bag set off the pastel green silk of the suit and blended with the girl's raven black hair beautifully, Jane thought. The girl's body, not too well concealed beneath the Dior creation, was outstanding. Her large, full breasts came together and left a deep cleavage that would lure men to the ends of the earth, Jane thought. Her face, with soft, delicate features framed in an almost perfect oval, was beautiful. The high cheek bones reminded Jane of a young Ava Gardner.
"Yes," Jane replied, "and I'm so excited about it!"
"I live there. And you're right, it's an exciting city. My name is Consuela Garcia. Connie for short."
"Mine's Jane. Jane Homer, and I live in Omaha."
The two girls chatted about fashions, new hair styles, the books they had read, and even religion. Jane learned that Connie was Catholic, but she didn't hold that against her. She had some very fine friends who were Catholic. In fact, Jane didn't hold anything against Connie; she liked her very much. Within an hour it seemed like they had known each other for years. Jane felt relaxed and at ease with Connie, and she couldn't help but notice the admiring glances the male passengers gave the two of them.
Connie smoked, and even took a drink, but you couldn't hold that against her. After all, many people had no idea how much they tortured their bodies!
Noticing the plain, but very expensive jewelry Connie wore, Jane supposed that Connie was married to a very wealthy man. She guessed Connie to be in her mid to late twenties, and Jane was certain Connie was a college graduate.
"Where're you staying in Mexico City?" Connie asked.
"At the El Presidents"
"Marvelous, so am I."
"I thought you lived there."
"Oh, not in the city. I live down in Cuernavaca, but I'll spend tonight in the city. I want to do some shopping in the morning before I go down. Say, I have a marvelous idea! Why don't you come shopping with me in the morning? My uncle will have a car and driver for me, and we'll tour some of the best shops."
"I'd love it!" Jane replied enthusiastically. "All I have to do is go by the American Ebasssy and say hello to a man who's expecting to hear from me as soon as I arrive. I'll do that first thing, and then we'll hit the shops. It sounds exciting!"
Shit, Consuela thought to herself, there's a complication none of us anticipated! It'll be worth it, though. With that body of hers Jane would be a real star in the Game Room! Maybe Avillo will let me have a shot at her. I'd love to sit on that pretty face of hers and make her sink her tongue deep into my cunt! Consuela's legs felt a tight, tingling sensation when the thought of having Jane's head between her thighs came to her. She shifted in the seat to relieve the itch in her loins, remembering that the fish wasn't completely in the net yet.
"Unless it's a close friend, check in by phone. It'll save you a lot of time."
"I suppose I could do that. I don't really know the man at all. He's a friend of my doctor. Yes, I'll do that."
That wasn't as bad as it sounded, Consuela thought. She doesn't know him at all! That should be simple to handle! A phone call, a plausible story and all would be taken care of.
"Do you have other friends in Mexico?" Consuela asked, making sure all loopholes were covered.
"No, none at all. A Dr. Gorman helped me get an invitation to a meeting, but I've never met him."
You will, indeed you will, Consuela said to herself! She could remember the day not too long ago when she was as naive and enthusiastic as Jane Horner. Dr. Gorman had helped change all that. Consuela's family was poor, and she had been waiting tables in a cocktail lounge in Mexico City. Guzman and Gorman were regular customers and they talked her into coming down to Cuernavaca one weekend. Gorman had been on a hypnotism kick at the time, and through hypnosis they introduced Consuela to the pleasures of sex in the Game Room.
Consuela had had no education to speak of, but she was shrewd in the way of a peasant. Guzman's wealth was apparent, and when pleasure finally gave way to pain in sex, Consuela was receptive to a liaison proposed by Senor Guzman. She would live at the estate and be available for any type of sexual encounter. She would do exactly as she was told, giving them free reign with her body and mind. In return, Consuela would have all the money she could use, the finest wardrobe and extensive travel. She would receive instructions from a private tutor in the social graces and become the unofficial hostess at the estate.
Doubts were ever present in Consuela's mind at the beginning. The things they did to her, and the things they had her do to them, were terrible. She spent weeks sleeping on her stomach and unable to sit down, her body racked with pain as a result of the hours she spent in the Game Room. Then a transformation took place. She gave herself over to them completely, wallowing with them in the pursuit of their unusual desires. Her personality changed, and soon she became a female version of her employer.
The only thorn in her life was Dr. Carl Gorman. He said he was from Austria, but Consuela was certain there was more to his story than he was willing to tell. Under his benign facade, he was capable of almost inhuman cruelty. She was almost positive that Senor Guzman felt the same way about Gorman. The trust he placed in the doctor had definite limits.
Jane broke the silence with a flood of questions about Mexico City. Consuela answered, her mind snapping back to the immediate task before her. They chatted, and when the plane landed they were the closest of friends.
The two girls walked out of customs and immigrations together, arm in arm and laughing at how skillfully Consuela had handled the customs inspector. Paco was waiting for them near the airline counter, his deformed body standing out in the crowded corridor. He was dressed in a suit and tie, which accentuated rather than concealed his grotesque body. Consuela took Jane's arm and guided her through the crowd to where Paco was standing. Jane shuddered when she saw the misshapen body and the ugly face, and Paco didn't miss the momentary shiver running through her.
"Hola, Paco!" Consuela said. "With this crowd, I'm certainly glad my uncle sent you to meet us! Paco, this is Jane Horner, a friend of mine."
Paco smiled and nodded his head in a slight bow. Jane was thankful he didn't attempt to shake her hand. He was so repulsive to her, the very thought of having him touch her was more than she could bear. And the man smelled. He really did. Jane hadn't been certain at first with so many people around, but there was a definite odor coming from him, a very unpleasant odor. A mixture of cologne and dirt, or cologne and sweat. Her nostrils quivered at the foul scent, but Jane controlled herself lest she offend him.
The porter brought their luggage and the trio headed for the main entrance where Paco had the car waiting with the engine running. They had to thread their way through the crowded lobby, and at one point Paco put his arm around Jane's waist and applied gentle pressure to guide her around a knot of people. Jane's body shuddered when she felt his unwelcome touch, causing her to give an involuntary jerk forward. She escaped from his grasp and moved straight forward through the crowd, tossing a "I think I can manage, thank you," over her shoulder at him.
"You stinking gringo bitch," Paco murmured under his breath. "You'll be singing a different tune before long." He watched Jane's buttocks sway as she moved ahead of him, grinning inwardly as he thought of running his cock up that tight little ass. When he got through with her, she'd be begging him to use her blonde cunt!
The ride into town was dull. Passing through one of the industrial districts, Jane watched the gray, dirty, uninteresting factories pass in an unending stream one after the other. Traffic, among the heaviest in the world, pressed bumper to bumper four lanes abreast. They were in the last hour of daylight and Jane noticed a heavy, black, oppressive haze hanging over the city.
"What's that black smoke coming from?" she asked.
"That's not smoke, dear," Consuela replied, "it's smog. It's become so bad in the past three years the government has passed a number of laws against air polution. The same problem some of your cities are having, only there it's worse, much worse!"
Paco wound the car skillfully down San Juan de Letran and Isabel la Catolica, heading for the central part of the city. Using several side streets, he pulled onto Juarez one block before it became Paseo de la Reforma. He cursed under his breath as he saw the heavy traffic ahead on La Reforma. He wouldn't have come this way, but Consuela wanted to show the gringo cunt the tree-lined avenue with its many statues and fountains. It would take them better than thirty minutes to get to El Presidente this way. He settled back in the seat, giving his leg a rest, and gripped the wheel with a fierce determination. In the mirror he watched the blonde's tits heaving and jiggling as she and Consuela talked.
"Say, I have a great idea!" Consuela said. "Why not have dinner with me tonight? We'll go over to La Jena and feast on some real French food. I'm famished, how about you?"
"I'd like to take a raincheck on that Connie. To be perfectly honest, I'm pooped! I thought I'd just grab a bite at the hotel, take a good hot bath and hit the hay. It sounds like tomorrow will be a full day, and I think I'd better rest up for it. Maybe tomorrow night, or next week...."
"I know how you feel, Jane. Traveling always tires me, too. I really should visit my cousin, but I just thought it would be pleasant to have dinner together. You're right about tomorrow. If we're going shopping, we'll be on our feet a lot. What do you say we have breakfast early? Eight-thirty all right with you?"
"Fine. I'll meet you in the lobby."
"Meet by the swimming pool. That's where we'll have breakfast. The pool is right in the lobby."
"In the lobby?"
"You'll see. It's beautiful."
And it was! Jane had never seen a swimming pool in a hotel lobby before. It was against the west wall, the wall itself, made of rough stone, forming one edge of the pool. Ivy climbed the stone in irregular patterns and water dripped here and there to give the effect of a waterfall. Tables and chairs were arranged on a large terrace raised slightly above the pool, and people were seated sipping coffee, watching the lovely girl in a skimpy bikini take an early dip.
Jane chose a table near the pool and sat down. The hot bath and ten full hours of sleep had done wonders for her. She felt completely relaxed and was looking forward to an exciting day of shopping. The waiter came and Jane ordered coffee while she waited for Connie. Looking at her watch, Jane noticed that it was already past eight-thirty. She smiled to herself. Mexicans are never on time!
Consuela was busy wrestling with a problem of her own, how to get Jane to Cuernavaca. She hated to drug her. It always took so long to wear off, and she had no idea of what Senor Guzman had in mind for the girl. Yet she could see no other way. Jane obviously had a mind of her own, and she would be un-likely to agree to a trip to Cuernavaca without a damned good reason. If she told Jane her uncle was ill, Jane would be sympathetic, but she'd probably insist on remaining at the hotel.
And the man at the American Embassy. That was something she had to handle before they did anything else! It wouldn't do to have anyone looking for Jane Horner! Paco wanted to hit her over the head and take her down last night, but Paco lacked a subtle mind. No, this had to be handled smoothly, and doping her was the only practical way. Consuela glanced at her watch and realized she was late.
"That was a marvelous breakfast!" Jane said, finishing the last few sips of coffee in her cup.
"You'll find the food here is excellent," Consuela replied. "Speaking of food, I suppose you've been warned about our little tourista bug down here?"
"I've heard a lot about it. Should I be careful?"
Consuela opened her purse and took out a small, red capsule. She handed it to Jane with a wide smile and a little wink.
"Take this and you won't have to worry at all. It's no fun worrying about what you can and cannot eat while you're on vacation. This is perfectly safe, and it'll kill the bug before it has a chance to get started. I'll take you by a farmacia later on and you can get a supply of your own."
Trying not to show her anxiety, Consuela watched Jane hold the capsule in her hand and weigh the decision in her mind. She wavered for a moment, opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, thought better of it and swallowed the pill with a big sip of water. Consuela relaxed, a grin momentarily crossing her lips. They had almost an hour before the pill would take effect, and there was still much to do. She signed the check and took Jane's arm, leading her outside where Paco had the car waiting.
They drove through the little section of town surrounding the hotel. Consuela explained that it was really called the Niza area because Niza Street was its central thoroughfare, but that the taxi drivers called it the "Zona Rosa," the "Pink One," because this was where all the American tourists stayed. "Prices here are almost double what they are in any other part of town," Consuela said as Paco turned off Hamburgo Street and headed for the area near Washington Square.
Consuela had him stop near the square, and she went to one of the little telephone boxes on the sidewalk. Jane waited in the car, a sudden drowsiness flowing through her body. Consuela had looked up the number of the American Embassy before she left her room, and Jane had mentioned at breakfast the name of the man she was to contact.
"Hello, Mr. Cutter? ... This is Jane Horner. I meant to come by to see you this morning, but I ran into an old friend and we're going to Veracruz togther ... Yes, last night, but I was too tired to even try to call you. You understand how those long flights on a jet are ... Thank you. And I'm looking forward to meeting you. I'll call you when I get back to Mexico City ... Oh, I don't really know. Maybe a week, maybe two weeks. I'll be back for the conference, though. Perhaps we can have lunch or dinner then ... Fine, I'll look forward to it ... 'By now."
Consuela breathed a sigh of relief and walked back to the car. Jane was breathing heavily, her eyelids almost closed. When she heard Consuela open the door, Jane looked up.
"Connie, I'm not feeling too well. I think I may be having one of my attacks again. Would you mind terribly if I went back to the hotel?"
"Fine, dear. I understand. It may be the altitude. We're over a mile in the air, you know."
Knowing Jane had no more than five minutes before she would be unconscious, Consuela motioned to Paco with her hand and the car lurched forward as he headed for Insurgentes Avenue and the Cuernavaca tollroad. Jane's last conscious memory was of a pretty fountain as Paco swung the car onto Insurgentes and headed south.
CHAPTER FIVE
The mozo closed the steel gates as Paco wheeled the car into the cochera. Mark Wilson and Avillo Guzman walked up from the gazebo and watched Paco and the mozo lift Jane's inert body from the back seat. Consuela walked over and stood beside them, a wide smile spreading across her face as Guzman complimented her on a job well done.
"She's a beautiful bitch, isn't she?" remarked Mark.
"That would be in the area of a matter of taste, Mark," said Guzman with a small chuckle, "but if you like her, why don't you break her in before I turn Paco loose on her? You could ream her out a little to prepare the way for Paco."
"I think I'll take you up on that," Mark replied.
"The drug should wear off completely in about five hours, but she'll be conscious enough for a good fucking in two hours," Consuela said. "Where do you want her? We can put her in the Game Room now, if you wish."
"That will be her home for a while, so we might just as well start her off there," said Guzman.
He signaled to Paco and they all headed for the building that housed the Game Room. Guzman unlocked the door as Paco and the mozo carried Jane inside. They placed her on the circular bed. Senor Guzman, Mark and the mozo left Consuela and Paco alone with Jane. Paco reached down to the drugged girl and took her two full breasts cruelly in his hands and squeezed them. Saliva dripped from his mouth as he thought about what he would do to the gringo cunt when his time came.
"Are her tits as nice as they look?" Consuela asked, crossing the room and unbuttoning Jane's blouse. She slipped her hand inside and her searching fingers covered the firm mounds, teasing the large nipples erect by rolling them between her thumb and forefinger. "Oh, yes, they certainly are! I'm going to have some real fun with you, baby, but not until you're awake enough to enjoy it!"
Jane felt as though a hundred thousand pounds were holding her down. She had to fight, tearing piece by piece the black layers which surrounded her, and using every ounce of her strength to force her eyelids open. She managed to open them just a crack, and that first burst of light sent stabbing pains through her head. She let them drop and then forced them open again. For what seemed like an eternity she kept her eyes open without moving a muscle in her body. She was on her back in what looked like a tent, the white silk folds of the ceiling staring down at her. She tried to turn on her side, but her muscles refused to obey her mind. Her arms were like dead weights at her sides. Jane's body felt like it was floating in a giant tank of soft fur. She closed her eyes, trying to remember what had happened to her, but her mind went sailing off in a dozen different directions at one time. She saw the eyes of the fifteen-year-old boy she had testified against. They watched her, moved closer and bored into her body. Those searching, searing eyes! The orphanage! The ruler singing through the air and cutting into the skin on her soft buttocks, all because she hadn't made her bed properly! The man who swore he would get her when the judge sentenced him to five years in prison for selling marijuana. His wife crying as the judge pronounced police had framed him to make headlines. The shrieks and the eyes became one, ripping and gouging Jane's body.
Drifting in and out of consciousness, Jane struggled to grip the reality of where she was. If she could just grasp it and hold on. Move away from the terror in the hidden regions of her mind!
Then, slowly, a semblance of strength coursed through her body. Jane could move her fingers, her toes, even her arm. Her body was heavy, but with effort she could move. She turned partially on her side. The red velvet walls frightened her, but by gripping the fur on the bed she managed to hold and keep from spinning in the black void that kept reaching for her. She saw that she was on a large circular bed, the biggest bed she had ever seen. Jane ran her fingers slowly through the fur cover, a pleasing, warm sensation flowing through her. It was white and reminded her of a hospital. Was she in a hospital? Why was her body so heavy? Why couldn't she move? Even her vision was blurred. Things would be sharp and then drop out of focus.
A door at the end of the room opened. Jane saw a nice-looking man come in and close the door behind him. Even through her blurred vision she was certain it was Peter. Thank God! But why was he naked? Looking down her body, Jane realized that she too was naked. She tried to scream, "Peter, come help me," but nothing came from her lips, not even a murmur.
Mark stopped a few feet from the circular bed and stood looking down at the naked girl before him. He involuntarily drew his breath as he stared at the unbelievable sight before him. Mark had fucked his share of women, but never anything like this! Those tits of hers are like marble globes topped with ripe strawberries. Her legs are perfectly formed, tapering to her delicate feet. And that cunt! Pink lips crested with soft, golden hair!
Her face looked so innocent Mark for a moment felt sorry for her. But then he remembered just what this bitch had done to thousands of people, who, like him, were convicted felons cut loose from society to drift in hopeless despair. His resolve hardened along with his blood-filled cock as he climbed on the giant bed. "Peter...."
No, you stupid bitch, I'm not Peter, Mark thought, but I have a peter here that is aching to sink all the way up into your belly! He pushed her flat on her back and kneeled over her, his knees rubbing against her ribs. Grabbing one glove in each hand, Mark began kneading the soft, white flesh of her tits. Her eyes were open and staring into his.
"No, Peter, we mustn't. It's not nice!"
Ignoring her, Mark lowered his throbbing cock and rested it between her breasts. With the thumb and forefinger of the right hand he reached over and pushed her tits tighter against the swollen prick between them, beginning a slow fucking movement by thrusting his hips back and forth gently. His other hand moved over the magnificent breasts, tweaking the nipples between his fingers until he could feel them hardening under his caressing. Jane's body moved under him, just slightly, but enough to let him know that he was reaching her sensual being. He kept sliding his rigid cock between her breasts, little beads of moisture leaving a moist, sticky trail on the pure white skin of her valley. He felt his balls rub against her skin and the tickling sensation made his passion rise.
Jane was only vaguely aware of what was happening to her. She couldn't understand what Peter was doing to her, but it felt so nice, so warm and exciting! That hard thing between her breasts gave her a delicious feeling. It throbbed and she imagined that she could feel Peter's heart beating through it.
The itch between her legs was maddening! She ground her thighs together to try to rub it away, but that only made the itch worse. Jane lifted her hand and reached to the secret region between her legs. She knew Peter wouldn't mind. It wasn't nice, but when you itched like she did you had to scratch it! Her groping fingers had just found their target when her hand was roughly pushed away.
"I'll take care of that for you," Mark said, shifting his position so that he was now straddling her body in the opposite direction.
He inserted his hands between the creamy white skin of her tightly clasped thighs and pulled them apart roughly. Jane moaned as he forced her thighs even wider apart, using his elbows to hold them in an obscenely unnatural position so that her entire cunt and ass were opened wide before his probing eyes. His fingers ran through the soft, silky hair that was now moist from her desire. Pulling her cunt open wide, Mark ran his finger around the inner edge of her now puffy lips. Jane's body moved, her hips thrusting up to open her crotch even more for this foreign invasion of her most intimate region. Teasing her tiny, erect clitoris, Mark goaded her on. He flicked the top of her clitoris with the end of his finger, sending a sensation through Jane's body she had never experienced before.
Jane felt like there was a fire between her legs. She opened her eyes wide and was startled to see Mark's trim buttocks staring at her. He was kneeling on top of her, his balls hanging down and rubbing against her belly, his asshole, partially covered with black hair, plainly in view. Was this Peter? What was he doing to her down there? She closed her eyes and let the pure, sensual pleasure engulf her.
Mark jabbed his finger up her cunt, sinking it to the first joint. It was warm and moist, the fluids beginning to run wild in her body, but it was also very tight. He felt the inner folds of her cunt cover the end of his finger and pull it, almost sucking it up inside her.
Jane's body heaved, trying to free itself from the pain of this foreign intrusion. "Ooh!" she moaned as he pressed it up to his second joint, moving it not too gently in circles to prepare the way for what was to come later. "Uugghh! That hurts," she cried. Mark moved an inch for better leverage and calmly sunk his finger to the hilt in her pulsating cunt. With a quick wrist motion he began fucking her unmercifully with his finger, ramming it to the hilt and pulling all the way back. He felt something obstructing his path and rammed even deeper, pushing the tip of his finger against the enflamed membrane. On his third heave it broke and blood trickled down his fingers.
Jane's body squirmed helplessly against his vicious onslaught. Even in her semi-conscious state the pain was unbearable! Why was he doing this to her? Just because she had tried to scratch herself? Then a shooting pain, far greater than the others, ripped through her belly and up to her head. Why didn't he stop! He would kill her! "Ooh! Pleeaase! You're tearing me in half! Pleeaase! Oh, God, please stoppp!"
"Shut up, you Bible Belt Bitch! I haven't even started on you yet!"
Mark let his finger run across her brown starfish, puckered tightly against an intrusion. Moistening his finger in her wet cunt, he sipped it back and pressed the tip of it against her asshole. It was tight and held against the invasion, but Mark kept wetting the tip of his finger in her cunt and working it against the tight little anus until it expanded and his finger popped inside. He slipped his thumb in her cunt and pressed it against the wall until he could feel his other finger up her ass. With a slow, sawing motion, he began fUcking her from two angles. He then lowered his body and ran his purple-veined cock along her belly, aiming at her belly button and sinking the head of his swollen member into it as if it was another hole.
The pain was gradually giving way to a new sensation and Jane found her body moving in anticipation of the thrusts invading her. She could feel the beginnings of a boiling desire inside her, but Jane didn't understand it. Her muscles were coming back and her body felt lighter, but Peter had control of her body now. What was wrong with her? Why didn't she stop what he was doing to her? Was this all a dream, one of her nightmares?
Mark felt a hot, searing passion coursing through his body. His cock was trying to dig into her belly and he could feel his balls swelling as they filled with the thick come he would shoot far up inside her. He raised himself and changed into a kneeling position between her legs, his wet, sticky cock waving at her, his cruel fingers probing the inner depths of her wide open cunt. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her knees into the air, pressing them down on her breasts. He wedged his body against hers until her ankles were resting on his shoulders, her gaping cunt open and surging toward him.
Jane looked down between her breasts at her exposed vagina with the glistening, swollen penis aimed at it. For a moment, she couldn't believe it was happening to her. Then she screamed. "Noo! Please don't! Noo! You can't!"
Mark took his surging rod in his hand and began running the throbbing head around the outer edges of her cunt. He moved it back and forth, up and down, without letting it sink into her. Jane's body squirmed helplessly, but she couldn't move. Mark dipped the head of his cock into the blonde curls that encased her pink-lipped cunt, ran it back and forth across her clitoris and up and down the narrow slit. His balls ached for release, but he held himself in rigid control, savoring the moment when he would sink his member deep into her white belly.
Jane ran her tongue across her lips. The sweet torture he was putting her through was something she never knew existed. How could anything feel so good and yet be evil? She had regained complete consciousness now and knew what was happening to her. It was a moment she had half-dreaded all her life, and now it was happening with a complete stranger. She knew he wasn't Peter, and she wondered why he had tried to deceive her like that. She wanted to stop him, but deep within her she knew that she had to have that penis of his buried deep in her vagina. He had started a fire, a fire she couldn't control! She watched him move his hips for leverage and then thrust forward with a mighty heave.
"Aagh!" she screamed as he sunk his cock all the way up her. She felt as though her body was being torn down the middle and that she would be ripped in half from that giant penis imbedded deep in her middle. The fiery plunging rod felt as though it was coming all the way through her, through her belly, up her chest, and through her throat. As it plunged against her cervix, Jane's head swung back and forth on the fur cover.
Mark looked down and could see his curly black pubic hair tangled tightly with the blonde curls where their sexes met, the base of his thick cock buried deep into the pink throbbing furrow. He could see the tight lips of the cunt stretched almost to the bursting point, the rubbery outer pink rim clasping tightly around the tan skinned base of his prick. He thrust his hands under her hips, cupping the pliant globes and pulling her ass even higher.
Mark held her there for a moment, enjoying the spectacle of the proud, vriginal, Bible Belt Bitch impaled helplessly under him with his prick buried deep in her proud little cunt. How he'd love to have the newspapers see their brave little crusader now, wriggling her tight little ass and jerking her virginal crotch to get an extra inch of hot cock up her! Wouldn't they enjoy that!
Jane's body was moving from instinct now. Her crotch muscles tightened and she began flexing it. An indescribable feeling was surging through her body. The walls of her cringing cunt clasped around the thick cock inside her like it was a glove. She could feel its rough fleshy ridges as her nerve ends transmitted its monstrous form in minute details to her rapidly clearing mind. It was alive inside her, alive and hot and demanding! The tickling hairs of his balls dangling in the crevice of her ass were now part of her. The pain was still there, but now it was mingling with a strong desire which was strange to her being. Her lips felt dry, and she ran her tongue back and forth to moisten them.
