Archive Note: There were indeed two chapters in the original pocketbook labeled Chapter IV.
CHAPTER I
The victim, a female in her late twenties, was hanging upside down by a rope fastened about her ankles and attached to an overhead beam. She had been stripped nude and her arms dangled down so that her fingers almost touched the floor. She had been arrested that very afternoon by the dreaded State Police and charged with attempting to overthrow the popular regime. On such a charge twenty-five prisoners had suffered torture chambers deep in the cellars of the municipal police station on the Rio Del Toro in the very heart of the city. There was never any trial. The suspects were apprehended and whisked off the main complex, questioned, tortured and put to death within a period of two weeks. Very few ever walked out and those who were released bore the scars of official sadism for the rest of their lives.
For the past three months, official pressure had been intense. Ever since the attempted assassination of the President, there was hardly a day went by that somewhere someone was arrested, questioned and tortured.
The authorities were afraid of criticism. As in all dictatorships, dissent was not tolerated. The government was aware of the university's propensity for fermenting political unrest and students were watched and followed constantly by agents of the secret police, who were even smart enough to slip an agent into one of the student cells. He lasted three months before his identity was discovered. His body, with a bullet between the eyes, was dumped on the doorstep of the police station early one Sunday morning. A story of the murder was given wide coverage by the state-run newspapers and editorials advocated quick apprehension and death for the perpetrators as an example to the lawless elements in our society. The pressures exerted by the authorities only served to drive the student activists deeper underground and, as a result, there was a series of revenge killings on both sides. Bank robberies and arson became almost a daily reality and the tempo of fear rose to a frightening crescendo as government and underground clashed by day and by night.
A curfew was declared and every citizen had to be off the streets by nine o'clock each night. The general populace huddled in fear behind locked doors and business fell off for most, if not all. Tourists from neighboring countries no longer came to the city.
On almost any night, machine gun fire could be heard over the sound of sirens, screeching tires and running feet. It would turn silent for a while and then it would break out again in some other quarter. In the morning, those who happened to live closest to the fighting would emerge to find mute traces of what had taken place in the darkened hours: broken glass, pools of dried blood, an overturned, burned-out auto, cartridge shells. In many ways the city resembled Paris during the German occupation thirty years ago or Dublin and Belfast during the Irish Revolution. No one was safe, everyone was suspect. It was in this atmosphere that Felicia was apprehended and hustled to the Rio del Toro for interrogation.
She had been warned about Major Delgado. It was under his orders that prisoners were tortured. The few suspects who had lived through his interrogations had returned with frightening tales of his sadistic brutality. Under his personal direction, men and women had been forced to undergo electric shocks to their genitals, arms and legs were broken and vicious whippings were the normal routine. Those suspects who were deemed guiltless were usually sent to an infirmary so that their wounds would have a chance to heal before they were released. Those who were too badly scarred or crippled were eventually put to death.
Major Delgado was sensitive about bad publicity in the foreign press. Students had gotten word to the outside world and various articles had appeared in the major publications decrying the savagery employed by the government to put down the unrest.
Two uniformed guards hustled her down the three flights of stairs to a massive door made of oak and metal. One of them pressed a little button at the side and they waited till a small console light flashed on, the signal for them to enter. One of them pushed open the door and as it swung wide, she was shoved inside to find herself standing before a military man who wore the insignia of the secret police and the rank of major on each shoulder. He sat stiffly in a big, easy chair behind a massive wooden desk and peered at her.
Felicia watched his gaze as it drifted down to her legs, then slowly he raised his eyes, taking in the fullness of her lush breasts. His eyes were direct and she sensed he was looking right through her. She stood there silently and looked at the floor.
The major raised his hand and dismissed the two guards. They nodded and quickly left the room, the massive door clanging shut behind them. Again, his dark piercing eyes settled on her. She found his gaze slightly unnerving but she made an effort and returned his stare. She watched him light a cigarette. He inhaled deeply and blew a long plume of smoke in her direction as he spoke:
"Well, well, well, what have we here? Tell me, are you innocent or are you guilty?"
Felicia stared at him and decided her best bet was to brazen it out. She couldn't let her fear work against her. If he realized how frightened she was it would only serve to inflame his sadism. She answered simply and directly.
"Major? Major?"
"Delgado. Major Delgado, my dear. And your name?"
"I am Felicia Vasquez."
"Very well, Felicia Vasquez, are you guilty or innocent?"
"I have not yet been informed of the charges against me, therefore I cannot plead either way."
The major settled back in his chair and looked at her. "The charges placed against you are very serious. You are being charged with belonging to a political organization that has as its sole aim the overthrow of the government. The penalty for belonging to such an organization is, as you already know, death. Now, my dear, how do you plead?"
"I am completely innocent of such ridiculous charges. I never belonged to any such organization. I am not now a member, I never have been a member, and I don't intend to become a member, therefore I am innocent of such a charge and I would appreciate it if you would kindly allow me to leave at once."
It was a good delivery given with no trace of Tear and a slight undertone of genuine impatience. The major eyed her balefully as he lit another cigarette. "Ah ha. Felicia Vasquez, you have spirit and a silvery tongue! Such a delicious tongue might well tempt the devil himself." He sounded the words with sinister undertones and she felt uneasy, shifting from one foot to the other.
"Do you mind if I sit down?" she asked.
"Not at all. my dear, not at all. Please sit down in this chair." He motioned her to sit in the chair next to his desk. She went forward and sat down.
"Cigarette?"
"No thank you. I don't smoke."
"And I smoke too much. Now to get down to business." He reached across his desk and picked up her purse. He turned it upside down and dumped the contents out. "Let's see just who you are according to your papers."
She sat still and watched as he rifled through her papers. She had been prepared for just this eventuality and had done her homework well.
In reality, she was the daughter of Professor Miguel Armando de la Cordova, a noted teacher of political science at the University before the present regime. After the military coup he was found guilty of crimes against the state and sentenced to death, but through underground connections he made his escape from the maximum security prison at La Paz and gradually made his way to the United States. Reward circulars could still be found, tattered and weather beat en, flapping in the gentle breeze from trees along the roads leading from the hamlets into the big city.
She had led a very quiet, sedate life in her country before the military takeover and so was not very well known nor recognized. She fled into hiding upon hearing of her father's sentence and dedicated her life to overthrowing the regime. Her case was not very unusual. There were many like her, all vowing total destruction to the regime which had turned their homeland from a peaceful, moderately progressive society into a land of terror and oppression.
Once she had slipped into the underground, she was given a new identity and expertly forged papers. During the day she attended the University, picking up credits for her Doctorate, and in the evening she attended secret meetings with three other members of her small