Her cunt contracted, grabbing Mark's sliding piston and holding it tight in the folds of flesh inside her passionate box. Jane couldn't believe that it was her body reacting this way! Was she truly a frustrated sex maniac as one man had told her several years ago? Could this really be her? She hated the man invading her, and she hated herself for giving in to the weakness of her flesh!
Mark felt her cunt contract and squeeze his cock. He had been waiting for her to respond, waiting for the animal nature which he knew every woman possessed to come out. He stopped, held his body still, kept his cock sunk deeply inside her and let her contraction pull him deeper. He flexed his cock gently, expanding it inside her, but still not moving his body. He waited a moment and then flexed it again, watching her face contort as she felt his cock swell and completely fill her cunt. Jane closed her eyes to avoid looking into his. Her head began slowly swaying back and forth, her tongue racing across her lips with each turn.
Mark didn't move, his stillness serving him in two ways: the torture it gave her yearning cunt, and the time he needed to gain control. The perfection of her body, the beauty of her face, and the punishment he was inflicting on an old enemy combined to make Mark hotter than he could ever remember being. And now the wantonness of her sex-starved body was driving him wild.
All thoughts vanished from Jane's mind. Her body became all demanding. That penis inside her was her reason for being at the moment. Nothing was more important to her than this very moment!
Gradually, Mark began moving his cock into the skewered girl beneath him. He smiled as the muffled grunts of pleasure began pushing out from behind her partched lips. Jane's hips began a slow, involuntary roll beneath the throbbing rod that had her impaled. Mark clenched his teeth tightly to keep control as he felt her hungry crotch screwing itself up tighter against his pubic hair.
Jane's body came to life, dropping all pretenses. The pain was fast receding. An electric tingling sensation deep within her womb creeped relentlessly through the raw nerve ends of her flesh. It raced through her cunt and made the gaping lips quiver. She ground her clitoris against Mark's pelvis, delighting in the combination of pain and pleasure the movement produced. The new sensation flooded her body, reaching even the strawberry tips of her breasts. They felt like they were on fire as she pressed them against her knees. Tiny rivers of sweat formed between her tits and on her forehead, running down her body and sprinkling the fur cover.
Fuck! A four-letter word she had always detested, but it ran through her mind. Fuck! That was what she wanted! But she'd never give him the pleasure of hearing her say it.
She rotated her hips slowly, pulling Mark's prick with her as her vagina dilated and contracted. It felt as if she was staked to the bed, the rigid cock being the stake that held her down.
Mark was having trouble controlling himself. Those muscles in her cunt were nibbling hungrily at the blood-filled head of his prick. He watched the blonde crested pink slit pull tantalizingly up the shaft of his cock several inches and then nibble its way slowly back down, tangling their contrasting pubic hair and sinking his surging cock deep inside her white belly. Mark let her do all the work, her quivering cunt moving relentlessly up and down his mighty shaft, watching the slow withdrawal between them, the soft, pink ridges of her cunt pulling out as she screwed her pelvis down into the bed. Then the soft folds disappeared inside her cunt as she jerked her hips up to grind her clitoris against his pelvis.
He let her strain against him for a while, enjoy-the utter abandon of her excited movements.
"Somebody should have slipped the rod to you a long time ago, baby. You're a hot bitch in heat! You want the full measure of this cock rammed up inside you now?"
"Yes!"
"Tell me!"
"Oh, please!"
"Tell me!"
"Give it to me! Please! Give it to me as hard as you can!"
Mark pulled his cock out to the very edge of her cunt, then rammed it in as hard as he knew how. His balls flapped against her ass as he let his momentum build up.
"Ooh! God! More, please, more!" she screamed between clenched teeth. "Faster! Harder! Oohh!"
Mark culd feel her straining to climax. Juices began flowing through her wildly pulsating vagina, and a wet, sucking sound was coming loudly from their union. He fought for control, wanting to hold back and save his climax for a second torture after she had hers. He buried his cock deep inside her belly, moving it like a steam-driven piston. Her hips were moving fast, bucking against him wildly.
Mark almost went beserk as Jane's body began vibrating completely out of control. He felt her cunt contract with full force, and the wet, white come covered his cock and oozed down the heated passage, its warm liquid matting their pubic hair and trickling down his leg and over his aching balls.
Pushing her knees up to her ears, Mark rolled her into a tight ball impaled on his cock. He withdrew to the outer edge and then began ramming it with deadly accuracy into her deep womb. His body dropped down heavily on hers, mashing her tits against his hairy chest, her hard nipples bearing into his skin. He held her head in his hands and planted his lips full on hers as his cock churned into her belly. Swiftly, Mark reached around behind her and jabbed his finger into her tight anus. At the same time he forced her teeth apart and sank his tongue into her hot mouth.
The triple invasion of her body raised Jane to a new level of excitement. Her tongue found his and she began sucking it deeper into her mouth. His probing finger in her ass was rubbing against the thin wall that separated it from his lunging cock, and Jane felt her body go into convulsions from the mixture of pain and pleasure he was inflicting on her.
Mark knew his moment was near. He could feel the hot white come bubbling in his aching balls flapping wildly against the cheeks of Jane's ass. He gave up all efforts to control himself now and plunged deep inside her hot cunt. He wanted to spurt his hot come deep into her belly, even as far as her throat.
Jane felt him explode inside her, his come spewing through her cunt like hot lava. It flowed through her body like white fire, searing every raw nerve end and making her flesh burn. Before she knew what was happening, Jane felt her cunt answer Mark's explosion with one of its own. The milk-like juice poured from her hole, covered his balls and splashed on the fur. The thick mass covered their pubic hair and glued them together.
Their nervous systems drained, both bodies collapsed. Moments passed before Mark had the strength to pull his limp prick out of her gaping cavern. When he did, it took a mighty heave to place him in a sitting position on the edge of the round bed.
The demands of her body satiated, Jane's mind took command of her being. She raised her body painfully to a position where she leaned on her elbow and looked directly into Mark's eyes.
"What are you going to do to me? Where am I? Why? Can I leave now that you've satisfied your animal lust on me?"
Mark looked at her, enjoying her obvious discomfort. Her hauty, proud nature had returned, and Mark regretted he had not made her suffer more.
"Jane Horner," he said, "you've been fucked! You should thank God for that! At least you now know a part of what it is to be a woman. No, you can't leave. Not until we're through with you, and that could be a very long time."
Mark stood up and walked to the door.
"You bastard!" Jane screamed at him, shocked at her use of such profane language.
"I have no doubts about my parentage. How about you?" he flung over his shoulder at her as he left the room and closed the door.
Jane collapsed, an hysterical sobbing gripping her entire body.
CHAPTER SIX
"Your performance wasn't very outstanding."
"You watched?"
"Naturally. I haven't tasted the sweeteness of your cock yet, remember? I thought I'd have a preview so I would know what to expect."
Mark looked into Consuela's eyes to see if she was mocking him. Her gaze was steady and he decided she was being perfectly honest.
"I'm much better than that," he said moving to the edge of the gazebo and letting his eyes relax on the beauty of the grounds. The entire affair with Jane Horner had bothered him since he left her in the Game Room. In his mind he was trying to sort his thoughts and understand his attitude.
"I wasn't myself," he continued without looking at Consuela. "I don't even know why I did it. It was a sordid form of rape."
"Don't tell me you feel guilty about fucking that little blonde? What's the matter, does it offend your sense of nobility?"
"She's a human being, you know. What right did I have to do that to her? Oh, I don't know, Consuela, I'm just all mixed up about it. I enjoyed screwing her, but somehow I feel it was wrong."
"What happened to the Mark Wilson who told me all about the innocent people Miss Jane Horner had persecuted? She ruined their lives because she wanted everybody to be exactly like her. That's what you said, isn't it?"
"Yes, and it's true! The goody-goodies of this world won't be satisfied until they've made everybody exactly like they are, mean, unhappy, frustrated and too busy fighting life to enjoy it. They've a tradition of burning at the stake or hanging anyone who just happens to be a little different than they are."
Mark stopped for a moment, stared into space, and then turned to face Consuela.
"Maybe that's it. We hate them for sticking their noses into our business, and for trying to change us. Don't you see? That's exactly what we're doing to Jane Horner! We're doing to her just what we object to her doing to us...."
Consuela studied him for a minute and smiled.
"I was right! You're fighting your own nobility! I haven't had much education, Mark, but let me give you some advice. Nobility is fine for those who can afford it, and there are damned few of them in this world. The rest of us have to be practical, and Avillo Guzman never makes a move that isn't practical!"
Consuela turned away, looking into the garden and avoiding Mark's eyes. A hard look came over her face.
"I can tell you this," she continued, her voice low and charged. "This is no place for a conscience. I gave mine up long ago. I live for the moment, and I don't make any pretenses about it. I like my life. I want money and power just like Jane Horner does. Down deep, that's what makes her what she is." Consuela turned to look at Mark, the hardness gone from her face and a smile crossing her lips. "You want some more advice?"
"If it's free," Mark countered.
"Don't kid yourself about that either, Mark. Nothing in this life is free. You pay for everything you get, one way or another. I just wanted to warn you not to think like a hero and try to rescue your Jane Horner...."
A deep laugh burst from Mark's chest, the low pitch sound carrying halfway across the grounds.
"Up till then, Consuela, you had me pegged pretty well. I was beginning to wonder if you weren't a psychiatrist in disguise. But, sweetheart, I'm no hero. I detest everything Jane Horner stands for, and she'd be the last woman on earth I'd rescue from anything. If my conscience gets the best of me, the most I'll do is walk away and forget it."
Avillo Guzman and Dr. Gorman walked slowly across the lawn approaching the gazebo. They were in deep discussion and hardly noticed Mark and Consuela until they were almost upon them.
"Oh, Mark, I'm glad I found you," Guzman said, taking a seat at the table and waiting for the others to join him. "I have a task for you. I want you to find out everything you can about Miss Homer's organization. Find out if there's a staff meeting or something of that sort planned in the near future. You know, something where they pull in all their key people from the various areas. If not, how can one be arranged? You may have to fly up there, but I don't think that'll be necessary right away. Call Joe in Omaha and Ed in Chicago. Tell them to get right on it and give it top priority. What we want is a meeting of the key people, the ones who do all the work and get the rank and file excited."
"Yes, sir!" Mark said, his mind racing to evaluate what this was all about.
"I'm letting Paco teach Miss Homer some of the refinements of sex in about an hour, and I'm sure it'll be an interesting show. You and Consuela must join us to watch."
"I wouldn't miss it for anything," said Consuela.
Mark left the gazebo and headed for the communications center on an errand he didn't entirely understand.
Jane found the large, tile bathroom at the end of the Game Room. Her legs were not sure of themselves, but the effects of the drug had worn off and she was in control of herself. Splashing cold water in her face, Jane was certain she had been drugged. It had to have been Connie, she told herself, and that pill she had taken at breakfast. But why? What was this all about? Who was that man who had brought such pain and pleasure to her body? Why had he done it?
Questions raced through her brain as she took a steaming hot shower, the water relaxing her tense body. Getting out of the shower, Jane saw that there were only small hand-towels on the rack. She used three of them to dry herself and then returned to the Game Room with its bizarre decor. Being naked bothered her more than anything else. She looked around and discovered there was not a thing she could use to cover her body.
The door at the end of the room opened and a woman, obviously a maid, entered with a covered tray. She placed the tray on the small table at the entrance and left before Jane could even say a word.
A spicy, delicious aroma reached Jane. She crossed the room and lifted the cover from the tray. Delicate lobster tails with a cup of lemon-butter sauce, a small but very thick filet steak with tiny mushrooms caps, a shrimp cocktail, steaming string beans topped with sliced almonds, a large salad, warm rolls and piping hot coffee greeted her. The beautifully arrayed gourmet dishes reminded her that she was famished, and Jane attacked the food ravenously. She gave herself entirely over to enjoying the food, something she seldom did. She had always been a dainty eater. Food had just never interested Jane, but now she was eating like she had never eaten before, savoring each bite and allowing her taste buds to delight in an orgy of their own.
Time hung on her back like a heavy weight. It had been hours since anything had happened. The maid had entered the room, picked up the tray and left without uttering a word. Jane walked the room like a caged tigress, her nerves on raw edge. Once the thought struck her that she hadn't tried to escape, that she hadn't even tried the door to see if it was locked, and she raced to it and pulled on the handle with all her might, falling on her knees and sobbing when she found it locked tightly. Another time, certain she could get help by letting someone know she was a prisoner, she raced to the door and began pounding on it and screaming at the top of her lungs. She again sank to her knees, her voice hoarse from screaming and a sob racking her body. Her energy gone, Jane crawled back to the bed, pulled herself up, stretched out and fell into a deep, relaxing sleep.
Jane came awake suddenly when she heard the door at the end of the room open. Paco and another man stood there looking at her. Jane's hands instinctively made an attempt to cover her breasts and the golden pubic region between her thighs. The men laughed and moved forward. They pulled one of the narrow beds covered in black fur from along the wall and placed it directly in front of the long, floor-to-ceiling mirror.
Jane felt a terror shoot through her stomach as two hands grabbed her ankles in a steel grip. The evil leer on Paco's face as he took her wrists and lifted her from the bed chilled Jane. They dumped her on the narrow bed, pulling nylon ropes from beneath the bed and tying her in a spreadeagled position. Her hands and feet were at the four corners of the bed, held securely by the ropes. She quickly learned that any move to free herself, to pull away, would cruelly punish the muscles in her shoulders and back.
Paco signaled the other man and he grasped Jane's hips and lifted them from the bed. Paco pulled a thick cushion from beneath the bed and placed it under Jane's buttocks, raising her crotch obscenely above the rest of her body. Jane groaned. The position was uncomfortable, straining her back and making her feel more helpless than she had ever felt in her life. Paco and the other man stood at her feet, looking straight up her legs and at the quivering pink regions of her cunt now exposed by her widespread thighs. Jane shuddered as she saw Paco wet his lips, a tiny drop of saliva oozing from the corner of his mouth. He said something to the other man who turned and left the room.
Paco moved to the large bed and began taking off his clothes. He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off, the odor from his scarred, misshapen body wafting across to permeate Jane's nostrils. She felt nausea grip her belly as she realized that this stinking, grotesque man was going to violate her body. She shuddered and fought back the nausea that was threatening to bring everything in her stomach up to her throat.
She watched him sit on the edge of the bed and pull his shoes off, then stand and unbuckle his pants. Jane tried to pull her eyes away from him-he was so ugly, so grotesque, so horrible-but she couldn't. Her eyes were riveted to his scarred body. Paco's pants dropped to the floor and Jane's eyes dilated. Her nostrils flared and a scream caught in her throat when she saw his gigantic, rigid cock staring at her. The shaft was dark tan, purple veins standing out like ridges along it. The head was a gray-brown, tipped by a touch of pink, and inflated to a size Jane had never dreamed possible.
Involuntarily, Jane's mouth gaped open, the lips pulling back over her teeth. The scream, still caught in her throat, left a dry, parched tongue lolling about. My God, she thought, he's going to put that telephone pole up me! He'll kill me! He'll tear my insides out!
"Noooo!" It came, not as a scream but more of a low groan from deep within Jane's body.
Paco looked at the lush blonde body spread-eagled before him. The pink slit stretched wide under its covering of golden hair and her crotch angled to the ceiling. Her full, round tits with their red-pointed tips heaving as she gasped for breath tantalized him. The creamy white skin and pale golden hair framed against the black fur of the bed sent desire racing through his loins. Like most Latins, Paco's desire doubled at the prospect of fucking a blonde. And Jane was a true blonde, something he had seen only once before.
He took his rigid prick in his left hand and stroked it as he walked around the bed surveying the terrified girl. Her head followed his every move, her eyes unable to move from his swollen member. Paco knew that she was gripped in terror, and he was savoring every moment he made her suffer in anticipation. He was going to humiliate her, punish her, in every way he knew. She would never forget what he would do to her. Never! He would stuff his prick up her cunt until it came out her mouth. He would stretch that blonde cunt until it bled, pound his balls against her ass until it was black and blue. But all in good time. First he would make her beg to be fucked, and before that he would explore her body, let her know that she was his slave!
Without his shoes, Paco's limp was even more grotesque. He seemed to half-hobble, half-bounce from place to place. His right hand, held close to his body by the bad elbow, was used to balance himself against the edge of the bed. His left hand held his rigid cock, twelve inches of surging manhood, thick, inflated, the purple veins folding under his hand as he moved the skin back and forth. He stood at the end of the bed, holding his cock an inch or two above Jane's nose and stroking it while her terror-stricken eyes watched it in fascination. The pungent odor from his moist, glistening cock made Jane's nostrils flare, her throat constrict in an effort to hold back the nausea that again surged through her body.
Jane could tell he hadn't bathed in days. Sweat and dirt were caked in little patches on his chest, his arms and his legs. The odor was overpowering. She tried to stop breathing through her nose, but the foul smell permeated her entire body.
A thick, clear liquid began oozing from the large hole in the head of his prick. Paco ran his hand along the shaft faster, until the entire head of his cock was covered with small drops of the lubricating fluid. This was one thing he had planned for the gringo bitch and he couldn't resist the humiliation it would give her. He worked his hand furiously, building a light foam at the end of his inflated rod, and leaned forward to dip the head into each of her eyes and along the edge of her nose.
Looking down directly into her face, he could see small rivulets run slowly down from the corners of her eyes on either side. They dribbled like tears down the sides of her face, leaving slick, glistening tracks as they ran across her smooth white cheeks. Drops ran from the ridge of her nose down over the flared nostrils and to her pink lips. Then he thrust his hips forward and lodged the head of his cock in her ear, working the shaft with his hand and leaving a trail of thick come there.
Jane's whole body shuddered as she felt the sticky substance running over her face, in her ears, down her cheeks. She felt like she had just walked through a cobweb covered with thick, oozing glue, but there was nothing she could do to clean her face. He body arched and strained, but the bounds held her tight. Involuntarily, she opened her mouth to bite her hp. A drop of sticky come fell across her lip and onto her teeth. She moved her tongue to guard her mouth and tasted the salty, sickening Uquid that had oozed from his filthy cock.
"I'd rather be dead than this!" she screamed. "Why don't you kill me and get it over with? Please, kill me!"
"If I kill you," he said sarcastically, "it'll be with this!" He took his cock and slapped her cheek with its swollen head, leaving a trail of moisture as he glided it off and moved around the bed.
On the other side of the bed, Paco stopped for a moment and waved his cock against her ripe, red nipple, then grabbed her breast and cruelly kneaded it in his hand. The soft, white flesh gave under the pressure of his rough fingers as he squeezed her tit like he would a rubber ball. Jane gritted her teeth at the rough handling of her sensitive breast. The pain was mixed with excitement, a tingling of pleasure as she felt his sandpaper touch rub across her nipple. As suddenly as he began, Paco stopped. Grabbing the edge of the bed for support and balance, he hobbled to the end where Jane's small, delicate, pink feet were pointed at the ceiling.
He looked up between her legs at her exposed crotch and felt his pulse quicken. The pink lips of her cunt seemed to be calling to him. He hoisted his deformed body up on the bed and crouched on all fours as he crawled between her unresisting, milky-white thighs until his face was just inches from her raised cunt.
Jane watched him, looking between her breasts and over her raised abdomen. He was crouched on all four like an animal, his arms on the outside of her legs and his mouth directly over her vagina Watching him lick his lips and seeing trails of saliva run from the corners of his mouth made Jane want to vomit. My God, she thought, he's no more than an animal-a beast! She closed her eyes to shut out the vision of the drooling face just above her vagina.
"You'll open your eyes, gringo bitch!" he spit at her. "And you'll beg in a few minutes. Oh, yes, you'll beg!"
Paco let his eyes feast on her dry cunt, spreading the lips wide apart with his fingers. The saliva from his drooling mouth fell into the pink opening. Slowly, savoring the delicious smell of her ripe cunt, Paco lowered his head. His tongue darted out of his mouth and buried itself just below the lips of her pink slit. Paco licked, then drew his tongue back in his mouth to taste the sweetness of her sex. He darted his tongue out again, this time enjoying the tickling sensation as his rough tongue ran through the soft blonde hair of her pussy. Then, slowly and methodically, Paco began running his tongue along the inner edges of her lips. He flattened his tongue and lapped her whole cunt with one long stroke, much like a cow licks salt. On the third stroke that way, he felt her clitoris come to life. The little button of flesh quivered at first, then grew and became erect. With the tip of his tongue he began teasing the end of her hard clitoris. His head moved forward and his lips sucked the seat of her desire, drawing the warm soft folds deep into the hot cavern of his mouth, all the while his tongue continuing its relentless attack against the straining pink bud of her sex.
Jane tried to make her body rigid at first. She wanted to paralyze herself, freeze what he was doing out of her mind and away from her body. Then, despite herself, Jane felt her body begin to respond as his hot, searing tongue moved inside her. She felt him pull the outer flesh of her vagina into her mouth, his teeth nibbling at her clitoris.
"Ooh!" she moaned as he pulled her clitoris between his rough lips and began sucking hard on it. Jane groaned huskily from deep in her throat as his hot tongue worked its way up and down her narrow wet slit, starting at the lower belly and pressing its way down, down over the elastic -rimmed opening of her clasping vagina and into the crevice of her flexing, strained buttocks where it stopped momentarily to do a wet probing of the tight brown throbbing hole. "Ooh!" she gasped as she felt his tongue dart in and probe her asshole and then shoot up over her skin and skin into the depths of her vagina.
She felt her crotch flex upward to open wider as she was now gripped in a passion she couldn't believe. All thoughts of how repulsive Paco was flew from her mind and the only thought she had was of his swift, searing, darting tongue and what it was doing to her! Her body had become a boiling mass of desire.
Paco worked hungrily, feeling her soft, golden pubic hair brushing against his cheeks as he darted his tongue in and out of her cunt. He knew he had the gringo bitch hot now! Her juices were pouring into her cunt, swirling around his tongue and dripping out onto his chin. In a minute, when she was almost there, he'd have this proud bitch begging him for release. He increased his tempo, rubbing his upper hp against her erect and quivering clitoris while his tongue worked deep into her wet pussy. Then he stopped.
Jane was in agony. She groaned and her body strained against the ropes that bound her.
Having her beg shot lust through Paco's body. His cock jerked, rubbing its blood-inflated head against the soft black fur cover on the bed. He dipped his head and let his tongue taste the salty sweetness of her open cunt once more. His tongue thrust deep inside her yawning crack, bringing a low guttural moan from deep in her throat. "Ah!" she moaned over and over. He could feel the wet flesh slip moistly along his extended tongue as the walls of Jane's invaded vagina opened and closed in a loud sucking noise. He felt her muscles tighten and try to pull his tongue deeper and deeper into her well of passion. It felt as though the nibbling, hard-lined mouth would pull his tongue out by its very roots and devour it alive! The end of his nose was mashed hard against her tiny pink clitoris, the lips of her cunt pulling over it as he dug deeper and deeper with his hot probing tongue. The juices of her lust filled his mouth and nostrils, cutting his breath off.
Jane was completely lost in her passion. No other thought than to have him deeper and deeper inside the fire he had created between her legs crossed her mind. She had never known that anything like this could be so demanding, so all consuming! Her flesh was on fire, and the boiling juices in her vagina were surging through her body. Disregarding the pain to her muscles and back, she arched her body to bring him even further inside her. Suddenly he stopped.
"Pleaseee! Don't Stop! Lick me! Lick me!" she cried.
Paco pulled himself up on his knees, a grinding aching pain searing into his entrails from the heavy sack which cased its two bloated pears below his inflated cock. He was so hot he couldn't contain himself any longer. He had to fuck this gringo bitch now or he would dump his load on the bed.
"Shut up!" he growled at her as he positioned himself above her. "If you want that fire in your greedy cunt put out, beg me to do it with this!" He rubbed the tip of his giant cock against the lips of her cunt, running the head up to her clitoris and pressing against it with a slight thrust of his hips.
"Do you want to be fucked, bitch!"
His language, his odor, his grotesque body, everything about him repelled Jane. But she had to have it in her. The fire was too hot! His tongue had done its work well. Her belly screamed for him. She had to have him!
"Yes! Yes! Please! Now, do it now!"
Paco grinned at her and ran his pulsating prick up and down her narrow slit. Her lips seemed to grab at it, trying to pull it inside her. It was all he could do not to lunge forward now and impale this squirming bitch on his aching cock. But first he wanted to tease her, punish her for the shit she had poured on him with her snotty looks and attitude at the airport. She'd beg, all right! And then he would split her wide open!
In the small room behind the mirror, Dr. Gorman, Avillo Guzman, Consuela and Mark watched Paco torture Jane Horner.
"It'll take her a few days to recover when Paco gets through with her," said Dr. Groman, a smile creasing his face.
"Yes, I expect we'll have to let her rest for a day or two after this," Guzman replied. "He's only begun, though. After she has the full treatment, I don't think we'll have any trouble with her at all."
"Have you made up your mind what we'll do with her?" Gorman asked.
"We'll talk about it tonight."
Consuela, imagining herself on the bed in Jane's place, had been rubbing her thighs together to try to quell the itch that had grown in her loins. A minute before, she had placed her hand in Mark's lap. Now she had his erect cock in her hand, rubbing it as they watched Paco run his giant member up and down Jane's cunt. She reached down, pulled the hem of her skirt up to her waist and guided Mark's hand between her hot thighs. Consuela never wore panties-it was a rule that she must always be ready for sex-and Mark's hand grasped a wet, quivering cunt. She scooted forward on the seat and forced his finger deep inside her. Her hips began jerking up and down as she watched the two bodies on the bed beyond the glass, all the time her hand rubbing Mark's cock.
Consuela's passion grew to where she could no longer stand it. She reached out and grabbed Mark by the hair, roughly pulling him to the floor and forcing his head between her legs. Using both hands on the back of his head, she forced his head against her mound until her dripping wet cunt covered his face.
"Eat it, Mark! I'll do the same for you later! Eat it. Please eat it!"
Her eyes became glassy as Mark's tongue worked furiously in her hot cunt. She let out a little cry as she saw Paco draw his hips back for a lunge at Jane's wide open cunt.
Jane's body was squirming on the bed, her hips trying to thrust upward and impale her on the cock that was teasing her. Paco looked down at her, his hatred and passion almost equal. Here's a cunt that really needs punishing, he told himself. All right, I'll punish her. I'll fuck her until she bleeds, until she can't even walk!
He pushed the inflated head of his throbbing cock into the quivering entrance to her vagina, and with a mighty lunge sunk it as deep as it would go.
"Aagh!" she screamed as the searing instrument ripped into her hot flesh. It was only then that Jane remembered the size of Paco's monstrous rod. Tears flowed from her eyes as she felt the walls of her vagina expanding to try to hold the surging cock inside her. It felt like her skin was ripping, bit by bit. The pain shot through her body and Jane was certain she was going to die. This must be worse than what a woman feels when she gives birth. Babies aren't as big as that penis in me now!
"NO! Noo! I can't take it! No! Stop! Pull it out! You'll kill me! Ohh! Please!"
Hearing her beg for mercy was music to Paco's ear. He looked down and saw that his cock had only been able to intrude her cunt by at the most two inches. Wiggling his hips and thrusting in jabs, he pushed it another inch inside her. He could feel the hot sucking flesh of her cunt wrapping itself around his cock, pulling and squeezing. He pushed forward another inch, giving her no quarter. Her hips went into convulsions, pushing, jerking, bending in a giant effort to free herself from the impalement. Paco lifted himself to a position where he could see his giant member invading her, the lips of her cunt stretched to the bursting point. A little trickle of blood mixed with come made a pink trail oozing from her cunt around his shaft. It went over his huge balls and down the cheek of her ass, giving Paco a great feeling of pleasure to know she was truly suffering under his onslaught against her proud pussy.
Paco reached forward and took a bright red, taut nipple in his left hand, kneading it between his thumb and forefinger while he continued moving his surging rod in and out of the channel he had wedged in her cunt. Then, with a mighty heave, he fell on her, thrusting with his hips as hard as he could. His cock seemed stuck for a moment, and then it lunged into her so that he could feel the soft pubic hair on the lips of her vagina caressing the base of his shaft.
"Uugghh!" she grunted as the hot probe was forced into her to the hilt. He's ripped out my entire insides, she thought! It must be in my belly now! As he began a slow sawing motion, pulling his cock out to where just the tip was sunk in her hole and then ramming it back to the very hilt with all his might, Jane thought she would faint. The pain was so intense every muscle in her body ached. It felt like the roll of skin just below the head of his cock was tearing the walls of her vagina each time it moved in and out.
Paco was teasing her now, running his giant prick up and down slowly, feeling every inch of her cunt rub against it with every stroke. His huge balls bounced against her ass with a loud slapping noise as he increased his tempo. The nails of his fingers dug into her soft breasts as he tightened his hold and used the tit as a handle to give him more leverage.
Gradually, the pain gave way to a new sensation in Jane's tortured body. The pain was still there, but now it was mixed with a something inside her demanding release. His cock probing deep into her belly had touched off a new chain of desire in Jane. Each time he cruelly rammed the tip of his rod against her cervix, it felt better. She couldn't understand it. It still hurt, almost unbearably, but now she wanted it to hurt. When Paco came down, placing his upper torso on top of her breasts, his pelvis ground against her enraged clitoris, sending a quiver of delight all through her body.
Paco felt her respond, her hips swaying slightly and her breath coming quicker. He puUed himself up on her body and began pounding his swollen cock to her relentlessly.
"Ohh! Ooh! God!"
"You like to fuck, gringo bitch?"
"Harder! Do it harder! Hurt me!"
The control Paco had held so long left him. His hips flew above Jane's body, his balls flapped against her ass, his cock sunk even deeper into her white belly, his body became a rampaging piston flailing against her exposed, golden mound. A grunt escaped from his throat. He leaned down, forced his mouth on hers and jabbed his tongue deep into her throat. His breath was foul, but Jane's body was beyond reaction. She was all consumed with the fire deep inside her belly, and her only thought was to satisfy the demand eating away her insides.
"Sweet Jesusss!" she cried as she felt him explode inside her, his cock spurting white, hot come all through her. Her own climax came with a gushing flow of her lust juice flowing down his shaft and over his balls, soaking the insides of her thighs, running down her crevice and wetting her anus and falling on the pillow below her buttocks.
"It looks like Miss Horner is more passionate than we thought!" said Dr. Gorman, watching every move through the glass and listening to every grunt and groan over the speaker.
"Indeed!" replied Guzman. "Most of the women I've seen Paco fuck like that fail to climax. They're too repelled by him and the pain from that mammoth weapon of his is usually too much for them. There's no doubt that Miss Horner had an orgasm, though. She may suit our purpose even better than I thought!"
Mark was beyond wondering what that purpose was at this point. His face was still wet from Consuela's gushing climax, timed to be at the same moment she saw Jane and Paco reach theirs. He leaned back in his chair, Consuela perched on her knees between his spread legs pulling his rigid cock from his pants. He watched her take it in her hand and gently pull the skin down from the head. Seeing her gorgeous face, framed with the jet black hair cascading now to her shoulders, between his legs sent a thrill through Mark. Consuela ran her tongue across her ruby red lips, moistening them in anticipation of tasting the pale-skinned prick in her hand. Her tongue darted out, planting a kiss at the base of his shaft and then glided slowly upward until she wrapped it around the swollen head. She teased him by forcing the tip of her tongue down the narrow slot at the tip of his cock. Keeping it wedged there, she let her lips slide down and capture the head, sucking gently and pulling his entire cock into her warm mouth.
Mark, suddenly aware that he had been oblivious to everything, glanced through the glass. He was surprised to see that Paco had evidently untied Jane, turned her over so that her belly was on the cushion and her buttocks raised high in the air, and retied her hands and feet.
"Let's see how little Miss Horner likes this part of Paco's act!" Gorman said with a gleam in his eye. "This should literally tear her up!"
Guzman, intent on the action before him, missed Gorman's attempt at humor. Mark, Consuela licking his cock like a candy bar, was beyond caring.
Jane had been too spent to resist when Paco untied first her hands and then her feet and turned her over on the bed so that her breasts were pressed into the fur cover of the bed. Swiftly he tied her in a reverse of her old position and inserted the cushion under her pale white belly.
Now this gringo bitch will learn who's the master, he thought as he quickly went to the screen and selected a short whip. The handle was gleaming black leather, but the body of the whip was covered in a soft brown velvet. Senor Guzman had insisted he use this one if he decided to punish Jane Horner. Senor Guzman had told Paco that under no circumstances was her body to be marked. Paco knew the velvet whip well. He knew it wouldn't mark her skin, but it would leave no doubt in her mind about what Paco thought of her.
He positioned himself at the edge of the bed by Jane's side. His arm raised and he brought the whip down across her buttocks. Jane's body jerked from the stinging pain. Turning her head to the side, Jane saw Paco's arm raise and then come down fast. The sting was even worse this time, her whole body trembling from the pain as her soft flesh gave way to the demanding whip. Tears flooded her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks. Her body racked with a sudden sobbing that gripped her.
"Aargh!" Her scream goaded Paco on, his arm flying through the air and the whip flailing against her bare buttocks. He brought the whip down cruelly against her soft white skin, until her whole ass was a bright pink. He moved to the end of the bed and crawled up between her legs, flicking the velvet tip of the whip at her gaping cunt. "Aargh!" she screamed as the whip flicked into her cunt, tearing the tender skin and sending pains through her like shots.
Paco threw the whip to the side of the room and got on his knees. He rammed his erect cock into her cunt and sunk it to the hilt, pulled it back and rammed against her hard again. With his fingers moving frantically, he pulled her buttocks apart and began probing the tiny brown hole buried in her crevice. Bending down with his face against her ass, he darted his tongue at her anus. Then he dropped his face between the cheeks of her ass and licked the quivering hole, running his tongue inside her rectum and moistening the passage.
Pulling himself up, Paco climbed on top of her. He pulled his cock from the depths of her cunt, the head and shaft dripping from the wetness of her vagina. He took it in his hand and put it against the tight brown hole, then shoved down on her with a power few would have believed he possessed. The elastic ring of her tight asshole held for a moment, then popped open and allowed his surging weapon entrance to her belly.
It felt like his cock was going to rip right through her stomach and nail her to the bed. The pain was more intense than anything Jane had ever experienced. She fainted.
Paco was like a madman. His hips jumped up and down as he made his cock a giant piston ramming into the very depths of Jane's body. He watched blood spurt from the small ring which grapsed his suring prick. "Bleed, you bitch, bleed!" he muttered as he increased the speed and hardenss of his strokes. All of the hate, passion and frustration in Paco's being surged through his veins. This was the ass that had humped at him in the airport! This was the proud bitch who shuddered when he touched her! She'd remember this for a long, long time! Maybe this would teach her to treat other people like human beings! He drove deeper as he felt the head of his rod explode and spurt his juice up inside the proud gringo bitch.
When Mark saw Paco plunge his unbelievable weapon into Jane's ass, he closed his eyes and gave himself over to the electric sensation of what Coun-suela was doing to him with her voracious mouth. She had his balls in her hand, squeezing them gently as she plunged her head down on his surging shaft until her lips met his pubic hair at the base. Each time she pulled back, she wrapped her tongue around the shaft covering each inch of skin with a moist warmth. She felt his sack in her hand swell and she doubled her effort. Then the sweet warm juice she had waited for flowed into her mouth, warming her teeth and oozing down her throat.
Mark had had blow jobs before, but nothing like that! She sucked him dry, so dry he felt she would turn his toes inside out. He ran his fingers through her hair and opened his eyes.
"My God! That was something else!" he said.
"Just a sample, darling, we'll just have to have a little session together soon!"
Guzman interupted them. Coming to his feet, he pointed to the end of the room where Paco had dragged Jane's body to the floor of the tile bathroom.
"He's going to put on the finishing touch now!"
They all stood and watched Paco dump her on the floor and then stand over her. He took his limp prick in his hand and aimed it down at Jane's white body. A flow of hot, dark yellow urine came flooding down. It hit Jane's face and brought her to consciousness. She squirmed and tried to move out of the path of the pungent, steaming urine spurting at her. Paco followed her, aiming at every inch of her body and covering it with the foul-smelling yellow liquid. It was in her hair, streaming down her face, forming puddles between her breasts and on her belly. Paco kicked her legs apart and aimed straight into her cunt, then turned and left her lying on the floor as he gathered his clothes and walked out of the room.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Gray is a color. Or a mood. It's that undefined area between black and white. Gray is nothing. It has no form or substance. It just hangs there, ominous, threatening-above all, depressing. Mark hated gray. He liked everything orderly, definite. Black should be black, otherwise it lacked definition and was disorderly. It was the same with right and wrong, but he wouldn't fight that today. Not after last night. Last night was a time of clutching sheets, searching for a comfortable position, cursing his inability to sleep. Mark was confused; not a new condition for him, but one he absolutely despised. He would never have made a good sailor. He hated to tack, preferring to damn the wind and set a straight course from here to there.
"It must be the weather," he said aloud, although he was alone in his room standing by the window in his robe. It was still outside-and gray, a light charcoal gray. Not a leaf on the jacaranda tree by the window moved. Then, as he watched, the rain began. First a single drop hit the window pane, then another, then several, and soon the entire pane was speckled with tiny dots. He was about to comment on how silent the rain was when a clap of thunder shook the leaves and rattled the window pane. Now the water came down in sheets, a heavy, hard rain. Tree branches, heavy laden with water, bent toward the pound. Puddles formed on the lawn and water began gushing out of the drain pipes. A burst of lightaing, a clap of thunder and more rain. Gray.
Mark shaved, showered and dressed for the day, fighting his gray mood with silent pep-talks and gay whistling. Only once did he think of Jane Horner, alone in the Game Room with the rain beating down on the building, and he pushed that from his mind with a stern warning to himself. "For Christ's sake," he said to no one in particular, "don't worry about her! Worry about yourself, you're the one who's disintegrating! Before you know it, you'll be a dues-paying member of the Establishment."
The rain stopped as quickly as it began, and by the time Mark came downstairs the sun was shining. Knowing it was too wet for the gazebo, Mark headed for the main dining room where he found Gorman and his employer enjoying a cup of coffee.
"Good morning, Mark. How did you like our little shower?"
"Good morning, Senor Guzman-Doctor. Is this the beginning of the rainy season?"
"I wouldn't flunk so," Guzman said with a smile. "I think you could call this just a preview. The season should begin in another two or three weeks."
"Does it rain like this all the time in the rainy season?"
"Every day, but only for an hour or two. Usually in the late afternoons. Some years you can set your watch by the rain. It comes between four and five every afternoon," Gorman replied.
"Sit down and have some coffee, Mark," Senor Guzman said. "I'd like to hear what you've found out on that assignment I gave you."
Mark poured himself a steaming cup of coffee, picked up two sweet rolls and sat down at the table.
"Well, as you know, I put calls in to Pete and Ed the day before yesterday. Then I spent all day yesterday going over some of the files and news clippings we have. I found some interesting things and I put in another call to Pete. He worked some minor miracles and got back to me last night."
"And what's it look like?" Guzman asked, obviously anxious for Mark to come to the point. "Is the news good or bad?"
"That all depends on how you look at it. First of all, the organization is quite informal. Headquarters are in Omaha, and everywhere else it operates out of people's homes-the volunteers'. They don't have regular meetings. Jane Horner and a man named Reverend James tour a number of states making speechs to P.T.A. groups, church groups, and even some civic organizations. The thing that binds them all together is a newsletter put out monthly by the headquarters in Omaha. A woman named Mildred Thatcher writes that.
"It seems the operation centers around the organization putting pressure on civic groups and even law enforcement agencies to crack down on marijuana. This extends to a constant pressure put on congressmen and senators, which I gather is an effort to halt any legalization of marijuana.
"The primary effort, however, is directed at the high school and college level. The organization publishes leaflets and leans pretty heavy on just about everybody...."
"Pardon my interruption, Mark, but don't they claim that pot has contributed to increased sexual activity among the younger generation?" Guzman asked.
"Right! The morality bit is one of their big scenes. Miss Horner seems to believe the entire sexual revolution is a direct result of pot. She claims the minute a kid lights up a stick he gives up morality and immediately becomes a sex maniac. Lately, though, I note that she has soft-pedaled this some. Offhand I'd say the scientific reports showing no relationship between sex and marijuana have armed some of her audiences with questions she couldn't answer. Like all crusaders, she has a deft way of avoiding facts that don't fit the pitch she's pushing."
"You say 'soft-pedaled,' do you mean they've stopped using this particular put-down?" Guzman asked.
"Not entirely, no. A year or so ago they were leaning hard and heavy on sex and marijuana. Every pot party was an orgy, and they had the P.T.A. and civic groups on the rampage. Business was booming because sex is something everybody can get really whipped up over. Scientists and doctors laughed at this and magazines began printing some of the factual reports.
"Even though Miss Horner's whole concept is based on Bible Belt emotionalism, she felt she had better move to safer ground. So the pitch changed. Right now they harp on marijuana leading to narcotic addiction, anti-social behavior and crime, personality disintegration, and that good old standby, brain damage. The sex bit is still there, but it's no longer the central theme. And personally I think they've lost a lot of steam as a result."
"Do you think legahzation is eminent, Mark?" Gorman asked as he stood up and walked over to pour himself another cup of coffee.
"Hardly, Doctor," replied Guzman. "Politcally, legalization is impossible. The United States is too far committed through the United Nations and all. The point Mark is making is that the public may adopt a more tolerant attitude. Right, Mark?"
"Oh, I think that's already happened! The more the truth is known about pot, the less excited the public is about the whole issue."
"And that's as dangerous for us as legalization," said Guzman.
"Senor Guzman, I wish you'd explain that to me. On the surface it would appear to me that the more tolerant people become toward marijuana, the better our business will be. I need to understand your reasoning if I'm to do a proper job for you."
Senor Guzman leaned back in his chair and gazed steadily into Mark's eyes. Mark had brought this up before, and he knew it was time to educate his youngest staff member. He had to leave for Mexico City shortly, and a conference with Gorman was necessary before he left. So his chat with Mark would just have to wait.
"All in good time, Mark," he said. "We'll have a long strategy meeting this week. Right now, though, what did you find out about staff meetings in Miss Horner's organization?"
"Well, as I said, they don't have regular meetings. The people are all volunteers, non-paid, and scattered over a many-state area. There is a meeting scheduled, though. Twenty women and ten men are due in Omaha next month for a conference. Miss Horner is to give a report on the conference in Mexico City, and the organization is paying the transportation and lodging for those coming in. Without her, I doubt there will be a meeting."
"Hmm!" Guzman said, lost in thought and stroking his chin for a moment. "Are there area meetings?"
"Yes. In most big cities they try to meet on the second Thursday of each month, but these are poorly organized and attendance is not steady. If Miss Horner's in town to address them, they have a good turn-out."
"It might just work, then. Tell you what, Mark. Call Pete and have him find out exactly how many of these meetings there are. I need a fairly accurate count, give or take say ten per cent. Just the major ones, not the one-horse towns. Get the dates they're scheduled to meet next month, and get addresses. Find out where they meet and who's in charge. Okay?"
"I'll get on it right now, if you want."
"Good! I'll be in Mexico City until tomorrow, but let's plan to go over all of this when I get back."
Mark finished the last of his coffee and left for the communications room. Senor Guzman seemed lost in thought for a moment, and Gorman interrupted him with a question.
"Want to tell me what's on your mind?"
"I'm not sure yet. A lot actually depends on you, Doctor."
"Oh?"
"I have several ideas," Guzman continued, becoming very business like. "Their success depends on a good many factors-perhaps too many. A little while ago the senator from Michigan made the statement he had been brainwashed by Washington about conditions in Vietnam...."
"It was the governor, Governor Romney," Gorman interrupted.
"No matter. Because he was running for president, everyone scoffed at this. What I want to know is could it have happened?"
Gorman smiled. His employer, usually so well informed on everything, was definitely leading somewhere with all of this. He pulled a package of Delicados from his pocket, lifted one of the oval-shaped cigarettes from the pack, tapped it against the top of the teak table and lit it. The strong, acrid taste of the cigarette made his mouth rebel for a moment. In all these years he had never become accustomed to Mexican cigarettes. After the first puff he could endure them, but the first puff was always hell.
"Certainly you must realize," he said, "that all of that was politically inspired. What the governor meant was that he had been psychologically conditioned, fed propaganda so that his judgment would be clouded about what he saw."
"I know that, Doctor. What I'm asking is if it's possible to brainwash someone, especially in a relatively short period of time."
Gorman now saw the direction the conversation was taking, but he wanted Guzman to take it there. It was, after all his idea, so let him explore it.
"That depends on a great number of things, the individual, the circumstances, the amount of time and the objective," he replied.
"Given the average person and the average circumstances, what time are we talking about?"
"Again, it'd depend on a number of factors. The North Koreans, in their little skirmish with the Americans in the fifties, had some amazing successes. In some cases they achieved their goals in from three to six months. I'd say the average would take closer to a year, though. I'm assuming that you're talking about working against the individual's will and making a complete transformation with absolute reversal of attitude."
"Let's stop fencing, Doctor. I'm talking about Jane Horner. How long would it take you to turn her into a completely sensual person, something perhaps just a shade shy of a nymphomaniac?"
Gorman got up and walked to the window. He'd been expecting this, of course, and the idea of turning that luscious blonde into a sex machine appealed to him, excited him. He would have to handle Guzman with care so that he would not change his mind.
"That's a tall order, Avillo," he said. "It means a complete reversal of character."
"You saw her respond to Paco's tongue and prick as well as I did," Guzman said, his voice becoming slightly impatient and crisp.
"Admittedly that was a good sign. It showed that she is capable of responding to erotic stimulation, but that's only part of the story, you know. It's possible I could bring her around in six months, but I'd say it might be closer to a year."
"How about ten days?"
Gorman swung around to face his employer. His first reaction was that he must be joking, but he saw that Guzman's face was perfectly serious. The eyes were set in a cold stare, and not even a trace of a smile was on his lips.
"Impossible!"
"Why?"
"Look, I can see you're quite serious, but so am I. It just can't be done, not even with physical torture."
"Her body must not be marked!"
"It can't be done in under six months! Probably longer." Gorman began pacing the area in front of the window, trying to consider every aspect of the problem his employer had presented him. "Electric shock. Yes, I suppose I could use shock; find her current attitudes, begin indoctrinating her with new ideas, enforce the indoctrination with various forms of punishment, set up a concentrated schedule...."
"How far would you be in say two weeks?"
"I might have her to the sex slave stage, maybe even demanding it."
"Would she do anything and everything?"
"Perhaps."
"Even participate in an orgy?"
"Yes, I think so. I'm not sure, you understand. I have no idea how she'll react or the problems I'll encounter. Whatever it was, we'd have to contain everything here. She couldn't be sent outside, if that's what you're thinking. No matter how much I accomplished, it wouldn't be firmly enough established in two weeks. She very well might rebel the moment she was away from me."
"Well, that answers my next question. Doctor, let's make sure we understand one another. I don't want Jane Homer to be an automaton, a zombie who goes through various acts like a trained seal. She must look and act normal. I want her to put on a sex circus like it was the most natural, and the most enjoyable, thing in the world for her. Her body must not be marked in any way, is that clear?"
"Perfectly clear." The Doctor's answer was automatic. His mind was already racing through the myriad of problems he would have to overcome to accomplish this feat. He knew it could be done, but the time element bothered him. "I only hope you know just how difficult this'll be. Why must it be in two weeks? Can't we take several months and do it right?"
"Because, my dear Doctor, whatever we do with Miss Homer must be done soon if we are to benefit by it. Right now we have the advantage. Nobody knows she's missing. Once they do, a great part of our advantage is missing. The critical time comes with the conference in Mexico City, and I'll have to come up with something to deal with that. Whatever I do can only buy us a very short amount of time-a week to ten days at best. And there'll be some mechanical problems, which I suspect with take a good part of that time."
"Avillo, just what are we going to do with Miss Homer?"
Before Guzman could reply, Consuela walked into the dining room. She was wearing a bright green bikini, as if she was headed for the swimming pool, but she went directly to the sideboard and poured herself a cup of coffee. Her large ripe breasts were barely contained in the thin piece of material, the nipples clearly defined as they pressed out. Her luxurious growth of pubic hair padded the bright V the material made between her thighs, and hairs stuck out on each side. A bright green ribbon held her hair back, and her high heel shoes were dyed to match her suit. The color of green made a startling contrast to her olive skin.
"Am I interrupting something?" she asked.
"No," Guzman replied, standing and preparing to leave. "We were finished for now. I have to go to the city today and I'm late now. Going for a swim?"
"Perhaps. I thought it might be nice after the rain. By the way, do you think the Horner girl is recovered enough for me to have a little session with her? I haven't had a blonde like that in a long while."
"Doctor?" Guzman said, turning to Gorman.
"Yes. Yes, definitely. I think it'd be an excellent overture! Don't be the least bit gentle with her, Consuela. I think she should be tied down for you."
"That suits me just fine. In fact, that was just what I was thinking. I doubt she'd stand still for some of the things I have in mind."
"Again," Guzman interjected, "I must warn both of you. Miss. Horner's body is not to be marked!"
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jane thought of escape. A hundred times she thought about how she could get away from these insane people who were tormenting her, and each time she rejected the idea. She was alone in a foreign country, alone in a small town far from anything. Even if she got beyond the maddening door at the end of the room, how far would she get? She had no idea where she was. She wouldn't even know what direction to run. And she had no clothes. How far would a naked girl be able to run in a strange land? Escape wasn't practical.
Survival was Jane's answer. She must survive! At all costs she had to live through this. She had no idea why she was being held prisoner, or what her tormenters planned to do with her, but she was certain she could survive. Did they intend to kill her? Jane didn't think so. All of this had been carefully planned. Her meeting Connie had been no accident, of that she was certain. And if they had wanted to kill her, they could have done that much more easily. Just hire somebody to shoot her in Omaha, or even in Mexico City. No, she was certain they weren't going to kill her. At least not yet. Not until they had accomplished what they had set out to do. But what was that? What could they possibly want?
It was the will to survive that had pulled her up to off the floor covered with Paco's foul-smelling urine. She had wanted to die right there on the floor, but her will wouldn't let her. She'd forced herself into the shower, saying over and over again, "This, too, shall pass." That was something she had learned in the orphanage. When life became absolutely unbearable, when she thought she couldn't go on for another second, she quoted the Bible: "This, too, shall pass." And it always did! Whatever it was passed and life went on.
Two days now! She counted the days by the meals they brought her. Three times a day a maid opened the door and set a steaming tray on the table at the entrance. The food was delicious, all gourmet dishes excellently prepared and served. She wasn't hungry, but Jane forced herself to eat everything they brought her. She had to survive, and she would need every ounce of her strength.
Her body had mended from Paco's assult. That was six meals ago, and Jane felt she was completely recovered. At the beginning, the pain in her rectum was unbearable. She had to he on her stomach, and she couldn't walk without great pains shooting through her body. The first time she went to the bathroom, the bowel movement almost killed her. "This, too, shall pass. I shall overcome!" she kept reminding herself.
At first, the bareness of the room drove her crazy. There was nothing to read, nothing to do to pass the time between the meals! She investigated every corner of the room, even looking under the beds. When she looked behind the screen in the corner and saw the rows of whips and a number of artificial penises hanging on the wall, she recoiled in horror at the thought of how these instruments of torture were used on people. Then, after a while, she looked at the array of sex devices calmly, running her hands over each item to remind herself how desperate her situation really was. The penises fascinated her. Each was very life-like, a soft plastic, textured like skin, covering the outside. Some were complete with sacks attached, molded to give the appearance of testicles. Jane saw that these could be filled with liquid, and the liquid could be shot through the penis to come out the tiny hole at the head.
There were other things, which, even after studying them at length, Jane couldn't imagine their use. A ring with what appeared to be little rubber spikes all around the outer edge, a ball, smaller than a ping-pong ball, which seemed to be partially filled with something like mercury, a number of electrical vibrators with various attachments, an assortment of feathers, plastic plugs which graduated from an inch to about three inches in diameter, and a group of bamboo canes standing against the wall all fascinated her. What kind of people used things like this?
Jane began doing body exercises to keep her muscles in shape. She started tackling the problems of her organization, seeking ways to make changes that would reduce the load she had to carry. She had to force herself to concentrate on the business. It seemed so far away, so remote. And somehow Jane had lost interest. For the first time in her life the organization no longer mattered to her. She told herself she must concentrate on survival, that the business would come later, after she survived whatever ordeals were before her. Everything she thought, everything she did must be keyed to her survival. "This, too, shall pass!"
She was asleep on the large circular bed when the two men came into the room With her nervous system tuned to any sound from the door, Jane came awake with a jolt. She sat up and watched them move to the wall and pull out one of the long black beds. They placed it in front of the mirror and then approached her. Grabbing her hands and feet roughly, they lifted her and carried her to the bed. Panic gripped her and Jane tried to fight them, but they held her tightly and forced her into the same spreadeagled position on the bed. Her hands and feet were bound the same as before.
The men looked at her helpless body, their eyes roving over her creamy white breasts with their proud red nipples pointing at the ceiling and the pink lips of her fully exposed cunt glistening through the golden pubic hair that crested her mound. They laughed, and they said things to each other Jane couldn't understand. Then one of the men, the taller of the two, cruelly ran his middle finger up Jane's cunt. He made several savage strokes and then pulled it out, raising it up under his companion's nose They both smelled the moist finger, laughed and walked out of the room.
It seemed like an eternity to Jane. She knew she was going to be put through another torturous experience with Paco and his cock that belonged to a horse, but why were they making her wait like this? She felt a shudder run through her body when the noise of the door opening reached her ears. She closed her eyes to blot out another look at that grotesque body. He can do what he wants to my body, but I won't look at him, she thought.
"Hello, Jane darling. How're you feeling today?"
It was Connie's voice! Jane's eyes came open with a start. She saw Connie standing beside her, looking down, her beautiful eyes strangely animated. She had on the briefest bikini Jane had ever seen. It barely covered her nipples, and it failed to cover all of the hair between her legs. Jane started to cry out to Connie to help her, but caught herself in time. A lot of good that'd do! Connie was the one who had lured her here, drugged her and made her a prisoner.
"Where am I?" Jane's voice pleaded.
"Oh, haven't they told you yet? Why, Jane dear, you're a guest in Cuernavaca."
"Guest! I'm a prisoner, and you know it!"
"Well, I suppose it's all in how you look at things."
"Connie, what're they going to do to me?"
"Darling, I just work here. You'll have to find that out from the boss. You'll meet him when he's ready to see you."
Jane's mind worked quickly. It was obvious that Connie knew what this was all about. She was in it up to her ears, but she wasn't going to tell Jane anything. Survive! Play along with Connie. Do anything, but make her tell you what this is all about. Flatter her, do anything.
"I don't see how you can go swimming when you know they're going to torture me!"
"You like my bikini?"
"It's lovely, and you have a gorgeous body."
"I'm glad you like it, dear. I was just thinking the same about yours. Such lovely breasts! And that blonde hair on your little cunt is just darling."
Consuela reached out and ran the tips of her fingers over the sensitive tips of Jane's breasts, letting her nails circle and flick against the nipples. She moved her hand and trailed her fingers down across Jane's soft, white belly, the soft touch making Jane's body quiver. Almost absently, Consuela's fingertips ran through the soft, golden pubic hair covering Jane's exposed mound. They traced the lines of her slit, moved along her inner thighs and then back to dip just inside the slightly spread lips and moisten themselves in Jane's juices.
Jane's mind raced back to the orphanage, to Sylvia and the things they did to each other. Sylvia's hand, her magic fingers making Jane feel so good. And the beating! She'd never seen Miss Hobbs so mad as when she caught them playing with each other that way. She pulled Sylvia out of the bed and began beating them both with her bare hands. Jane remembered crouching, waiting for the next blow and trying to protect her face with her hands. And they came, blow after blow. And then the cold shower, her body trembling as the ice cold water covered every inch of her skin. She never saw Sylvia again. They moved her somewhere, but nobody knew where.
"Connie, please don't! That's not nice." Jane realized how ridiculous it sounded even before it was off her lips.
"Oh, I think it's very nice. And so will you, darling, before I finish with you!"
Consuela unhooked her bra and let it drop to the floor, her heavy breasts quivering as they fell free. Her nipples were hard and pointed straight out. Taking one in her hand, Consuela bent down and rubbed her erect nipple against Jane's breast. Jane felt a response run through her helpless body as Consuela pressed her nipple hard into Jane's.
"Please don't, Connie. Please!"
"Shut up, you stupid bitch! You talk too much. I'll find a better use for that mouth of yours later, but shut it now! I'll do what I want to you, and you're hardly in any position to stop me."
"But, Connie...."
Consuela raised her arm and brought a stinging slap across Jane's face.
"When I said shut up, I meant it!"
Jane felt two tears fall down her cheek, her eyes watering from the vicious slap. Survive! She gritted her teeth and looked into Consuela's eyes. An excited animation she saw there frightened her. Her whole body shuddered as she saw Consuela's tongue dart out and run across her lips. Ugh, Jane thought! She looks like a beast wetting her lips over some victim she's trapped. Suddenly it dawned on Jane that she was the trapped victim about to be devoured!
She watched Consuela slip her fingers under the elastic and pull the bottom of her suit down. She pulled it below her knees and then wiggled her body until it fell to the floor. Jane's eyes were fastened on the spot where Consuel'a legs joined. She had never seen so much hair. It was jet black and very curly, and it looked like a large bush growing between her smooth, olive-toned legs! The black mass was both ugly and beautiful at the same time.
"Don't worry, darling, you'll get a taste of it," Consuela said, noticing where Jane's gaze was fixed. "I'm going to give you a very special kind of facial, with lots of cream, later on!"
She reached out with both hands and covered Jane's breasts, kneading them gently and tweaking the nipples between her thumb and forefinger. A smile touched the corners of her mouth as she saw Jane's body begin to respond. Jane's breath came a little faster, and the red, ripe nipples grew taut in Consuela's grasp. She concentrated on the two strawberries in her hands, twisting them, pulling them, squeezing them, and flicking them back and forth between her nimble fingers. Dropping to her knees beside the bed, Consuela leaned over Jane's helpless body and darted her moist tongue at the erect buds between her fingers. She held Jane's left nipple between her fingers so that the tip was extended above them. Then she ran her tongue over the tip, pulling, pushing and finally sucking it between her eager lips. Releasing her grasp, she pulled the entire nipple into her mouth, nibbling the sweet edge between her teeth. As her teeth held it captive, she ran her tongue over it, fluttering like the wings of a butterfly.
Jane fought the awakening sensuahty of her body. She forced herself to think of anything except what was happening to her. She bit her tongue as her body betrayed her, giving itself over to the excitement Consuela was bringing to her. When she felt Consuela's mouth on her breast, Jane's body involuntarily arched upward to offer more to those voracious lips and that searing tongue. What was the matter with her? Why did she react to these terrible things they did to her?
"Getting a little hot, darling? You have a sweet tit. Now let's see how that little blonde cunt is."
Consuela crawled over Jane on the bed and positioned herself between Jane's legs. She ran her hands up and down Jane's white thighs, the soft skin thrilling to her touch. Leaning forward, she planted a moist kiss on the inside of Jane's knee, letting her tongue slowly trail along the creamy surface of Jane's thigh. Just before she reached the gaping slit, she moved her head to the other side and planted a long series of moist kisses along the other thigh. This time she let her tongue trace the edges of Jane's golden crested mound. Using her fingers, Consuela spread the lips and exposed the pink flesh of Jane's cunt to her view. The small clitoris was erect and quivering. She ran her tongue along the inside of the widespread lips, down into the deep crevice and around the brown button between her cheeks, back up to the lips and clitoris, and then let it run in fast little circles at the entrance to Jane's vagina. With one quick dart she sank her tongue deep into Jane's cunt, savoring the musk-scented juices of Jane's passion which were already flowing.
"Oohh!" Jane sighed. Her body arched and seemed to pull Consuela's tongue even deeper inside her. She rotated her hips to feel that searing tongue sweep around the walls of her excited cunt.
Consuela cupped Jane's hips in her hands and buried her face into the soft blonde hair between Jane's legs. She concentrated her attack on Jane's defenseless clitoris, flicking it back and forth with her heated tongue and then sucking it into her mouth and scraping it back and forth between her teeth. Jane's juices were flowing freely now, and Consuela licked the sweet drops as they oozed from the excited cunt beneath her hungry mouth. The soft blonde hair tickling the edges of her tongue excited her, drove her to the point of wanting to devour Jane, chew her, swallow her and digest her. She cupped her tongue on Jane's hard clitoris, beginning a hard sawing motion up and down.
"Oohh! God! Oohh! Please!" Jane's body boiled over with passion. She watched Consuela, the raven black hair framed between her white thighs and the maddening tongue flicking up and down, slurping her cunt, torturing it, and Jane's hips went into a frenzied motion. Her head flopped from side to side in a wild swaying motion, the golden hair flairing out on the black fur with each toss. Jane's nostrils flared, her tongue extended, frantically trying to moisten her dry, swollen lips.
Consuela stopped, drawing her head up and resting her chin on Jane's swaying crotch.
"NO! Please don't stop! Pleasee! I can't stand it! Please don't stop!" Jane groaned, every ounce of her being straining against the ropes that bound her to the bed.
Consuela lifted her body and fell on top of Jane, her breasts cruelly mashing against Jane's, her hands diving into Jane's blonde hair so that she could control the bobbing head. She wiggled her hips, pulling her legs together and placing them between Jane's. Consuela squirmed until she felt her pelvis grind into Jane's, their pubic hair melting into a tangled mass. Pressing down and moving slightly to one side, Consuela managed to get her clitoris on top of Jane's.
Her cheeks and mouth were wet with Jane's hot juices. She could still feel the soft blonde hairs rubbing against her lips, the almost virginal cunt pulling her tongue deeper and deeper. She had filled her mouth with Jane's warm come, swirling it over and under her tongue, but keeping herself from swallowing it. The salty taste permeated her whole being and Consuela was hotter than she could remember being in a very long time.
Looking at the pure white skin framed on the bed beneath her, Consuela began a slow, circular grinding movement, using her knees for balance and rotating her hips. She was careful to keep their clitorises in direct contact and she bore down on Jane's relentlessly. Jane's blonde hair excited her. She ran her fingers through it as her movements became more instinctive, more demanding. I'll teach you what that cunt of yours is for, you blonde bitch, Consuela thought. I'll fuck you dry. I'll fuck you until you scream! She ground down, knowing from the sudden shudder in Jane's body that she was hurting her by rubbing her coarse pubic hair into the soft folds of Jane's cunt.
"Ooo...." Jane never finished. Consuela held her head tightly and pressed her lips against Jane's open mouth, her hot, probing tongue shooting deep into Jane's mouth.
Jane was dying. At least she thought she was. Consuela was hurting her, but it was an exquisite pain, all consuming, exciting and beautiful. Then she saw Consuela's mouth coming toward her, the sensuous lips moist with beads of her own come. She tried to move her head, but Consuela's hands held her like a vise. When their lips pressed together Jane felt an electric shock run through her. And then Consuela's searing tongue was in her mouth and there was a strange, salty taste flowing through her. She let her tongue meet Consuela's, and soon the two hot tongues were engaged in a battle for possession of Jane's mouth.
All the time, Consuela's cunt ground against Jane's, the mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelming them both. Almost simultaneously their bodies went rigid, their tongues locked in a fierce embrace, their pubic hair matted in a hopeless tangle.
"Aargh!"
"Uhmmhh!" Their grunts died in each other's mouth, their cunts gushed the sweet, salty, pungent liquor of lust. It inundated their pubic hair, matting it together like a light glue, ran down their thighs, flowed through the crevice of Jane's ass and flooded the black fur beneath them. Jane's whole body flowed with it, her muscles coming apart and forcing every inch of her skin to press into the black fur.
"Now wasn't that better than being fucked by that monster Paco?"
Jane didn't answer. She hated her body for having betrayed her, for giving into the lust of this foul beast above her.
"Wasn't it?"
"Why don't you wet on me like he did? Make it complete!" Jane spat at her.
"I may, darling-later. Right now, let's relax and catch our breath. Believe me, you'll need it for later!"
Jane stared at the ceiling, letting the soft silk folds carry her into another world. Was this really her, responding to these terrible things this way when her body should have been ice cold and sickened at the invasions of her private regions? What was this new sensation that flowed recklessly through her, this foreign feeling that excited her so? Was the devil tempting her flesh, and was she giving in to him? Tears filled her eyes and sobbing racked her body over the guilt she felt.
Gorman, watching and listening closely from behind the glass in the secret room, was pleased with what he saw. He was a little surprised to see Consuela's homosexual drive so strong. It was something he had never noted before. Of course, he wasn't certain it was her homosexual drive that made her attack Jane with such ferocity. Jane Homer was the type of girl everyone wanted to fuck, to punish, he reflected. She's such a sweet bitch she brings out the beast in all of us. Even Mark, he thought, remembering how savagely Mark had made love to her.
"Perhaps it's because she reminds us of all the things we have lost, our honesty, our innocence, our trust in others, our lack of sophistication," he muttered to himself. We see in her the things we're not, and we hate her for that.
"Bullshit!" he said aloud. "She's worse than we are because she hides behind that sweet facade while she screws everybody in sight, hurting them all she can, punishing them for not being as desperately frustrated and demented as she is!"
He saw Consuela signal him and he pressed a button that lowered an electrical outlet from the ceiling, the cord swaying obscenely just above Jane's white belly. He watched Consuela cross the room and then emerge from behind the screen with the little ball and the velvet whip in one hand and a vibrator in the other. She really's going to give Miss Horner a workout, he chuckled.
"What're you going to do to me?" Jane croaked as she watched Consuela approach with the things in her hands.
"Well, for one thing, you're going to eat my cunt, darling. Just like I ate yours."
"I won't do it! You can't make me. It's disgusting!"
"It wasn't so disgusting when I ate you, was it, darling? You'll do it, don't worry about that! But first we're going to warm you up a bit."
She laid the whip on the bed beside Jane's body and climbed between her legs. Reaching up, she attached the plug on the vibrator to the cord hanging from the ceiling. Then she spread the lips Of Jane's pink slit with her fingers and inserted the little ball deep into Jane's vagina, pushing it far inside with her fingers.
"What's that?" Jane cried, the foul invasion of her body sending a stabbing pain through her abdomen.
"It has some sort of a Chinese name I can't pronounce, darling, but it's filled with mercury. When you move your hips and grind away with your crotch, it'll move around in your cunt and drive you absolutely crazy. You'll love it!"
Consuela switched the vibrator on, the light hum of its motor breaking the silence in the room. Jane's eyes fixed on the little cup-like attachment. It was moving so fast it blurred before her vision. Consuela placed it on her thigh and a warm, pleasant feeling raced through Jane's legs, up through her belly and across her chest, making her nipples tremble and quiver. Consuela moved it along one thigh and then the other, pressing forward to the blonde crested mound which gaped before her. She let it move slowly down the outer lips covering the throbbing pink flesh of Jane's vagina, then slipped it under the lips and ran it around the outer edge of her now quivering cunt. Spreading the lips with her left hand, Consuela moved the vibrator until it was directly over her target. She dropped it on the defenseless clitoris and let it press down.
Jane's body went into spasms, jerking up and down, her hips swaying from side to side. It was too much for her! She was certain she would faint. The ball inside her was jiggling around, bouncing off her cervix and touching every inch of her deepest seat of passion. Her clitoris vibrating a thousand times a second! Her entire body felt like molten lead, fluid, hot! Again she felt her treacherous body begin climbing the steps of passion, lingering for just a moment on each new plane. Consuela stopped.
"Mustn't get too hot, darling. You have some eating to do!"
Leaving the vibrator on the bed between Jane's legs, Consuela let her body slide over Jane's until her feet were on the soft gray fur covering the floor. Consuela loved the fur rug. Sometimes, during orgies, she would run around the room allowing the soft fur to lovingly caress her toes. She stood for a moment watching the helpless body before her. Jane's hips had gone into an involuntary swaying motion, the small ball filled with mercury tantalizing the depths of her hungry cunt. Consuela smiled, knowing what delights the ball brought her. You're not as frigid as you make out, little Janie Horner, Consuela thought. She felt a quickening in her own loins while she watched Jane's full ripe breasts heave as the passion in her grew. The taut, ripe, red nipples seemed to beckon to Consuela as they crested the snowy white mounds and pointed straight at the ceding. Consuela lowered her head slowly and caught one of the luscious strawberries between her hungry, demanding lips. She pulled half of Jane's breast in her mouth, sinking her teeth into the trembling skin without breaking it, and then pulled her head upward and scraped her teeth along the sides until the nipple was caught between them.
"Oohh! That's so good, don't stop!" Jane said as Consuela lifted her head, completely freeing the sensual tit.
Consuela ignored her, picked up the velvet whip and moved around the bed until she was directly behind Jane's head. Placing her knees on either side of Jane's head, Consuela positioned herself above the delicious blonde's face.
Jane stared up into the mass of black pubic hair that now covered her entire vision. The thickly matted hair glistened with drops of moisture, making it appear like a damp glade in a dark forest. She saw the hungry lips of Consuela's cunt opening and closing slightly as the Latin girl contracted her muscles. Inside, pink flesh ringed with deep red ridges looked down at Jane. A pungent, overpowering odor drifted down to her nostrils, making them flare and quiver. It was an animal smell, charged with electricity and lust, a smell that both excited and repulsed Jane. She felt a drop of dew fall on her cheek, and then one on her lips, leaving a salty, spicy taste as her tongue caught it and ran it into her mouth.
"Now, Jane darling, you're going to eat me. And you'll eat me until I cover your face with come...."
"I won't do it!" Jane screamed as she watched the black bush lowering to cover her lips and nose. "I won't do it! You can't make me!"
"I think I can, and I think you will!" She brought her arm up and lashed the velvet whip across Jane's belly. "Let me feel those lips against mine, and sink that tongue deep into my cunt!"
Consuela dropped her crotch until she was completely covering Jane's mouth and nose. She began grinding her hungry vagina into Jane's face, her arm making the whip sing through the air as she demanded strict obedience. She planted five stinging lashes across Jane's belly and then sent it stinging into the unprotected flesh of her widespread thighs. There was a soft slapping sound as the velvet covered whip slashed across the creamy white flesh. Jane's cries were lost in the demanding cunt that engulfed half her face. Aiming directly between Jane's legs, Consuela brought the whip crashing down on the exposed pink flesh of her gaping cunt, the tip flicking inside and tearing at the membranes already throbbing with passion.
"Eat, you bitch! Eat!"
Her defenseless cunt with its portals wide open was lashed again and again. Jane opened her mouth to cry and found Consuela's rigid clitoris demanding entrance between her lips. She let her tongue dart out and run around the blood inflated member. Hot juice fell on her tongue and dropped into her mouth, its flavor reaching each tiny taste center, filling her mouth, her throat, her entire body. Jane realized that her mouth was as hungry as Consuela's cunt, yearning for and demanding the taste of sex. She let her tongue explore the fleshy region covering her face. The mass of wet hair was now grinding into her cheek, filling her nose, scratching her lips, slipping into her mouth. It ground against her tongue as she lavished the meal before her with a wild licking.
Jane ran her tongue around the edges, through the folds and under the lips of Consuela's cunt. She let it dip down and sink deeply into the hot, yawning cavern, pulling Consuela's boiling juices into her eager mouth.
"Sink it deeper and move it in slow circles!" Consuela commanded, reversing the whip in her hand and leaning forward to shove the knobbed end of the hard leather handle into Jane's vagina. She shoved it two inches into Jane's hot cunt and, with both hands on the hard handle, began moving it in and out.
The tiny ball deep within Jane was already driving her to a height of physical pleasure she had never before known. Now this thing that felt like a hard cock at the entrance to her vagina was causing her hips to pump in a wild frenzy. She had her nose up Consuela's cunt while she held the erect clitoris between her teeth and flicked the end of her tongue against it. Jane bobbed her head up and down, sinking her nose as deeply as she could. Consuela's hips began rotating and grinding the heavy black brush against Jane's mouth.
"Aagh!" Jane squealed as Consuela jabbed the whip handle deep inside her, touching the ball and causing it to bob back and forth against the walls surrounding her cervix. Jane sunk her teeth into Consuela's clitoris, biting down hard.
"Uugghh! That's it, eat it before it eats you, you bitch!" Consuela screamed, ramming the whip handle hard into Jane's belly. "Eat it good!"
The animal in Consuela took possession of her body as she felt her moment approaching. In a wild rage she cursed and ravaged Jane's helpless body with a savagery she had never realized was a part of her being.
"I'm coming! Oh, God, I'm coming! Eeooww!" she cried, her dam breaking and hot, milky come flowing from deep inside her. It gushed out, filling Jane's eager mouth, running over and down Jane's chin, into her nose and eyes, covering her neck and sticking in her golden hair.
Jane's release followed immediately, her lust juices flowing around the whip handle, streaming down the hard leather to cover Consuela's now limp hand with wet, sticky come. Jane felt it flow down the crevice between her buttocks, fill the puckered brown identation and rush in a river to the bed below. Her body arched as the vibrations of the ball made her climax last, and last, and last.
There was a loud slurping noise of a wet suction broken as Consuela lifted her body gingerly and slid off the bed. She loosened the knots that held Jane with nervous fingers and staggered out of the room, leaving her bright green bikini on the floor where she had dropped it.
Jane raised her hands in an effort to wipe some of the wetness from her glistening face, but her body was trembling so she couldn't control it. Trying to rise, she fell into a heap on her side, a nausea sweeping through her. She fell onto the floor and crawled into the bathroom where she vomited, her mind revolted by the betrayal of her body.
CHAPTER NINE
It began an hour later. Jane was on the large bed, relaxing her exhausted body after the rigors it had been through. She had purged her system in the bathroom, and now she was trying to purge her mind. "This, too, shall pass," was only a dim echo in the far reaches of her brain now. She had to force herself to cope with something new in her life, the sensual side of her personality which had emerged under the hands of her tormentors. She knew she should have been repulsed by all that happened to her, yet she had to admit that she had experienced great pleasure. For the first time she felt a complete sense of physical satisfaction, and for the first time she was facing her base, animal nature. All of this threw Jane's conscience into a turmoil.
"Hello, Jane. I'm Doctor Carl Gorman."
The voice shocked her. She had been so deep in thought she had not heard him enter the room. She watched a short, but very muscular man in his early fifties pull one of the chairs from against the wall and place it beside the bed near her.
"Are you the man who's keeping me here as a prisoner?" she asked quickly.
"No, I'm afraid I work here like the others, Jane. It's important that you and I become friends. We're going to be spending a great deal of time together from now on."
Jane stiffened, wondering what new torments this man was planning for her. Gorman noted the reaction and smiled.
"Relax, Jane. All we're going to do is talk for a while. Under the circumstances, I don't expect you to like me, but I'm going to ask you to trust me. Together we'll explore some interesting areas of philosophy, theology and practical living. Your mind is troubled about what you've been through, perhaps I can help you. If you cooperate, maybe I can even help you get out of this situation. Fair enough?"
Jane's entire being cried out to believe the man. She was physically exhausted and mentally confused. Here was help. Here was a way out! But a tiny warning bell rang in her mind. Why should he help her? He was one of those who were holding her here!
"Cooperate? I don't understand."
"As I explained, we'll have a series of long talks, friendly talks. We'll examine your life, try to bring it into focus and understand where you're going.
It's like a painting, you'll give me the color and design and I'll try to help you frame it. It's about time you understood yourself, and I'm going to try to help you. All you have to do is talk, be honest in your answers, be willing to discuss both sides of every idea, study some new thoughts and discuss them with me. Okay?"
Those were almost the words Doctor Bill had said to her! Could it be? No, it was impossible that Doctor Bill had anything to do with this. And yet...?
"It doesn't look like I have' much choice, does it?"
"You could have some more of what you've already been through."
"If you know anything at all about me, you must know that I would do almost anything to avoid that!"
"Well, Jane, that's what I want to do, learn all about you. Shall we begin?"
Jane felt uncomfortable in her nakedness. She asked if she could use Consuela's bikini to cover herself, but Dr. Gorman told her he would rather she didn't. He explained that she had a lovely body, a body that men enjoyed seeing, and that she should not be ashamed to show it.
Their conversation began with Jane relating her experiences as a child. The more she talked, the more relaxed she became, and when Dr. Gorman made no move to torture her exhausted body Jane's confidence returned. At first he let her ramble, the story of her life coming in bits and spurts as she relived her days in the orphanage. Then he began interupting her, asking revealing questions about her attitudes, her sexual fantasies, and even her masturbation. He discussed each phase with her objectively and Jane's confidence in him grew rapidly. She began to sincerely believe that he wanted to help her and not hurt her, and she in turn cooperated by telling him some of the deepest secrets of her life, things she had never told another living soul.
"So you resented your father and mother, even though you never knew them?"
"Yes, in a way, Doctor. You see, I was the fruit of their passion, but they refused to accept the responsibility that went with that passion. When you create something, you have a responsibility to that creation."
"And don't you think that this attitude has crept into your entire feeling about sex?"
"I don't believe I understand?"
"Never mind," he replied, not wanting to take her too far too fast. "We'll come back to that later when we know more about what makes you tick."
The conversation droned on and on, Jane warming to the subject of her life and the doctor making notes and asking questions. Two hours, then three passed. Jane became weary. Her narrative slowed and she became impatient with her choice of words. The doctor noted this and called their first session to an end. He explained that they would work together constantly, that she would be allowed four hour rest and sleep periods and that they would be together the rest of the time.
"Before I leave," he said, "is there anything you want?"
"I know you won't grant it to me, but what I want more than anything else is to get out of this room. Just for a few moments. I need a breath of fresh air, to see something besides the four walls of this room," she replied.
"I'll make a deal with you," Dr. Gorman answered. "If I arrange a five minute walk outside, will you promise to read a book I give you? You'll be escorted, of course, and there will be no chance of escape. I think a little sunshine might be good for you."
" Jane agreed eagerly. The doctor left the room and returned almost immediately with a bright colored robe and one of the men who had tied Jane down earlier. The man was given explicit instructions while Jane slipped into the robe. He took her by the arm and led her through the door.
The bright sun hurt Jane's eyes at first and she had to squint and keep her head down until her pupils adjusted. The Mexican, dressed in white ducks, a white, short-sleeve shirt and white canvas shoes, held her arm in a vise-like grip as they walked slowly along under the blooming jacaranda trees.
Jane's first impression was that she was in a tropical paradise. The air was warm, but very pleasant, and the fragrant blossoms invaded her being and sent her reeling. It was so beautiful, so calm, so quiet! The green turf beneath her bare feet was beautifully manicured, its soft texture reminding her of picnics and games the local country club sponsored for orphanages in Omaha. Although it was covered with a lush growth of greens, reds, and yellows, Jane could tell that the grounds were surrounded by a high fence making escape virtually impossible.
In the distance, she saw the lovely gazebo, the flower-covered roof making it appear like a tropical island in the middle of a sea of green.
"What's that?" she asked.
"No hablo Ingles," the man replied.
Jane regreted never having studied Spanish, but she was certain the man would not talk to her even if she addressed him in his own tongue.
Surveying the grounds, she reflected that whoever owned this place had surrounded himself with beauty and therefore could not be completely evil. She studied everything she could see, trying to establish some pattern in her mind. She was certain there were clues here to the personality of the person who held her captive, and she desperately wanted to understand that personality. If I'm to survive, I must know my enemy, she thought.
All too soon for Jane, her brief escape from the Game Room was over. The man led her back to the room, handed her a copy of a book called The True Believer by a man named Eric Hoffman, took the robe from her shoulders and pushed her into the familiar room. Blackness began to crowd Jane's mind as the door slammed shut, but she pushed it aside and sat down to keep her part of the bargain by reading the book. It was a deep work and Jane found she had to concentrate hard to grasp its meaning.
They spent an hour discussing the book and Dr. Gorman was pleased when he saw that Jane had comprehended the author's message. He pointed out to her that the true believer was the most dangerous person on earth, a person who had lost human compassion out of blind obedience to a creed he or she barely understood. They had a spirited conversation and Dr. Gorman fairly beamed at the capacity of the mind with which he was working. When some of her own sacred ideas became involved, Gorman forced her to become objective and analyze her concepts. Jane fought him at times, but she always gave in to logic in the end.
Learning that Jane was a rapid reader, Dr. Gorman increased the number of books he gave her each time they met. She read books that set out to prove that God was a creation of man, an entity roughly shaped from the clay of superstition to give man an excuse for being and relieve him from the burden of his conscience. She studied modern philosophies and the new concepts of morality. Nilism became more than a word, it was an idea, a way of life.
Jane's mind was a turmoil. What she read often contradicted what she had been taught to believe, and equally often one book she was given would directly contradict another. Dr. Gorman explained that most human beings experienced doubt and inner turmoil when they embarked on a search for truth.
"Up until now," he told her one day, "your life has been comfortable because you conveniently believed what you were told. You questioned nothing. Everything was absolute, definable in terms of right and wrong. Somebody told you this was right and that was wrong, and you accepted what they told you. It was simpler that way. You didn't have to think things out for yourself, you simply beheved and obeyed.
"Now you're uncomfortable because you've been exposed to new ideas, because you have to reason everything out for yourself and make your own search for truth."
Jane accepted this, never once thinking that her mind was being guided in a certain direction for a definite purpose. So adept was Dr. Gorman's handling of her, Jane actually believed that she was making her own decisions and forming her own ideas.
Their sessions together became more frequent, more demanding on Jane's mind. Her rest periods were cut to three hours, then two hours, and the sessions continued around the clock. She became so fatigued she often fell asleep while they were talking, but the doctor shook her awake and made her continue. Jane lost all sense of time, eating whenever a meal was placed before her and sleeping the moment Dr. Gorman mercifully left the room. She was exhausted. Her mind was a battleground of ideas and her body ached from a lack of sleep. Dr. Gorman made her stand in the center of the room while they talked, forcing her to remain awake and on her feet for hours at a time. Twice she fell to the floor, but he picked her up immediately and made her stand without support of any kind. She begged him, pleaded with him to let her rest, but he insisted she go on.
Once he pushed her roughly into the bathroom and turned on the cold water in the shower, holding her body under the icy stream until goose pimples appeared all over her creamy white skin.
Jane felt they had been going like this for weeks, but in truth it was only her fourth day.
"And how goes our little experiment, Doctor?" Senor Guzman asked.
He had summoned Gorman to the gazebo. The exhausted man flopped into a chair and gulped a cup of hot coffee before replying.
"Excellent!" he answered, his voice hoarse and weak from the strain. "I'm as exhausted as she is, but her mind has cracked. She no longer is certain of anything. She questions everything, even right and wrong. Ideas are lighting up her head like a pinball machine. She's exhausted, both physically and mentally, and that's how I wanted her."
"And sex?" his employer asked, offering the doctor a cigarette.
"Not yet. It's too early. Right now she's at the point of a nervous breakdown." He took the cigarette, lighted it and leaned back with his eyes closed as he continued. "I'm going to let her sleep six hours and get refreshed. Then I'll put her straight through until she falls from exhaustion again. Another six hours sleep after that and she should be completely in my control. That's when we'll begin with the sex program."
"How's the ten-day deadline look?"
"All right so far," Gorman answered, sleep almost overpowering him so that he brought his body forward in the chair with a jolt. "She had a regressive period about twelve hours ago. Went back to her original concepts of life and morality. I expected that and brought her through it. If we don't have another one, we'll make it in ten days. Of course a lot of this depends on how she reacts to sex when we get there." He stood up and looked through bloodshot eyes at his employer. "It also depends on my getting some sleep in between these sessions, Avillo. My body is going through the same thing hers is, you know. If there isn't anything more, I'd like to hit the sack for six hours."
"My apologies, Doctor. I knew you'd be tired, but I did want to learn what progress you've made. By all means, get some rest. You look as though you need it. I'll see that you're not disturbed."
You'd better not fail us, Guzman thought to himself as he watched the doctor's stocky form, the shoulders stooped and the feet dragging, slowly climb the gentle slope to the main house. He'd already made up his mind that the doctor's usefulness to the organization was gone when the Jane Horner incident came up. Regardless of how this came out, Gorman was through. If he failed, the punishment would have to be very severe, something to set an example for others.
Jane was refreshed when she awakened, but within two hours she was crying and beating her fists helplessly against the bed. The doctor was relentless, without mercy in his sharp question and demands for answers. One time she had refused to answer and Dr. Gorman walked up to her and slapped her in the face. When she broke down and began crying, he again pulled her to her feet and slapped her face. This time his hand swept back and forth across her face leaving bright pink skin in its wake.
"What do you want of me?" she screamed as she refused to stand, letting her body fall in a heap on the floor each time he picked her up.
A man was summoned and Jane was tied by the wrists to a chain that suddenly appeared from the silk folds on the ceding. She was jerked to a standing position with her arms above her head, her toes barely touching the floor. Her shoulders ached and the muscles under her arms felt like they were straining to the breaking point. The questioning continued, cruel slaps stinging against her face when she hesitated in her answers. She fainted.
When Jane came to, her will to resist was gone. Her body ached all over and she could not find a comfortable position for her arms. No matter how she turned, they ached and throbbed. Despite the six hours sleep she was exhausted, mentally and physically. Nothing seemed to matter. Jane's faith, once her crutch in every crisis, was now gone. She doubted everything, even her own existence. Her appetite was gone. For the past several days eating had been more mechanical than anything else. Very little of the old Jane Horner was left, except her will to survive, and this was now only a dim echo somewhere in the background.
Dr. Gorman came into the room. He wore a crisp, fresh shirt and pressed slacks. His face was clean shaven and he smelled of a pleasant, mild cologne. In his hand he carried a long instrument that reminded Jane of a large flashlight, except that it had a wooden handle on one end and three prongs on the other.
"Good afternoon, Jane," he greeted her with a bright smile. "It's time to begin the second phase of your education, something you'll enjoy much more than what we've been doing. How do you feel?"
"Terrible! I'm exhausted, Doctor. You're not going to chain me to the ceiling again, are you?"
"Oh, I hope that won't be necessary, Jane. If you do just exactly what I tell you, you'll have lots of fun and we won't have any trouble."
Jane nodded her head. She would do whatever he wanted her to. She wanted to please him, to make his every wish her command. He could bring her happiness or make her suffer. She knew that, and she wanted to have him pleased with her. She mustn't do anything that would make him angry. She owed a great deal to him. He had opened her eyes to things she never knew existed, helped her to understand her life, led her to the brink of a better life. She was his slave.
"We're going to do nothing but talk about and practice sex, Jane. I know you're tired of talking. And I think you realize that I know more about sex than you do, so let me do most of the talking and you just listen."
He pulled one of the large chairs from the wall and sat down beside the bed. Laying the long instrument down on the bed, he began talking to her in a quiet but firm voice. He explained to her that the male penis was the most important thing in her life, that because of it she was alive and capable of enjoying great pleasure. Jane listened as he went on to explain that she could only enjoy pleasure herself when she gave pleasure to others. He said that it was his job to teach her sex, show her how to bring the maximum amount of pleasure to others and enjoy it herself.
Dr. Gorman made her stretch out on her back, her knees in the air, her feet planted flatly against the fur cover, and her thighs spread wide with her tender pink slit fully exposed. He handed her a book and told her to read in that position.
Jane had never seen anything like the book she had in her hands. It was a lurid account of sex with photographs on each page. The first photograph showed a beautiful woman with a man's penis in her mouth. It was a close-up and Jane could see the enlarged veins along the shaft of the man's very erect organ, the girl's sensuous lips seeking to pull the large organ in her mouth. The next photo was of a woman with her legs spread wide apart. A man's head was buried between her thighs, his ears pressed against the soft, yielding flesh. The woman's vagina was plainly visible in the photograph, as was the man's tongue and what it was doing to her genital area. Jane felt a quickening between her own thighs as she remembered the delights she had experienced under hot, searing tongues not too long ago.
She lifted the book a few inches and looked down between her legs when she felt probing fingers spreading the lips of her vagina. Dr. Gorman was leaning forward in his chair, his hand buried in the soft folds of her cunt. His probing fingers found her clitoris and he began manipulating it while she read.
The next photo was of two women with their heads buried in each other's crotch. Jane's body almost melted when she remembered what Consuela had done to her and the way she had reacted. She was turning the pages faster now, the erotic photos and Dr. Gorman's eager fingers pushing her up the scale of passion. When she came upon a photo of a man mounted on top of a woman with his large, erect penis shoving deep inside the girl's belly, Jane felt her pulse quicken. She stared at the photo and imagined herself beneath the man, his rod probing her deepest regions, his balls bouncing against the cheeks of her exposed buttocks. Her body went into short spasms as Dr. Gorman placed more pressure on her clitoris, and Jane heard an involuntary groan escaape from her lips. She couldn't control herself. She was plummeting from the crest of the waterfall and she was powerless to stop herself.
"Ahh!" she sighed as she reached a small climax. "Now wasn't that fun, Jane?" Dr. Gorman asked.
She turned her head away, somehow embarrassed about what had happened to her. Dr. Gorman continued.
"You see what great pleasure your body can give you? Well, now we must teach you how to share that pleasure with others. Jane, I want you to suck my cock."
She didn't move. Jane heard him, but she simply couldn't move her body.
"Jane, suck my cock! Now!"
She still couldn't move her body. She heard him reach for something on the bed, and then her body jumped as a shock of electric current ran through her body.
"I know your mind wants you to do what I ask, Jane. Sometimes your body just refuses to react. We'll take care of that with this little prod. It carries fifteen volts, and it can hurt, Jane. Keep that in mind and do what I tell you. Suck my cock, Jane!"
Jane was sitting rigidly upright on the bed, but she remained motionless. Her eyes fixed on the doctor's. She saw a steel will she had never seen there before. It frightened her and she remained still. He reached out and placed the prongs at the end of the instrument against her bare breast and pressed the button.
"Aargh!" she cried as fifteen volts surged into her breast and through her body. Her legs kicked wildly and she fell on her side, every muscle in her body stiff and unyeilding. Gorman reached out and placed the prongs between her white hillocks, touching the brown dot deep in her crevice. He flicked the button and Jane's body flew into the air. "AAaaeeii!" she screamed as she fell off the bed onto the floor.
"Suck my cock, Jane!"
She scrambeled to her knees and flung her body between his legs. Her hands fumbled helplessly with the fly on his pants and finally got it open. She reached in and pulled, tugged his swollen member out and placed in in her mouth. Her mind was that of an animal. Her muscles tensed for the next shock, but none came.
"You see, nothing will happen to you when you do what you're told, Jane. Use your tongue and suck it!"
Life became a living hell for Jane Horner. Dr. Gorman was at her constantly with his instrument of torture, making her do all sorts of things to him and punishing her severely if she hesitated for only a moment. His penis became her god: she kissed it, licked it, fondled it and let him put it in every opening of her body. It was only when she was taking proper care of his penis that she was safe from the electric current shooting into her body.
She was never free of the sound of his voice. He talked constantly, telling her about all forms of sex and how she must conduct herself. His voice was an echo pounding into her brain relentlessly. Each day the echo became stronger, until finally Jane could hear it even when he was not in the room with her.
When they were together, Jane was required to sit on the floor in front of him with her head in his lap. Erect or limp, it was Jane's duty to keep his penis in her mouth at all times. It became automatic for her. She felt content when she had his penis in her mouth. She was safe from the long silver colored instrument, and that was the meaning of her life, to stay safely away from that object of terror.
"Undress me!" he commanded one morning when he walked into the room.
Jane rushed to him and began taking his clothes off. She held his penis in one hand fondling it while she used the other hand to unbutton his shirt and slip his clothes off. When he was naked, he placed his hand on her shoulder and pushed her down to her knees.
"Get behind me and lick my asshole, Jane!" he commanded. "I want you to lick it clean and then sink your tongue as far as you can up my ass."
Jane hesitated a moment too long. He took the instrument, which was now always strapped to his wrist, and placed it so that the prongs at the tip touched the lips of her pink slit. He held the button down and Jane's body writhed across the floor at his feet. She scrambeld to her knees and crawled around behind him. Taking the tan globes of his buttocks in her hands, Jane separated them and ran her tongue deep into the crevice. Pushing the wiry hairs at the entrance aside with the tip of her tongue, she licked the small brown bud that puckered before her. She made her tongue stiff and jabbed it inside the rubbery hole, moving it as far up as she could. Reaching between his legs, Jane took his throbbing penis in her hand. It was only then that she could feel safe.
Hours were spent breaking the language barrier. Dr. Gorman used the shining silver instrument as a pointer on Jane's body.
"What's this?" he asked, touching her breast with the prongs.
"My breast ... Aaeeii!"
"What is it?"
"I don't know what you want me to say ... Aaeeii! It's my TIT!"
"That's better. Now what's this?" he said placing the prongs against the golden crested mound between her legs.
"My vagina ... AAeeii! My cunt. My PUSSY!"
"And this?"
"My ass! Please don't do it again! Please!"
"And this I have in my hand?"
"Your penis ... Aaiiee! Your COCK! Please! Please, no more! I can't stand it!"
"What do you do to my cock?"
"I suck it. I lick it. I love it!"
"And what do you like to do most?"
"Fuck-Fuck-FUCK! I love to fuck!"
This was drilled into her hour after hour until her answers were automatic, without hesitation. She would meet him at the door each time he entered the room with the plea, "Please let me suck your cock!"
Jane's mind became the servant of her body.
On the eighth day Dr. Gorman brought one of the young men who worked on the estate into the room with him. He had the man strip down and then ordered Jane to kneel before the man and take his penis in her mouth. Jane hesitated a moment too long and Dr. Gorman jabbed the instrument between her legs and held the button down. Her body jerked and she fell to the floor screaming. He followed her, leaned down and placed the prongs in the crevice between her buttocks. Jane's body jerked again, and this time she raced to the other man and gobbled his erect penis into her mouth. She ran her tongue over its olive surface and sucked it eagerly, paying homage to the one thing that provided her any safety.
"Now kiss him, Jane!"
She pulled herself to her feet, one hand holding and fondling his penis. Placing her other arm around the man's neck, she planted her lips against his and probed his mouth with her moist tongue.
"Have him fuck you, Jane!"
She guided the man to the bed, her hand holding his penis like a handle. She placed herself on her back with her legs spread wide.
"Fuck me. Please fuck me!" she pleaded with the man.
He needed no further invitation. Positioning himself above her, he rammed his throbbing cock deep inside her belly and began a thrusting motion that made his balls slap against the white cheeks of Jane's ass. She gave herself completely to the pleasure the hot, surging cock was creating in her innermost depths. Her body went into spasms and she locked her legs behind his buttocks, pushing in with her heels to sink him even deeper inside her. Jane's nails raked his back and her tongue sunk far into his throat as their lips tangled in a hungry embrace.
"Fuck me. Harder! Sink that cock deeper!" she moaned as they both climbed the ladder of passion step by step. Her feet were beating his buttocks and her fists pounded his back like a kettle drum.
"FUCK. FUCK, YOU BASTARD!" she screamed as her passion mounted.
The man's hips became a ram, battering his piston on long, deep strokes up her cunt. Their bodies moved in a frantic motion and then, with a mighty convulsion, went rigid.
"Aargh!" she moaned deeply in her throat as she felt his molten juices spurting up inside her. Her own white, hot come encased his cock and boiled down his balls and over her cheeks. The man went to raise his body, but Jane's legs locked around him.
"NO! Fuck me again! Keep that cock inside me and fuck!" she insisted.
The man took a moment to recover, then began moving his hips once more. Dr. Guzman smiled, the sweet taste of victory and success in his mouth.
"I think she's almost ready," Dr. Gorman said, a satisfied smile on his face as he sat with Senor Guzman and Mark Wilson in the gazebo on the morning of the ninth day. "Of course all of this is tenuous at best. It's been done much too rapidly and she could slip into a regressive state at any time."
Mark had just returned from El Paso, Texas, where he had handled an emergency public relations problem for the organization when one of the Juarez warehouses had been raided unexpectedly. His bag had been sent to his room and he'd come directly to the gazebo for breakfast.
"Bring me up to date. I've been out of circulation almost all week," he said.
"Oh it's a long story, Mark," Guzman replied. "The doctor has had Miss Horner on a conditioning program, turning her into a sex machine as it were. Right, Doctor?"
"It could loosely be referred to as brainwashing, Mark, and I've had some remarkable success," the doctor answered as he signaled for a fresh cup of coffee. "In fact, I propose a small test. At this point Miss Horner needs some carrots dangled before her, some rewards for performing well. If you gentlemen don't mind a good blow-job before breakfast, I'd like to have her brought out here and make her perform. If she does well, I propose that she be allowed to remain here and have breakfast with us. That would be quite a treat after being caged in that room so long. She won't be allowed to talk to us until after she has sucked all three of us off. Then we'll engage her in polite conversation for a while. Senor?"
"I'm not exactly in the mood to have my cock sucked, but it's your experiment, Doctor. I'm game if Mark is."
"By all means!" Mark enjoined. "It'll be a novel experience, and I'm dying to see the new Miss Jane Horner."
Jane, warned in advance to prepare herself, appeared on the arm of one of the men a few minutes later. Her golden hair was combed and hung in smooth, soft waves to her shoulders. Her lips were a bright red, thanks to a lipstick borrowed from Consuela by Dr. Gorman. She wore a loose-fitting white silk robe and her eyes sparkled brightly at the prospect of being allowed out of the room.
"I don't think you need that robe with us, Jane," Dr. Gorman said softly. "Why don't you take it off?"
Jane immediately loosened the belt and let the robe drop to her feet. Her large, ripe breasts quivered in the fresh air and she stood with her legs slightly parted so that the men could see the lips of her pink slit beneath the golden hair on her mound.
She cupped her breasts in her hands as Dr. Gorman had taught her and slowly swung her body in a full circle so that every inch of her creamy white skin came under their close scrutiny.
"My congratulations, Doctor," Guzman said. "Her body is perfect! Not a scratch on it."
"Jane," the doctor commanded, "I want you to get on your knees under the table here and suck each of our cocks. You're to suck until each of us fills your mouth with hot come. Do you understand?"
Jane nodded her head and moved to the table. She dropped to her knees and crawled underneath.
"Begin with this man," the doctor said, indicating Senor Guzman. "And if you do well there will be a lovely reward for you."
Jane scooted beneath the table, pulled Senor Guzman's legs apart, positioned herself between his knees and placed her head in his lap and unbuttoned the fly of his pants. She reached inside and pulled his limp organ out, planting small kisses along its soft shaft and running her tongue over the head. The feel of his jet black pubic hair against her lips excited her and she slowly sucked the soft rod fully into her mouth, capturing the small sack below in her hand and fondling it as she moistened his cock with her hungry tongue. She felt a quiver, then a tiny jerk in her mouth as his prick began to respond to her ravenous attack. It began to swell, pushing her tongue to the floor of her mouth and touching all sides with its increasing hardness. She pulled it out of her mouth and ran her tongue up and down the shaft. Then she nibbled on it gently, allowing her teeth to barely trace a line as she ran them along the swollen member. She licked the veins that stood out on the now fully erect prick and became excited as she felt a shudder in his thighs which were pressed against her shoulders. Jane's lips captured the head of the cock between them and began sucking it firmly into her eager mouth.
"Tell me about Juarez, Mark," Guzman said, ignoring the girl with her head in his lap.
Jane was surprised that the man could talk while his cock was so demanding in her mouth. She told herself she would just have to try harder.
"It wasn't much," Mark replied. "Mainly a foul-up on the part of Carlos. He hadn't paid the right man. There's a new inspector up there and Carolos was a little late in making the standard arrangement with him. Our merchandise was confiscated, but I've arranged for it to be returned once everything quiets down. The newspapers took some handling, but it's all taken care of now. I would suggest we ship a new stock in right away. It could be a couple of months before everything's returned and we might run short for a while."
"Holy Mother of God! This girl can really suck a cock!" Guzman moaned.
Jane felt him approaching the moment and doubled her efforts. Her head bobbed up and down rapidly, her tongue wrapped around the surging member as she pulled it in and out of her mouth.
She felt the balls in her hand tighten, and then a gush of hot liquid raced into her mouth and down her throat. A feeling of perfect contentment flowed through Jane's body. She was pleased with herself. She used her probing tongue to wash his moist prick clean and then put it back in his pants, scooting across the floor to wedge herself between Mark's knees.
Senor Guzman was about to comment on Jane's performance, but the doctor placed his finger to his lips and cut him short. Guzman took the reprimand without comment, poured another cup of coffee, and lighted a cigarette.
"I'll take care of that today, Mark," he said. "Should I send a full shipment to replace what was confiscated?"
"I would," Mark replied, his mind elsewhere as the voracious mouth on his cock-head sent delights shooting through his blood-inflated penis. He looked down and saw Jane's golden hair framed against his black slacks. Who would have believed it? he asked himself as he watched her head bob up and down. She had one hand locked around the base of his organ, squeezing tight as she ran it in and out of her hot mouth. With the other hand she was playing with his balls, applying the exact amount of pressure to excite him.
He was as surprised as she was when his cock shot forth a steaming load of juice into her eager mouth. He'd had no warning, just suddenly exploded deep into her throat.
"Aahh!" he said, sitting back and lighting a cigarette. "That's the way to start the day!"
Jane licked him dry and moved over to place her head in Dr. Gorman's lap. She took his semi-erect penis her her hand and began licking it as the conversation continued above her. She knew they were trying to ignore her, but she felt triumphant in having overcome two of them already.
"What's this I heard about the Fedrales burning one of our fields the other day?" Mark asked, his senses returning.
"Politics, Mark, just politics," Guzman replied. "They had to have a field to burn to make headlines and please their American friends, especially with the conference coming on this weekend. They called me and we bickered about what field I'd let them have. I gave them the one in Morelia."
"You gave it to them?" Mark asked incredulous-ly-
"I didn't have much choice, did I? They had to burn a field of marijuana somewhere to keep the newspapers and the Americans happy. I tried to give them a smaller one, but they insisted it had to be something large. So I had the men harvest what they could and then clear out. One has to be practical, Mark."
The word marijuana registered in Jane's mind, but only as a dim echo. It was the first time she had heard the word down here and it should have told her a great deal. But Jane's mind was consumed with the job before her, sucking Dr. Gorman's cock. He was holding her head with his hands now and plunging his swollen prick deep into her mouth. She knew his release would come soon and she let her teeth scrape the shaft as he plunged in and out, her tongue wrapping around the throbbing organ. His hands pressed her head hard into his lap, mashing her lips into the wiry pubic hair at the base of his cock. She opened her lower lip wide and sucked part of his balls into her mouth as she felt him begin shooting the hot liquid into her. It seared her throat and raced to her belly, and Jane felt completely satisfied with herself.
They told Jane to get out from under the table and allowed her to put the robe on. Mark stood and offered her a chair, and she sat down with them. At a signal, breakfast was served, and they all chatted. Jane was the center of the conversation, and each man told her how pleased he was with her.
When she admired some of the flowers in the garden near the gazebo, Senor Guzman sent one of the maids over and had her pick some blooms and bring them to Jane.
Jane was happy, happier than she had been in a long, long time. People were talking to her, treating her like a human being, making her feel wanted. And she was out of that awful room! Lately she felt that the walls of the Game Room were closing in on her. She had wakened in a cold sweat several times, certain that the walls were upon her and smothering her. Now she was outside! The sun was shining, and everything smelled so marvelous! When Mark offered to take her for a stroll through the estate, she jumped up and took his arm with enthusiasm.
"What do you think?" Dr. Gorman asked as he and Guzman watched Jane and Mark walk through the gardens hand in hand.
"Excellent!" his employer replied. "Truly excellent! How long will it hold?"
"Oh, it could be permanent, if we had the proper time to finish the task. She may go into another regressive state, but we can even handle that, with time."
"Can she take an orgy?"
"I don't know. I think so, Avillo, but I'm not sure. She might break down, but I don't think so."
Senor Guzman came to his feet and walked to the edge of the gazebo in deep concentration.
"What I have in mind, Doctor, will be quite costly and require some arrangements. We can hardly afford to take a chance of her breaking down in the middle."
"Then I would suggest we gamble. It might set us back a few days or a week, but there is one way to find out how complete the conversion really is."
"What's that?"
"A return match with Paco. That's a shock for any woman. If Jane makes it through that, she'll make it through any orgy. Paco has already had her, and Jane detests him. If she can take him on and enjoys it, I'd say we were safe."
Guzman looked at the young couple walking along down by the stream. He could hear Jane's laughter as Mark obviously made funny remarks about the stream. He let his gaze wander to the sky and the dark, heavy clouds in the east.
"Arrange it for this afternoon. It'll give us something to do when the rains come."
CHAPTER TEN
Jane was elated. The breakfast and the walk through the grounds with Mark had given her a new lease on life. She had escaped from her prison for what she judged to be at least two hours. And there was the promise of more to come!
She was back in the Game Room, but somehow she didn't seem to mind. The terror was still here, but Jane was certain she could control it. Yes, she thought, the end is in sight. But what end? She felt she was waiting for something, but what? This was a problem she did not disclose even to Gorman. Jane Horner was losing her memory. She could remember things only in flashes. They would come for one blinding instant and then leave her blank.
Sex was all that was important. She knew there was something else, but she refused to think about it. She pushed it into the hidden reaches of her mind, blotting it from her thoughts like an ink stain from a white dress. There was still a gray, murky pattern there, but Jane refused to let it interfere and conveniently blocked it from her thoughts.
Something important had happened at breakfast. She remembered promising herself she would think about it later, but now it was gone from her mind. It nagged her and she tried to concentrate, but her mind soon wandered to the beauty of the estate. If only she would be allowed to go outside often! And that man. Mark, he said his name was. He was so handsome, so strong, so sure of himself! Jane felt a strong attraction for him. It pleased her to think she had sucked his cock and had his white come in her stomach.
What had the doctor told her? Oh yes, something about another test this afternoon. If she passed it, he said, she would have an even greater surprise. Maybe she would even be given a room of her own and allowed to go outside all she wanted! Did he say that, or was she imagining it?
Jane spun around as she heard the door at the end of the room open. A smile creased her face as she saw Gorman enter. It turned quickly to a frown when she saw that he carried the long silver colored instrument in his hand. He saw her gaze and the terror in her eyes.
"Don't be concerned, Jane, I won't use this unless I absolutely have to," he said. "I've just brought it with me in case. I told you there would be another test, and I want to be certain that you pass it with flying colors."
Paco walked into the room and Jane felt a shudder race through her body when she saw his ugly shape. Paco noticed her reaction and grinned at her, a drop of saliva oozing from his mouth as he contemplated her nude body. A shiver raced through Jane as she saw the lust in his eyes when he stared at her proud breasts and wet his lips. Through instinct, Jane involuntarily attempted to cover herself with her hands. Paco gave out a mean laugh when she did this and Gorman held the electric prod in plain sight so that Jane could not mistake his intention.
"You may remember Paco, Jane. You've had the pleasure of his cock before. This time I want you to make love to him. You may begin by sucking his cock."
Jane shivered. In a blinding flash she remembered everything Paco had done to her. She could see his oversized cock staring down at her, a steaming river of yellow liquid shooting at her face and covering her body like slime. She feh the muscles around her anus tighten as a memory of the pain she had suffered there flooded through her. Nausea gripped her belly as she remembered his ugly body grotesquely heaving on top of her. For a moment she thought she was going to faint.
Gorman took a step forward, the silver colored instrument held horizontally before him. Paco leered at Jane.
Mark felt a sudden chill run through him as he leaned forward in his chair to watch the drama unfolding before him in the Game Room. He saw Jane frozen in one spot, her breasts heaving and a frown creasing her forehead, and he wondered what she would do. The significance of the instrument in Gorman's hand was lost on Mark, but from the anguish in Jane's eyes as she glanced at it Mark knew she held it in terror.
He glanced at his employer sitting next to him. Guzman was leaning way back in his chair, smoking a cigarette casually as he watched Jane's every movement.
"What's that thing Gorman has in his hand?" Marked asked.
"A modified version of a cattle prod. It's battery operated and delivers a full fifteen-volt shock. Won't damage a human being, but hurts like all helL I hope he doesn't have to use it. She's had it for almost four days now, so she should know enough to keep out of its way."
Consuela was sitting on the other side of Guzman, her hand in his lap stroking his limp penis.
"If he does give it to her, I hope he hits her asshole with it. That really makes them jump. Sometimes they lose all control and shit right on the spot!" she said.
"You're a mean bitch today," Guzman chuckled.
A resolve formed in Mark's mind. Nothing he could yet define, it was a seed which he knew he must carefully nurture to maturity.
It seemed to Jane that she was rooted on the floor, unable to move even though she commanded her body to act. Gorman moved rapidly to her side, placed the ice cold prongs against her left nipple and pressed the button.
"Aaeeii!" she screamed as the electricity jolted her system. She fell to her knees and, clutching the fur of the carpet between her straining fingers, pulled herself to Paco's feet. She wrapped her arms around his legs and pulled herself to a kneeling position before him. Her fingers fought the zipper on his fly for a moment and then pulled it down. She shot her hand inside his pants, pushing aside all obstacles and grasped his giant organ firmly in her hand. Pulling it up from where its head was captured in the leg of his slacks, Jane managed to free the partially erect monster from its nest.
"My god, what a cock!" she said in almost reverent tones. She had been taught that the male penis was an idol, and this must be the king of all idols! The partially erect organ laid in her palms like a snake coiling itself to strike. The head was a deep red, almost the color of raw liver. Wrinkles went through the skin near the head of the long shaft and Jane could feel it begin to fill with blood. She forced herself to forget the man and concentrate on his magnificent cock. Bending her head forward, she began planting wet kisses all along the shaft. Then she ran her tongue back and forth, coating his cock with a glistening moisture. Her tongue found the deep ridge just beneath the swollen head and traced it in a slow, circling motion. Blood rushed into the large piston causing the skin to expand and great purple veins to pop out along the sides.
Jane reached into Paco's slacks and pulled the heavy sack with its two swollen pears out in her hand. It was so large and heavy she had to hold it in both hands, black hair squeezing its way through her-tight fingers. She let her tongue dart into the hole at the tip of the throbbing cock, and then her lips parted to surround the head.
Paco stared down at the soft white flesh kneeling before him. The ruby red lips holding the very tip of his turgid member framed by the creamy white skin and soft golden hair excited him. He saw her dainty hands holding his balls, cupping them like a religious offering. Strength flooded his veins. They've brought you down a few pegs, gringo bitch, he said to himself. It's about time you paid honor to a man's prick! He reached out and grabbed handfuls of blonde hair and pulled Jane's head forward, sinking his tumid shaft deep into her mouth.
It almost gagged her, but Jane was more excited than she had ever been. Even the foul odor of Paco's body excited her. She dropped his balls and placed both hands around the shaft of his god-like prick, lapping it with her tongue and filling her mouth with it. Her jaws ached from stretching wide to get the large cock inside her eager, hungry mouth, but Jane nibbled, licked, pulled and sucked like a child nursing its mother's breast. Paco held her hair tightly and began moving his hips, thrusting his prick deeper and deeper into her throat.
Gorman backed slowly away and seated himself in a chair along the wall. He regreted the use of the prod, but he was satisfied with what he saw before him. Jane was attacking Paco's prick with a great hunger, and Gorman knew this would please his employer.
Jane pulled the throbbing cock from her mouth and ran her nose along the top of its long shaft until she buried it deep in the thick, matted pubic hair at the root. This was the seat of the pungent odor and she wanted to wallow in it. The smell both repelled and excited her. She ran her nose deep into the matted pubic hair and inhaled. Her tongue darted out and licked his heavy sack, then flattened itself along the bottom of his shaft. Placing her nose on top of his cock, she captured the blood inflated member between her nose and tongue and ran from the base to the head and back.
Paco's body began to shake, his hips thrusting with hard jabs as his passion mounted. I'd like to ram this thing clear down her throat and rest my balls on her chin while I pumped my load through her and watched it come dripping out of her asshole, Paco thought! He took it in his hand and ran it across her forehead leaving little tracks of glistening come from the drops that were beginning to ooze out of him. He poked it in her eye and ran it down her nose. Jane grabbed it and jammed it into her mouth as if she was trying to swallow him whole. Paco's legs became weak. He was close to coming, but he wanted to save that for later. He pulled her off his cock, lifted her body and pushed her back until she landed on the bed. Then he literally ripped his clothes off his back.
Kicking his shoes off, he limped to the bed and pulled Jane's legs wide apart as he fell between them. The bright pink flesh gleaming through the soft golden hair surrounding her cunt was more than Paco could stand. His tongue swept across his lips and drops of saliva oozed from the corners of his mouth. He let his face fall on her soft mound with a loud thump.
Jane felt the searing tongue roll to a point and probe deep into her anus, then flatten and lap her entire vagina with one long, wet swipe. Her hips began rotating as she felt him roll his tongue into another point and slide it just under the pulsating lips of her quivering vagina. Round and round it went, and each time it passed the entrance to her hidden reaches, it darted in and sunk almost to her belly. Then the hot probe found her clitoris, now erect and extended from a deep passion growing inside her. Jane gasped as he grabbed her clitoris and it rolled inside his searing tongue, then sucked it until her whole body quivered with delight.
"Aagh! Yes! YES! Eat it! Chew it! Aahh!"
She watched his head bob up and down, only the hairline and eyebrows visible above her mound. When he began lapping her with his tongue, she saw the tip come over the golden crest between her legs. The blood raced through her body, perspiration formed in tiny puddles between her heaving breasts and ran from her forehead. Her hands shot down and grabbed his hair, pulling him deeper and deeper into her crotch. She brought her thighs in against his ears and pressed as his demanding tongue made her hips sway in a wild frenzy.
"Eat that cunt! Oh, god, that's soo good! Now. NOW! Oohh!"
Jane's cunt contracted and pulled Paco's tongue deep inside, holding it and moving against it on all sides. Hot come flowed from her gaping orifice covering Paco's face, dripping into his mouth, running from his nose and chin and falling into a gleaming puddle on the fur cover. Paco pulled himself up and fell on top of Jane's hot body, pressing his face into hers and running his dripping tongue into her mouth so that she could taste the salty sweetness of her own come. She wrapped her tongue around his and sucked on it. Then she pulled back and licked his face, cleaning the glistening, warm come from his lips and nose.
Jane felt his tumid weapon battering against her thigh. She reached down and grasped it in her hand, guiding it to the quivering, hungry opening between her legs.
"Fuck me, Paco! Fuck me as hard as you can. Fill my cunt with hot come! Please fuck me!" she pleaded.
The pain from the first thrust shot through her body. It seared into her brain, down through her chest, into her groin. She tried to muffle her scream by burying her head into his neck, but it roared from her lips anyway.
"Uugghh!"
He jabbed again, using his hips as a ram to push his oversized cock deeper into her belly. He felt her nails dig into his back, her hand grabbing skin tightly to try to hold on as he punished her with his monstrous prick. Tiny drops of blood ran down his back from where her nails broke the skin and this goaded him on to thrust even deeper. He wanted to sink it so far into the gringo bitch he could watch the head of his cock emerge from her mouth, blood dripping from it as a result of the walls it tore down as it raced through her white body.
"Aagh!" Jane screamed as Paco .gave a final lunge and sunk his cock clear to its hairy root inside her. She felt it ram against her cervix and try to open new channels in her body. She felt like a mighty sword was rammed through her stomach, nailing her to the bed and cutting her every time she moved.
Grabbing her tits like handles, Paco reared up and began pounding his surging cock up her. His heavy balls bounced against her ass, bruising the soft white skin and breaking the silence of the room with a loud slapping noise.
The pain was gone, and the pleasure was more than Jane could bear. Her head flipped from side to side, her fists beat on the bed, her body went into convulsions, arching to take his cock even deeper inside her belly. She felt the sack swell and become even heavier as it slapped against her ass, but Jane was beyond caring. Her only thought was of her own release. It came on her like a dam bursting.
The hot fluid gushing from his prick left steaming trails as it seared through her body. She felt the head dance against her cervix, bursts of hot come flooding her cunt and mixing with her own lust liquid.
Their bodies went limp and they remained motionless. Paco collapsed on top of her, letting her heaving tits press into his chest. She contracted the muscles of her vagina to pull the last drop out of his giant cock. Paco answered her with a jerk of his own.
"Jane!" the doctor's voice cut through the sweet haze that engulfed her. "I want you to lick Paco's cock clean and get him hard again so that he can fuck your ass."
Paco rolled over on his back and Jane buried her head in his black pubic hair. It was covered with their white, sticky come and she licked it eagerly with her tongue. Holding his deflated member in her hand Jane ran her tongue all over it, pulling the salty, thick liquid into her mouth.
Paco looked down his scarred body and watched her swab him clean. That's what you're good for, you gringo bitch, cleaning a man's cock! Her hungry attack excited him and he again felt blood rushing to his organ. You'll swab the shit off it when I finish with you, he thought. And you'll get a taste of your own snotty blood because I'm going to rip you a brand new asshole!
Jane felt it grow in her mouth, become hard and throbbing again. She let it fill her mouth while she toyed with the heavy sack beneath, squeezing a ripe pear gently. The purple veins along the shaft began rubbing against her teeth and lips. She wrapped her hand around the hairy base and began moving the skin up and down as she captured the surging head between her lips and sucked it slowly into her mouth. If nothing else, the size of Paco's prick excited Jane. The way it filled her mouth and her cunt so completely made her tingle with delight.
Paco grabbed her hair and roughly pulled her off of him. He turned her over and grasped her hips to raise her body into a kneeling position. Jane's legs scissored open, a foot dangling off the bed on each side of his body. He pulled her back to where almost only her knees were on the bed and she was leaning forward on her arms. Almost against her will, Jane's hands burrowed down beneath her body and groped at the white globes facing Paco. She pulled the cheeks of her ass apart with her fingers and stretched the rubber ring on her anus, expanding the deep brown nugget for him.
The sight of that brown starfish between the white hillocks made Paco's cock throb. He took it in his hand and guided it to the small hole. He jabbed at it, but the rubber ring withstood his pressure and denied him entrance. He jabbed again, but failed to even get the head partially in. Dropping to his knees, Paco ran his tongue along the crevice, across Jane's fingers holding the hole open and then darted it inside. Saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth as he lubricated the tight anus with his tongue. He swirled it around inside until it was wet and flexible, then stood up and once again jabbed his oversized cock at the brown rubber ring.
Jane felt it press against her, the pressure sending chills through her loins and belly. The rubber ring seemed to hold, but finally gave way under the onslaught. She heard it open and pop as Paco's cock sunk into her ass. The pain was like having a hot iron rammed into her and Jane thought she would faint. Relentlessly Paco shoved against her, sinking it an inch deeper with each thrust.
"Uuaagghh!" she screamed. Paco, spurred on by the punishment he was inflicting, gave a mighty plunge and sunk it all the way to its hairy root. Jane tried to fall forward to loose herself from the impalement of her rectum, but he held her firmly by the hips. She felt like someone had a knife up inside her, twisting and turning to cut her insides to tiny shreds.
Gradually the pain gave way to a deep sense of pleasure. Jane experimented with a small wiggle of her hips, found the pleasure even more intense and then began a slow rotation. Paco drove hard into her ass, poking and probing with all his strength. His heavy balls began bouncing against her thighs and hitting the exposed pink slit. Jane reached beneath her body and between their legs and took his heavy sack in her hand, trying vainly to stuff it inside her cunt. Paco reached forward and grabbed her tits to milk her like a cow. She rubbed her cunt with his sack, trying to pull him deeper inside her, his rod sliding in and out of her expanded rectum giving her a delight she had never truly experienced beiore.
She looked over at Gorman and saw the big bulge in his pants. Oh, if he were only close enough for me to suck his cock, she thought! She imagined the cock in her mouth countering the strokes of the cock up her ass. All thoughts vanished from her head as a double explosion deep inside her rocked her body. Paco's hot come was shooting so deep into her body Jane imagined she could taste drops of it in her mouth and throat. Her own come was running down her legs in gushing rivers, making a large puddle on the bed.
Paco pulled back, loosing his prick from the tight cavern that had captured the swollen organ and sucked it dry. He flipped Jane over on the bed and sat on her chest, running his semi-erect cock back and forth across her lips. The thought of what he wanted sickened her, but Jane opened her mouth and began licking the streaks of brown mixed with white come from his cock. The odor was overpowering and Jane almost vomited. Suddenly a memory flashed in Jane's mind.
She managed to turn Paco over on the bed and mount him so that her knees were pressed against his ears. Paco thought she wanted him to return the favor and lick her clean. He pulled her down so that the lips of her cunt were pressed against his lips, exploring the pink inner regions of her cunt with his tongue.
What Paco didn't see was that Jane's eyes were closed and the muscles around her abdomen were rippling and straining. Then it happened! A rush of hot yellow fluid covered Paco's face, running into his mouth and down his cheeks. It stung his eyes and made his nostrills recoil. Jane relieved herself in torrents, covering Paco's face and chest with pungent urine.
That dirty gringo bitch! He pushed her aside roughly and sprang to his knees above her.
Gorman immediately saw what had happened and laughed at the justice Jane had dealt Paco. He also saw that Paco was furious, and he knew that the Mexican would kill Jane if he could. He jumped from his chair and raced to the bed. Paco's hand was in the air, a blow aimed at Jane's defenseless cunt swinging down. Gorman quickly placed the prongs of the prod against Paco's balls and pressed the button.
Paco's body flew through the air and landed on the floor, a scream echoing through the room. His body writhed on the floor for a minute while he clutched his heavy sack in his hand, tears running from his eyes.
"You see, Jane, when you've done well, this can serve you instead of punish you," the doctor said. "I'm afraid, though, that Senor Guzman will be put out about what you've done to his fur cover here."
"I don't care," Jane shouted hysterically. "I couldn't help it. I had to do it! He's a filthy beast and he had it coming!"
"No one will argue that with you, my dear," said Gorman.
Paco stood up and looked very much like he was going to attack the doctor. Gorman stared at him with a steel look in his eyes and ordered him out of the room. A vicious glaze covering his eyes, Paco took a step toward the doctor. Gorman waved the prod at him. Paco stopped, spit at the doctor and then wheeled arpund and limped from the room.
Mark was standing behind the glass, every muscle in his body tense and waiting. If Paco had taken one more step, Mark was ready to race down the corridor and into the room. His body relaxed when he saw Paco stagger through the door.
Consuela placed her hand on Mark's shoulder and whispered in his ear.
"Careful, my noble one. The wrong move could cost you your life, and that blonde cunt isn't worth that!"
"I would say the doctor has an unqualified success," Guzman said. "What do you think, Mark?"
"The change is remarkable," Mark replied in a soft voice.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It was late and they were all tired. Senor Guzman left for Mexico City almost immediately after Jane's performance with Paco. Dr. Gorman, dead tired from the strain of the past ten days, had gone to bed right after Guzman left. Consuela and Mark had a quiet dinner together in the main dining room, neither having much to say and both eating their food with a distinct lack of interest.
Mark's mind was cluttered with a thousand and one thoughts. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he knew that he had to do something. All evening long Consuela had shot him meaningful glances, but he chose to ignore her. He knew she was certain that he was plotting the rescue of Jane Horner and he laughed to himself. He felt sorry for Jane Homer, like one might feel sorry for a dog with its tail caught in a door, but he had no intention of rescuing her. In Mark's mind, Jane Homer had brought most of this on herself.
What concerned Mark was his own rescue. What had seemed noble, exciting and fun at the beginning was now all rotten to him. He not only did not understand Senor Guzman, he had lost all respect for his employer. The problem Mark faced was that he had nowhere to go. The felony conviction in the States placed him between a rock and a hard spot. He could hardly go back and make any sort of a decent life for himself there. The goody-goodies had fixed that for him!
At the same time, he couldn't stay here. Perhaps Consuela was right. Maybe he was noble. He only knew that he couldn't stand by and watch human beings reduced to slaves.
Antonio Marelan arrived shortly after nine, in-tempting a charged silence between Consuela and Mark in the living room. He said that El Jefe, always liking to call Senor Guzman "The Chief," had called and wanted him in on a brief conference that night. They told him to pour himself a drink and they all chatted until Guzman arrived a few mintues later.
"I have to fly to Guadalajara in the morning," Guzman said hurrying into the living room, "so we'll keep this very brief and have a long conference when I get back tomorrow night. Where's Dr. Gorman?"
"He said he was beat and headed for bed right after you left," Mark replied, standing and going to the sideboard for another brandy.
"Well, it's not too important for him to be here tonight," Guzman confined, "he can catch up tomorrow. Consuela, get some pads and pencils so we can make some notes."
Consuela went to the large chest against the wall and began distributing a small pad and a pencil to each of the men.
"Mark, let's get your assignments down first. Dr. Gorman has had Miss Horner sign her name at the bottom of thirty blank sheets of paper. I believe he told her it was for handwriting analysis, but we'll make better use of her signature. I want you to compose a letter that will be sent to each of the groups in Miss Horner's organization. We'll cover big cities only, so make a list of the best places to hit."
"What's this letter supposed to say?" Mark asked.
"I was getting to that. The idea is that Jane has made an amazing discovery that will be most meaningful to these groups. She has kept it secret because it's so important. What she wants them to do is arrange to have a sixteen millimeter motion picture projector at their regularly scheduled meeting next month. Say no more than that. Get them interested and wondering what she is up to, and make certain that they have a sound projector at that meeting. Give it your best public relations twist and make sure they're excited about attending that meeting. You might even mention that she expects a full attendance.
"Have the letters typed on the sheets Miss Horner has signed. No return address, just the date and Mexico at the top. Okay?"
"Okay," Mark responded, "but I sure wish to hell I knew what we're doing."
"We'll go into that soon, Mark. And I think you'll be very pleased with what I have in mind. By the way, send a similar letter to Mildred Thatcher and Reverend James. Have them get a projector for the big meeting next month, and mention to Mildred that she should play this whole thing up in the newsletter."
Guzman walked to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy before continuing.
"Consuela, I want you to arrange a sex orgy. I want a half a dozen strong men and four or five girls down here for an all day orgy this Saturday or Sunday. You can use some of the girls we've had here before or hire prostitutes, but they must be attractive people."
"What about the men?" Consuela asked with a smile on her face.
"I'd like to use some of those minor officials in the government, the ones we always have to pay off, and the ones who come down here expecting us to supply their sex all the time. What I have in mind may come in handy in dealing with them later on. Think you can round up a good crew?"
"The men will be simple," Consuela replied, "but the girls will take some work. You want some real wild, any thing-goes types, I take it."
"Right! No shy ones. I want gals who'll do anything and have themselves a real ball."
"It's short notice, Avillo, but I think I can arrange it."
"Good!"
He poured himself another drink and walked over to Antonio Marelan.
"Yours is the toughest assignment of all, Tony. I want you to find the best cameraman in Mexico City and bring him down here. You'll have to do this tomorrow because the two of you have to do whatever is necessary to the Game Room to make it a movie studio.
"I want the cameras concealed in a small room Mark will show you. The participants in the orgy should not know that they're being photographed or recorded. You'll have to set up special lights and all that, but we'll pass that off as some experimental lighting we've installed. Think you can do it?"
"I guess so, Senor Guzman, but it's one hell of a tall order!"
"That's precisely why I called you down here to handle it. It has to be sound. I'd prefer color, but black and white will do if color is too difficult. Pay the man whatever he asks, but get me the best man available.
"And while you're at it, find me the best film editor in town. We're on a tight schedule and he'll have to go to work immediately after the film is developed. I don't want any hacks or drunken bums. We need the best man in the business, a real artist. Okay?"
"I'll head back tonight and see what I can dig up."
"Good! If you have any problems, call Mark. I'll be in Guadalajara most of the day tomorrow and Mark'll give you a hand where he can. In fact, you might send down a couple of typists to do Mark's letters for him. This whole thing is on a crash basis."
Guzman shook Antonio's hand as he headed for the door to get his car in order to race back to Mexico City. Mark and Consuela exchanged puzzled looks. Consuela shrugged her shoulders and headed for the stairs.
"I know you have a million questions, Mark," Guzman said, putting his glass down and following Consuela up the stairs. "Just be patient with me. We'll talk the whole thing out as soon as I get back."
CHAPTER TWELVE
"I tell you, bringing marijuana in at this point could be a disaster!" said Dr. Gorman, an angry edge creeping into his voice as he faced his employer across the table in the gazebo. "We've accomplished miracles with her from the sexual standpoint. She'll react to any discussion of marijuana, and that reaction could very well destroy all we have created."
"Calm down, Carl. I've only developed this idea in the last forty-eight hours, so I couldn't have covered all the bases," Guzman replied. "I recognize the danger, but perhaps this can be overcome with a clever script and some good film editing. We have Miss Horner deliver one of her famous anti-marijuana statements, which Marks writes so that by removing a sentence here and there it becomes exactly what we want. Then in the same setting and with the same clothes, we have her do a sex statement later. Afterward, we slice them up and put them together. How about it, Mark?"
Mark was standing at the edge of the gazebo looking to the east where the twin volcanos were hidden behind a thin veil of mist. His mind was on his personal situation, but with an effort he pulled it back to the subject at hand.
"I know very little about film editing, Senor ' Guzman," Mark replied, "but I don't see any reason why it couldn't be done. Tell me exactly what you want and I'll have a talk with the men Tony brought down, and we'll see what we can do."
Jane could hardly believe her good fortune. Her own room in the main house! A bed with sheets and blankets! Her own clothes, all cleaned and pressed, her panties and bra washed and sparkling white! And she was free to walk about the house. She could even go outside if she called Dr. Gorman and arranged for someone to go with her.
The first thing she did when Dr. Gorman brought her to the room was to run about opening and closing drawers in the chest on the wall. Then she raced to the window, the first one she had seen in what seemed to her an eternity, touching the glass with the tips of her fingers and opening and closing the window to prove to herself that it was real. Tears flooded her eyes when she opened the closet and found her two suitcases, the ones she had left at the hotel in Mexico City what seemed like a hundred years ago. She unpacked them, admiring the clothes as if she had never seen them before. Putting things in the chest and hanging dresses in the closet gave her a feeling of being in touch with reality. She almost wondered if the past few weeks had been a horrible nightmare.
The trouble was that Jane's mind was all a jumble. She couldn't concentrate on any one thing too long. It made her nervous to try to remember things. Jane could only be comfortable living for the moment.
Her undergarments made her feel uncomfortable, so she slipped them off and put on a multi-colored cotton print. Looking at herself in the mirror, Jane was thankful that she had a bust line which needed no support. She'd always been able to get by without a bra when she felt like it. The dress was loose at the waist and Jane felt certain she had lost weight recently. She remembered the cotton dress as always being marginal, just a bit tight.
Disregarding stockings and slipping into some white pumps, she went downstairs and found the dining room. She no sooner sat down than a maid in a white uniform appeared with a steaming dish of arroz con polio, a crisp garden salad, warm rolls and piping hot coffee. Jane didn't mind eating alone; it was so good to be free again Jane didn't mind a bit.
The workmen began just before noon on the Game Room. Holes were cut in the walls for the cameras, wires were strung back and forth across the ceiling, lights were installed, checked, changed, and then more lights added. Men stood with light meters in various parts of the room calling their readings to a man in a bright, black and white checked coat. The man would make notes and then call for more light here and less there. Mark, Dr. Gorman, Tony and two men from Mexico City held hurried conferences and then changed the location of furniture.
Microphones were hidden in the silk folds across the ceiling and concealed under the beds. The complicated wiring to a master control board had to be torn apart three times and redone until each microphone had its own control. Needles on dials bounced and vibrated as sound levels were tested and retested.
Mark and Dr. Gorman left the Game Room at five. The workmen gathered their tools and called the job complete at eight, but no one was completely satisfied. They had done what normally took three days in under nine hours, and everyone felt they should have more time and more tests. Jorje Gonzales, the director, had serious doubts that the generator on the estate would carry the load required for the lights, but he would do the best he could with what they had given him to work with, after all, one hundred thousand pesos for two days' work was something you didn't run into every day!
The lights blinded Jane, made her eyes water and perspiration form under her arms. She was seated on a French provincial chair before the large micro in the game room. A screen had been placed behind her and there was a small marble cocktail table at her side.
She was confused. Dr. Gorman had tried to explain it all to her half a dozen times, but she was still confused. It was something about a rehearsal to see if she had potential as an actress. Mark had given her a script and she was supposed to recite it from memory. They had told her to pretend that she was talking to a group of her friends. That was something else. They said that if she did well they might let her make a short film to send home to her friends so they would know she was enjoying her vacation. Jane could hardly remember her friends, and she really didn't care about sending them a message.
Then there was all the business about sitting down at the beginning, standing up on a certain sentence, turning and walking toward the mirror-all that! Jane knew she would never remember it all. She wanted to do well, to please Dr. Gorman who had been so good to her, but she just knew she wouldn't be able to do everything they wanted.
Dr. Gorman signaled her from the side of the room.
"Hello, I'm Jane Homer and I'm so glad you ... come this evening."
"Cut!" a voice boomed from the other side of the room. The man in the bright colored sports coat came over to Jane.
"Relax, Miss Horner," he said. "You have to relax and be natural. Just pretend you're talking to your friends. You don't sound like that when you talk to your friends, now do you? Don't worry about making mistakes. We'll handle those as we come to them. All I want you to do is relax and be natural."
"Please, Jane, just do what he says. Relax and be yourself," Gorman added, as the director moved back to the side of the room.
"Hello, I'm Jane Horner and I'm so glad you could come this evening. I have something important to tell you and I'm using this means because I can't be there personally.
"As you know, in the past we have disucssed how marijuana leads to immoral sexual behavior, especially among our younger generation. We criticized youngsters for their permissive attitude toward sex and their openly sensual behavior."
Jane looked up with a helpless and confused expression on her face.
"I'm sorry," she stammered. "I think I was supposed to stand up here or something. And I've forgotten what comes next."
"Don't worry, Jane, that was excellent," Dr. Gorman said. "You're doing very well. Very well indeed. We know you can't remember it all, so just stop when you've forgotten your lines and we'll start from there. If you keep this up, I'm certain you'll be able to sleep in your own room in the house tonight. Here's the script. Study it and we'll go on in a moment or two."
The thought of sleeping in a bed with blankets and having a window of her own was enough to make it all worth while to Jane. She read the words on the pages carefully, saying them aloud several times.
"You can just start from where you left off, Jane," the director said.
"This horrible behavior not only ruins the individual, it destroys the very society in which we live. These wild sex orgies breed degenerates, and that's only one short step from rape and murder."
Dr. Gorman gestured with his hands and Jane stood up and continued.
"Medical men tell us there's no relationship between marijuana and sexual conduct. As intelligent people we must bow to their scientific facts. At times, one cannot help but think they are wrong. Never having smoked a marijuana cigarette, I can tell you only what others have told me. You become very stimulated, sexually aroused, and you have to have sex. It intensifies the contact and makes the act more exciting. It prolongs the orgasm. Medical men should talk to the potheads to learn the truth about how marijuana and sex are tied together.
"I have just completed extensive personal research...."
Jane stammered and then shrugged her shoulders in frustration.
"I'm sorry, I've forgotten what comes next. And wasn't I supposed to walk to the mirror on that line?" she asked.
"Relax, Jane, you're doing just fine," Dr. Gorman said.
She picked up her script and concentrated hard on the words which seemed to swim before her eyes. Over and over again, Jane practiced the things she was supposed to say.
"Okay, let's take it from that 'personal research' part," said the director.
Jane felt comfortable with what she was saying. These were words she had said before, words that somehow comforted her. She went on, remembering the movements she was supposed to make. They stopped a dozen times and she practiced her lines out loud, placing emphasis where the director wanted it. She could not hear the hum of the camera in the background, and she had no idea she was being filmed. It was all like a big game, tiring but fun.
It was almost midnight when they quit. Two hours and thousands of feet of film for what would be a three minute segment. They all congratulated her and Dr. Gorman said they would try a different script in the morning.
Jane went to bed in her room in the main house, happy and content.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jane was in all her glory. She was surrounded by young people in the flower-decked gazebo, a trio off to the side playing those lilting Latin songs and gay laughter filling the air. A snack table was set on the lawn and maids in sparkling white uniforms were serving iced drinks of every imaginable description. Consuela was acting as hostess, but Jane with her fair complexion and blonde hair was the center of attention. The young men gathered around her like moths to a flame, and several of the girls cast envious glances at her.
Jane had slept like a log, her first night with the feel of sheets against her skin throwing her into a deep relaxing sleep she hadn't known for weeks. She awoke refreshed, eager to begin the day. After breakfast with Consuela, Mark, Gorman, the director and Tony Marelan, Jane rushed back to her room to change. She'd put on a fresh outfit this morning, but Gorman insisted she wear exactly what she had worn the night before. They were going to play a game, he explained, having Jane give them a lecture on the wonders of sex. She'd have a new script to learn and show off how much she had learned about acting the night before. They all agreed it would be great fun, and Senor Guzman promised her a special reward if she did well. Jane liked doing it, especially in front of the big mirror where she could watch herself. June Horner enjoyed being the center of attention in almost any situation.
The morning had gone well. She had made only a few mistakes, and everyone thought what she was doing and saying was very funny. Jane herself laughed at the last thing they had her do. When she was finished talking, Jane was to reach down and grab her dress at the hem and pull it off over her head, shouting, "Let's have an orgy!" They had to do that scene a few extra times because she kept getting the dress caught on her chin, and each time it became funnier to her. She laughed as she pulled the dress up, exposing her creamy white, voluptuous body in the nude, and then threw it in the air. That was her own idea, but they all liked it.
All of it had taken less than an hour. Then Jane, Mark and Consuela changed and went for a swim. Splashing around in the warm water and drying in the sun made Jane feel ten years younger. Mark warned her about sunburn, so Jane sat in the shade of the cabanas until it was time to go and change.
The guests began arriving shortly after mid-day. Maria and Belita were the first to arrive. Jane was certain they couldn't be much over sixteen, if they were that, but she couldn't help admiring what beautiful girls they were. Maria was short and petite, with large, rounded breasts that seemed about to escape from the low-cut dress that barely covered her nipples. Her face was almost a perfect oval; red, pouting lips which ended in two small dimples and long black eyelashes giving her a sensual look. Belita was tall and slender. Her long, perfectly tapered legs ended in tight, round globes for buttocks. Jane heard Mark say that was the tightest ass he had seen in years. Belita's breasts were small, but perfectly formed and her waist was tiny. Her gangling walk marked her youth. Jane guessed her to be fifteen at the most.
Rita, a plump, well rounded, but not actually fat redhead, arrived a few minutes after Maria and Belita. Her red hair fell to her shoulders and framed a light olive face with gorgeous green eyes. You don't get that color from a bottle, Jane thought; it has to be natural. Rita had that dark red hair girls spent fortunes trying to imitate. The points of her large, ripe breasts were the only sharp lines on Rita's body. The rest was a mass of soft curves.
Jane liked her immediately. Her eyes sparkled and she laughed almost constantly, matching Jane's exuberant, gay mood. Of the three, Rita's English was the best, but all the girls were delighted at the opportunity to practice their English with Jane.
The men came in pairs. Jane couldn't pronounce, much less remember, their last names. Carlos was tall, darker than the others, with black, wavy hair. His pearl white teeth shone in a smile that covered most of his face and made him very attractive. Pedro was short, but built like an athlete, with muscular legs and arms. Raul and Francisco, who everybody called Pancho, arrived together in a new Lancia which drew a great deal of attention. Raul was almost six feet tall and had a slender, wiry frame. His arching eyebrows, long Roman nose and aquamarine eyes reminded Jane of a photo she once saw of an Italian movie actor. Pancho was heavy set, but his magnetic personality made him one of the most attractive men there.
Jaime and Miguel were the last to arrive, apologizing for their delay with an elaborate joke about traffic in Mexico City. Both were young men in their late teens, sons of powerful and influential men in high government office. Jaime sported a close-cropped beard that ran along the edge of his jaw which appealed to Jane. She'd always found men with beards exciting and mysterious and Jaime reminded her of a boy she knew in the orphanage.
Jane's first look at Miguel frightened her. He was tall and handsome in the clean-cut college fashion, but Jane saw a streak of cruelty in his eyes hidden behind his outwardly angelic appearance.
She breathed a sigh of relief when he walked right past her and began talking to Consuela.
What amazed Jane was how well all the men spoke English. Although they'd hesitate every now and then for a word, it was almost like talking to a group of Americans.
Jaime's mood was so lighthearted she accepted one of the long, thin cigarettes the maid passed around in the beautiful teak-wood box. She had never smoked before, but everyone was lighting up and Jane wanted to be a part of this marvelous, carefree group. She looked at Gorman, who nodded his head that it would be all right and accepted a light from Jaime. The strong, biting, sweet taste of the smoke in her mouth almost gagged her. Jaime laughed and asked her if this was her first stick. She admitted she had never smoked before and he taught her how to inhale deeply.
Jane noticed that the others had a far-away, glazed look in their eyes. Conversation slowed and a warm, contented feeling began flowing through her body. She felt that her hat was much too tight and reached up to push it back only to find that she wasn't wearing a hat. That made Jane giggle and the others began laughing with her.
"Why don't you all go to the Game Room, take your clothes off and really enjoy yourselves?" said Senor Guzman, nodding to Gorman to precede them and make sure all was in readiness.
Floating on a warm, soft cloud, Jane allowed Jaime to undress her. He took her in his arms, pressed his hot lips against hers, probed her eager mouth with his searching tongue and slowly unzipped her dress. Reaching down, he took the bottom of her dress and raised it above her head. A gasp of admiration came from several mouths. Jane's proud, white breasts stood firmly in the air, the strawberry nipples reaching for the ceiling. All eyes fastened on the soft blonde hair which crested her pink slit.
"Una rubia de veras!" murmured Maria. "She's a true blonde!"
Jaime laid her gently on the large round bed and began taking his own clothes off. Jane watched the others undress, their naked bodies dancing before her like something from a wild ballet. She saw Marie drop to her knees and take Pancho's slender shaft into her mouth. Carlos had pushed Belita down on the bed and buried his head between her thighs, his tongue making a loud lapping noise as he explored her deep-red cunt, hidden behind a mat of coarse black hair. Miguel came up to them and kneeled over Belita's face, poking against her lips with his blunt cock until she took it in her mouth.
Rita was on her knees next to Jane, Pedro behind her jabbing at her tiny asshole with his blood-inflated prick. Jane was looking straight through Rita's legs. Behind the dark red hair that covered Rita's pink slit, Jane saw Pedro's balls bouncing back and forth as he rammed his prick up Rita's ass. She felt a quickening in her own thighs as she watched Rita's body quiver from the onslaught.
Then she felt something hot and hard against her nipple and looked up to see Carlos rubbing the head of his cock against her breast.
It was the most beautiful cock she had ever seen, long and slender and pointed like a dart. She reached out and took it in her hand, pulling him forward and reaching up with her mouth to capture it between her hungry lips. Carlos was kneeling over her. He began a slow, thrusting movement with his hips, pushing his cock all the way into her mouth. She felt his balls rest on her chin, then begin beating against it as he fucked her mouth with short jabs.
Raul stood looking down at the mass of heaving bodies on the bed. Twisting and turning, they moved into a variety of positions. The most beautiful, and only unoccupied, sex organ before him was Jane's golden-crested cunt. Pushing Carlos slightly to one side without dislodging his surging cock from Jane's mouth, Raul pulled Jane's soft thighs apart and knelt between her legs. The pink gash before him was quivering with excitement. He reached out and pulled the lips open with his fingers, gazing at the exposed flesh with a hunger stirring in his loins. He lowered his head and probed the red orifice with his tongue, shoving it far inside her and then withdrawing it to lap at the inner folds of her moist lips.
Jane's head was nailed to the bed with Carlos' tumid cock. She felt the hot, moist tongue lapping at her cunt, but she couldn't raise her head to see who was providing this delightful feeling. Then, without warning, the tongue stopped and something large and blunt was pressing into her hole. She felt the walls of her vagina expand as it sunk deeper and deeper inside her, a strange pair of balls sliding along her thighs and bouncing off her ass.
Carlos was using her mouth like a cunt, ramming his cock in and out with hard thrusts of his hips. Jane pressed her tongue against the throbbing penis and let it slide up and down on the sweet, moist surface as he pressed his wiry pubic hair against her lips and sought to sink his weapon down deep in her throat. She let her fingers roam over the tight, smooth skin of his belly, feeling his muscles ripple as he rammed harder and harder into her mouth.
Jane's body felt like a giant bell, the clapper racing from one side to the other. Raul had pulled her knees into the air and was pushing his pelvis against her in long, piston-like strokes that sunk his cock deep into her belly. She felt it hit her cervix and bounce off, sending tiny ripples of pleasure coursing through her entire system. A low moan caught in Jane's throat as she realized that both men were increasing their tempo, getting ready to pump that delicious hot liquid into her from both ends. Her body was like a tight spring, ready to unwind at any moment. She wanted to scream, to beat her fists on the bed, to shout with joy at the physical bliss she felt. But Jane's mouth was completely filled with a surging cock that demanded every ounce of her strength. Her body went into short spasms, jerking and shuddering as she swam through the depths of her greatest climax. She felt her hot come spreading through her cunt and splashing against Raul's pubic hair as he shoved his entire body against her.
Then a double explosion rocked her. First it was in her mouth, jets of searing come spurting against her inner cheeks, running down the center of her tongue and cascading into her throat. She was sucking hard to pull every last drop from the glorious cock in her mouth when she felt a rush of hot juice run through her vagina and up to her belly. She contracted her muscles to pull it deeper inside her.
"Do you think they can hear the cameras?" Guzman asked.
The small room behind the mirror was crowded with recording equipment, controls and large cameras mounted on tripods. All the furniture had been removed and the men stood against the back wall to allow the two men on the cameras plenty of freedom to move around.
"Not a chance," the director answered. "We checked it out a couple of times. These electric motors run quietly. Besides, I don't think anyone in there would hear a bomb go off right now!"
Jane was on the edge of the bed resting when Maria came over to her. Maria placed her hands on Jane's shoulders and pushed her back on the bed. Then she knelt over Jane's face, her knees pressing against Jane's sides.
"I want to taste Raul's come," she said laughingly. "Oh, what a beautiful cunt! So soft and blonde! You can taste Pancho's come. He left a big load in me, and he's got the sweetest come in the whole world!"
Maria scooted down until her wet, dripping cunt was pressed against Jane's mouth. Then she lowered her body and sent her tongue darting into Jane's gaping pink slit.
Jane's tongue probed the raw flesh pressing against her lips. A salty taste flooded her mouth. She felt Maria's muscles contract and pull her tongue deep into the inner reaches of her cunt. She pulled it back and began attacking the erect clitoris that was grinding against her lips. Her body jerked as Maria sank her teeth into Jane's clitoris. It was a sweet, delicious pain that swept all through her. Then the young girl's scorching tongue began flicking against the clitoris, sending a frantic tingling sensation through Jane. She grasped Maria's head between her thighs and rammed her pelvis hard against the young girl's face.
Pedro and Jaime pulled the girls apart, their balls aching with desire from watching the two girls eat each other almost alive.
"Fuck me!" Jane screamed. "Somebody fuck me!"
Pedro fell on top of her, pushing her knees into her breasts and holding her ankles above her head. Two holes stared up at him and he sunk his swollen cock in first one and then the other.
"Aauugghh!" Jane cried as the raging cock rammed into her dry anus. The pain shot through her body like fire. She felt two hands grab her ankles and press them down against the fur cover, elevating her ass even higher in the air. Pedro leaned on the underside of her thighs and braced himself for a powerful attack. He lunged deep, feeling his pubic hair tangle with the soft, blonde hair on Jane's mound.
"Oohh! Fuck me! Keep it up! Fuck me!" Jane moaned, as she felt the searing cock shoot far up inside her.
Digging his fingers into her soft, white thighs, Pedro hoisted himself to his knees and battered against Jane's exposed cunt with all his might. His surging cock looked like a piston on a racing engine, his balls rang against his globes like the clappers on a fire bell, and Jane suddenly found herself mad with lust.
"Give me a cock to suck! Somebody, please! I want a cock in my mouth!" she cried.
Pancho was holding her ankles. He crawled up and knelt over Jane so that his hard cock was resting across her face. Because of their positions, Jane couldn't get it in her mouth. She ran her tongue over the purple head, poking the tip of it into the tiny slit at the end and nibbling at the taut skin with her wet lips. His balls were in her eyes and he moved his turgid organ across her face in a grinding, sawing motion that drove Jane wild. Her tongue was lapping against the sides of his shaft like it was a candy stick. She felt it swell, and then Pancho exploded, shooting hot jets of sticky white come across her neck. Giant drops of the molten juice fell on Jane' breasts, covering them with a gleaming coat of moisture. He pulled back and let her hungry tongue lick the last drops that dripped from his rapidly deflating member. She guzzled them, rolling them around on her tongue and swallowing what she could pull into her mouth.
Pancho let loose of her ankles and Jane immediately shot her legs out and wrapped them around Pedro's pumping hips. She used her heels, kicking furiously against Pedro's heaving, surging ass to force him even deeper within her womb.
"Fuck me, Pedro! Fuck harder! Deeper! Oohh, that's it! Sink it clear to my belly. Fuck! Fuck! Aauugghh!"
"She's not acting now," the director chuckled as he signaled to one of the cameramen to move in with a zoom lens for a close shot of Jane's face. "She really loves it, doesn't she?"
No one bothered to answer. Each man in the room was lost in his own thoughts, especially Mark Wilson. Mark was leaning against the back wall, his arms folded across his chest. The sight of the twisting bodies before him excited and sickened him at the same time. A moment ago he had been consumed with a burning hatred for himself. Now he was completely devoid of feeling. It's easy, once you've made the decision, he told himself. Even the decision itself was simple, once you got rid of all the ifs and ands and buts, which were really nothing more than an excuse for not making the decision in the first place. He had no idea what he was going to do, but he knew that would only come after he had made the decision to do something.
Jane was sprawled on one of the smaller beds where she'd flopped after she'd returned from the bathroom.
She watched Rita with two men on the large bed, and Jane couldn't believe what she was seeing. Carlos was flat on his back, his stiff cock aimed at the ceding. Rita crouched over him in a sitting position and lowered her body until her asshole was impaled on his cock. Then she leaned back and flattened herself on top of Carlos. Miguel came up and climbed into position between their outstretched legs, carefully moving forward so that his cock was poised at the entrance to Rita's cunt. Slowly, Miguel moved up and shoved his cock into Rita, so that she had two throbbing cocks up her, separated by only a very thin wall of flesh.
"Mother of God that's good!" she cried. "Rub your cocks together! Fuck me, you two studs, fuck me!"
Jane could almost feel the two pricks in her. She had to try it! She had to have it that way! She stood up and raced to the bed.
"I want it that way!" she screamed, pointing to Rita and the two men. "I want a cock in my cunt and up my ass at the same time! I have to have it! Please!"
Pancho and Raul walked over to her and placed her on the bed on her side.
It happened after the party, when everybody was dressing to go to dinner in the main house. Jane was calm, her body satiated with physical pleasure. She was pleased with the exciting things she had experienced, and she whistled a gay tune as she pulled her dress over her head.
Carlos walked up and offered her a cigarette, one of the long, thin kind she had smoked earlier in the gazebo. She shook her head and thanked him. He became insistent.
"Look, doll," he said, "marijuana paid for all of this. It pays for the whole business down here. Have to help your friend Guzman make another million, don't we?"
Jane fell forward like she had been hit with a blow in the stomach that knocked all her wind out. Blinding lights swirled through her brain. She gasped, vomited and then screamed. It was a loud, earsplitting, blood-curdling scream that brought everyone in the room up short. She slashed at Carlos, raking her nails across his face and leaving three long lines of dripping blood. Then she turned and ran to the chairs, turning them over one by one. She fell against the wall and beat it with her fists, slipped to the floor and went into hysterical sobbing and crying, then leaped up and ran to the screen at the far end of the room.
When she reappeared, Jane had a long whip in each hand, slashing through the air and screaming wildly. It took four men to subdue her. They finally carried her to the main house. Gorman gave her an injection while they held her on her bed. In three minutes she was unconscious.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
After coffee and brandy, the guests left, winding their way along the toll road through the mountains on the hour drive back to Mexico City. The cameras and equipment had been dismounted during dinner and the film was being rushed to a lab in Mexico City where it would be developed and then edited. A maid was posted in a chair in Jane's room, instructed to call Dr. Gorman if Jane might awaken and harm herself or someone else. He explained that she was in a state of shock, apparently triggered by the remark from Carlos about marijuana.
"I doubt there is any lasting damage," he told the group assembled in the living room, "but it's too early to say. I'll know more by tomorrow, and I suppose we have some decisions to make in that area anyway."
Mark was sitting back in the large colonial chair with his hands clasped in his lap watching Dr. Gorman intently. Consuela had just brought in fresh coffee in a silver service and was pouring for each of the three men. Mark put his hand over his cup when she approached.
"Thanks, but if I have another cup of coffee I won't sleep for a week!"
"Yes, I suppose we will have to consider that problem," Senor Guzman said to Dr. Gorman. "I frankly hadn't given it any thought."
Mark, who now understood most of what was going on, couldn't contain himself any longer. None of it made any sense.
"I've got a few questions, if this is the appropriate time to air them," Mark said. "I've done everything you assigned me, but to be perfectly honest it doesn't make one damned bit of sense to me.
"You've done well, Mark," Guzman replied.
"I wasn't fishing for compliments, Senor Guzman. You pay me well for what I do here, but I can't make heads nor tails out of what I've done. As I see it, all of this film we've taken is going to be cleverly edited into a pornographic movie starring Jane Horner, with an introduction by Jane Horner."
"Precisely," Guzman replied with a smile. "And it should be quite a stag film!"
"That be as it may," Mark continued, "you're then going to send copies of this film to about thirty P.T.A. and church groups who will all view it on the same night about ten days from now."
"Correct," Guzman replied, lighting a long cigar and sipping his coffee while Mark continued.
"From what I wrote on the script it would seem that the theme of the movie is that Jane is telling them that marijuana does contribute to sexual behavior, that she has experimented herself and finds sex with marijuana just great."
"Don't forget to add," Dr. Gorman interrupted, "that she wants the groups to stop persecuting the kids for enjoying some of nature's fun."
"It seems to me that you understand it all very clearly, Mark," Senor Guzman said.
"No, not at all! I've just stated what I know is going to happen. What I don't understand is why. It seems to me that these groups of upright citizens will go into orbit when they see this film. They'll be hopping mad and sharpening spears for battle!"
"Then it seems to me we're defeating our purpose!"
"Which is?" Guzman asked.
"To see marijuana sales go up not down. The more tolerant the society is, the more we sell. It's as simple as that. When they get tough and crack down, our sales suffer. And believe me, this film will bring on the biggest crackdown in history!"
Senor Guzman motioned to Consuela. She picked up the silver coffee service and poured him another cup while he answered Mark.
"So you think we're working at cross purposes for our own goal?" he said. "Well, let's discuss some basic economics for a moment. If marijuana sold at a penny a reefer, where would we be? We'd be in deep financial trouble! So, you see, in the law of supply and demand, price must be a factor. That's why we can't afford to have marijuana legalized. If it were legal and taxed, all the profits would be gone from the business. Look at what happened to the liquor industry! During prohibition they were turning two and three hundred per cent profit on their investment. Today, they're pleased to earn five per cent on their invested capital."
"I understand all that," Mark said somewhat impatiently.
"I hope so, Mark, because that's what this is all about. This entire project is designed to do two things: create a demand, and keep the price up. When the leading anti-marijuana advocate turns pothead and sex maniac, the word is bound to leak out. Kids and adults alike will hear about it, and secretly they'll want to try marijuana and see what kicks they can put in their own lives. At the same time, pressure will be put on to really stomp down on the marijuana trade. There will be arrests and convictions, and marijuana will be just a little harder to come by. The result? The price remains firm, or even has a slight increase at the same time the demand goes up!"
Mark was stunned. It was so simple, yet it had completely escaped him!
"What about the adverse publicity?" he asked, his mind reeling under the impact of what he was now beginning to see.
"Mark," his employer answered, "we're one business that thrives on adverse publicity. Every time some local citizen's group cracks down on pot, our sales jump. Injustices like your felony conviction gain us hundreds of new allies. The law forces them underground. They see how the law is used by a small minority to rule the large majority and they become a lawless society, defying the very thing of which they are so proud-their social order. Take a good look at the United States today. It's going downhill fast. Demonstrations, riots, assassinations, heavy debt and personal bankruptcy. What causes all this? It's simple: the people have lost their respect for the law. Bonnie and Clyde are heroes because they defied the law. The law has become a tool used by a few miserable, frustrated Puritans to hold down the great majority.
"Give us plenty of bad publicity! It makes us look better, and it makes our product more desirable. As businessmen, we could hardly ask for more!"
Mark stood up and walked to the window. Stars twinkled through the branches of the jacarandas and the moon, a pale yellow coin, was rising above the mountain ridge He could see a few glimmering lights in the homes of the late people in Cuernavaca below. He knew his next question was dangerous, but he had to ask it.
"And what about the girl upstairs, Senor Guzman? We've ruined her life. What do we do with her now? What does she do?"
Consuela looked sharply at Mark, and Avillo Guzman's brow knitted with the beginning of a frown.
"You yourself said she deserved no better, Mark," Guzman replied. "I'm sure the doctor can bring her through her current crisis. She can pick up the pieces and start her life over. It's the very same thing many of her victims have had to do. She'll be all right. A little sadder perhaps, but much wiser."
"Do you really believe that?" Mark replied.
"Of course I believe it!" Guzman shot right back, a slight edge creaping into his usually well-controlled voice. "In any event, I'll not lose any sleep over Miss Horner's fate. She served us well, and that's all that concerns me."
"We could sell her for a handsome price on the African market," Dr. Gorman interjected. "With that lush, creamy body of hers, we could get the African whorehouses to pay a fortune. When those Negro bucks get hold of a white woman they maul her. Girls don't last long over there, and they have to pay good prices for them."
"My God, Doctor!" Mark said. "She's a human being! You can't go around selling human beings like they were horses!"
Hoping to head off the argument which was obviously brewing, Consuela stood up, stretched and yawned.
"I don't care what you do with Miss Jane Horner," she said, "I'm going to bed and get a good night's rest!"
"Consuela's right," Guzman said. "We're all tired. We can worry about Miss Horner's future tomorrow. Let's call it a night and get our beauty sleep."
"Senor Guzman," Mark said. "Yes?"
"I wonder if I might have a few minutes with you privately?"
"Mark, why don't we wait until first thing in the morning when we're both fresh? Let's you and I have breakfast together in my suite at nine, okay?"
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
All hell broke loose at eight-thirty the next morning. One of the maids ran into the main house screaming at the top of her lungs. The sound of hurried footsteps and more screaming brought Avillo Guzman out of his room pulling on a robe. He ran into Mark in the hall where they exchanged puzzled shrugs and raced downstairs together. Mark had jumped out of bed with the first scream. He pulled on blue denims and a white turtleneck, slipped his sockless feet into some white canvas shoes and ran toward Jane's room. He opened her door, found the maid asleep in the chair and Jane sitting bolt upright in the bed, realized the danger was somewhere else and started back down the hall, where he ran into Guzman.
There was no one downstairs, but through one of the French windows they saw a group of the maids and several gardeners gathered down near the gazebo. Side by side, they ran to the group.
"My God!" Mark said, looking at the mutilated body crumpled on the lawn. It was stripped to the waist, the back covered with long, ugly stripes of congealed blood that could only have come from a whip. More than a dozen deep wounds from what must have been a large knife covered the back. Dried blood was everywhere.
Mark reached down and turned the inert form over on its back. The women gasped and turned away. Mark thought he was going to be sick. He turned his head away and stood up.
"Christ!" he muttered as he forced his throat from coining up into his mouth.
The front of the body was worse than the back. Ugly, red gashes covered the chest and neck, and knife wounds were everywhere. The slacks were ripped open and the man had been castrated, the bloody stump of his penis shoved along with his testicles into his gaping mouth. The face was untouched and Mark immediately recognized the started and anguished features of Dr. Carl Gorman.
Avillo Guzman had seen much violence in his life, but nothing to equal this.
"Where's Paco?" he said in a quiet voice.
"No esta aqui, Senor," one of the maids answered.
"Se fue en el Volkswagen muy temprano," said the man in charge of the garage. "Pense que usted se le mando a la ciudad."
"Well, Mark," Guzman said, "it seems that Paco took the Volkswagen and left early this morning. Why in hell would he do a thing like this?"
Guzman turned to the garage man and issued rapid orders in Spanish. Three of the men left on the run. Even with Mark's limited Spanish he knew that Paco was now the target of an all-out underground manhunt.
"I'll have to get some clothes on and run right down and handle this with the police," Guzman said. "They're extremely touchy about murder, and I want to nip this in the bud before it goes too far. I'm afraid our little conference will have to be put off until this afternoon, Mark. I'd appreciate if it you would see that the body isn't moved until we know what we have to do as far as the police are concerned. You might also look after Miss Horner until I get back."
Without waiting for a reply, Guzman walked rapidly to the house to dress. Mark had one of the gardeners bring a large canvas and they covered the remains of Dr. Gorman. He left instructions that no one was to touch the body and then returned to the house. As he entered, Mark saw Guzman and Consuela rushing out the front door.
"We'll be gone until late, Mark," he called back over his shoulder. "I called and the damned district man is down in Taxco today. We have to drive all the way down there because he's the only man who can keep this quiet."
Mark sat down in the living room and a maid brought him a cup of steaming coffee. His mind was processing thoughts like a computer. He lit a cigarette, ground it out and then lit another. He stood up and, hands in his pockets, paced the living room. Then he stopped and stared out of the window for a moment. Mark spun around and headed for the library. Hurriedly he rolled a sheet of paper in one of the typewriters and let his fingers fly across the keys.
"Dear Senor Guzman...."
Jane awoke with a start at the sound of the first scream. Her mind was a jumble and she was frightened, very frightened. At first the room was strange to her, but then, with horrifying clarity, things began coming back to her. She had trouble sorting her thoughts, but Jane sensed she was in danger.
Mark opened the door to her room, and with one glance at his face Jane could tell he was worried. He slammed the door and the maid jumped from the chair and ran to the window. A moment later she ran to the door and left the room.
Alone, Jane again tried to sort her thoughts, tried to put them in some logical order. What was going on? What was she doing here? Why was she so afraid? She remembered everything at once and the walls of the room seemed to crash in on her. Her vision blurred and things seemed to be spinning through space.
The door burst open and Mark came into the room.
"Jane! Wake up!"
"I thought I was awake," Jane replied.
"Get some clothes on and throw what you can in your bag. We're getting out of here. You have to be ready in five minutes. Can you make it, or do you want me to help you?"
"I don't understand, Mark."
"There's no time for explanations now. I'll do my best to explain on the way to Mexico City. I'm not even sure I know what I'm doing, but I know we have to get out of here."
"I'll make it," Jane said, throwing the covers back and climbing out of bed.
"Good. I'll throw some of my things together and be back for you in a few minutes. Don't leave the room until I get here."
Getting the car had been easy. No one was around the garage, so Mark grabbed some keys off the rack and backed the Chevrolet out. He was certain that one of the maids must have seen them leave, but they wouldn't find that unusual because people had been flying from the house in all directions that morning. He wound the car along the side roads to the old road and then up to the toll road. Once they were on the toll road, Mark pressed the accelerator to the floor. The Chevrolet moved ahead slowly. It was a long, steep climb around many curves before they would level out and head down to Mexico City on the other side of the mountains.
Mark opened the conversation once he had the car rolling along the road.
"Jane, how much do you know about what's been going on?"
"I'm not sure. I think I understand most of it, but my mind is terribly confused."
Mark patiently explained everything to her. Jane interrupted him several times for an explanation of some small point and then nodded her head as the story unfolded before her.
"I had gathered as much," she said when he was finished. "Of course, like you, I couldn't understand why. I suppose it does make sense, though. I'm just not intelligent or sophisticated enough to understand that type of mind.
"Mark, why can't I ruin everything for them by going back and explaining exactly what happened?"
Mark cursed, not at Jane but at a truck driver who changed lanes to pass another truck and caused him to slow down.
"I thought of that, Jane, but it would end up with the same result. In a way, it would be playing into their hands. Everyone would be outraged when they heard your story. It would leak out and help sell more marijuana, and your people would step up their drive. That's exactly what the organization wants. You'd never stop the film from being brought in. If your group refused to view it, the organization would sell it for five dollars a copy all over the country as a stag film. People would recognize you and you'd be ruined."
Jane sighed and slumped down in her seat.
"Do you want to go back, Jane?"
"Yes. No! Oh, Mark, I don't know! I'm so terribly upset and confused I just don't know what I want to do. I'm not the same person I was a few weeks ago. I couldn't go back to the life I had before. To be perfectly honest, I don't think I believe in the cause any more. I don't think I ever really did. Maybe it was just a crutch, like Doctor Gorman said."
Mark heard her sob and begin crying.
"Get a grip on yourself, Jane! You're not in the least responsible for what has happened. You can't blame yourself for anything, and crying and feeling sorry for yourself won't help."
"I am responsible, Mark," she said in a soft voice. "At least partially. I knew what was going on. I just wouldn't admit it to myself. You don't know it, but I was a mixed up girl before I ever came down here. Doctor Gorman helped me look at myself in the mirror, and I didn't like what I saw. Right now I feel like I'm walking a thin, tight rope to keep my sanity. What am I going to do with myself, Mark?"
To take her mind off her own problems, Mark began telling her the story of his life. He explained how he had met Guzman and why he decided to work for the organization. Jane listened quietly.
"This morning I wrote Guzman a long letter explaining that I was leaving and taking you with me. I had made the decision yesterday, but I had nothing firm in mind until after Guzman and Consuela left this morning."
Mark purposely avoided mentioning Dr. Gorman's horrible death because he was afraid it would make Jane lose what little balance she now had.
"Won't they try to catch us?" Jane asked.
"I suppose so," Mark replied, "but with any luck we'll be on a plane out of the country within an hour and a half."
"Where will we go?"
Mark caught the use of the pronoun and smiled. He hadn't realized until that moment how important it was to have Jane with him.
"We'll go where the first plane goes, providing it isn't headed for the States. I have enough money to see us through for a while. Are you sure you want to go with me?"
"If you'll have me," she answered. "I'm all mixed up, Mark, and I'll need some help to find myself. You have to start all over and so do I. Maybe we can help each other. You'll probably have to do all the helping, though."
They were driving down Insurgentes now. Mark turned off to cut across town to the airport and avoid the central section.
"Aren't we going to be in danger wherever we go?" Jane asked.
"I don't think so. Once they know we're out of the country they'll leave us alone. We can't cause them any trouble, and I told Guzman in my letter that we weren't even going to try to."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Mildred Thatcher had been anxious all day. The meeting was scheduled for seven-thirty and everybody was in town. By four there was still no word from Jane Horner, and Mildred wondered what she could do to satisfy everyone who had come to Omaha to hear Jane talk about the new discovery she had mentioned in her letter. And there had been calls from all the other cities. Their meetings were set for tonight and they'd had no word from Jane either.
The most disquieting thing was the report from Mexico City that Jane had not attended the conference there. It was all so unlike Jane!
Mildred rushed here and there, telling people she expected Jane any moment, calming those on the phone with assurances that Jane was certain to keep her word and searching desperately for something to use in Jane's place at the meeting.
The uniformed delivery man arrived at five with a can of film addressed to Mildred from Jane Horner in Mexico City. A note attached to the package told Mildred to show the film to the group that night. It was typed, but Mildred recognized Jane's signature. "Thank God," she muttered as she hastily signed the delivery receipt.
The lights dimmed and the large group saw A MESSAGE FROM JANE HORNER flash on the screen. The title faded and they saw Jane seated in what appeared to be a very elegant room.
"Look!" a woman shouted. "It's little Janie Horner!"
Jane's voice came into the room loud and clear.
"Helb, I'm Jane Horner and I'm so glad you could come this evening. I have something important to tell you and I'm using this means because I can't be there personally.
"As you know, in the past we have discussed how marjuana leads to immoral sexual behavior. Medical men tell us there's no relationship between marijuana and sexual conduct. They are wrong. Having smoked marijuana, I can tell you that you become very stimulated, sexually aroused, and you have to have sex. It intensifies the contact and makes the act more exiting. It prolongs the orgasm.
"I have just completed extensive personal research and I have come to the conclusion that we have misdirected our energies. You see, sex is great! We should encourage our youngsters to use their bodies the way nature intended for them to. Sex is not evil. It's only those of us who try to discourage it who are acting unnaturally."
There was a stirring in the room. People could hardly believe their eyes and ears. This wasn't the Jane Horner they had heard so often. It made them feel uncomfortable...."Marijuana has changed me entirely. I found that by denying myself sex I was becoming a dried up old bat like most of you. People are miserable because of what you and I have done to them. We should leave them alone, let them enjoy themselves.
"If we have to do something, let's have an orgy!"
The men and women in the audience were horrified as they watched Jane pull her dress over her head and reveal her lush nude body. They shuddered as they saw her throw it in the air and walk off the screen.
Then the scene changed. Jane was on her back on a large bed, one man kneeling above her head with his erect penis in her mouth and another man using his tongue between her legs. There were others on the bed, all engaged in a variety of depraved sex acts.
Silence hung heavy in the room. No one attempted to turn the projector off. Men shifted in their seats to try to hide the obvious bulge in their pants. Women rubbed their warm thighs together, hoping no one would notice what they were doing.
"Fuck me! Will somebody please fuck me?"
An audible gasp swept through the audience as Jane's words rang through the room. Hands crept into laps, hopeful that the darkness would conceal what they did. Breath came heavier and faster. There were even some low moans heard from various parts of the room.
"Disgusting!" a voice said when the film finished.
"Revolting! Positvely revolting!" a feminine voice agreed.
"Little Janie Horner should be punished! She's just like all the rest of the degenerates in this country!" said a man at the back of the room.
"It's a communist plot! You can bet on that!" said a woman in the front row.
The lights went on. People shuffled about trying to straighten their clothes. Some faces were red. Reverend James stood before the group and held up his hands for silence.
"I think this terrible thing we have seen tonight should serve as a warning to all of us. It could happen to any one of us at any time! It's our duty to double our efforts to rid our society of this horrible menace!"
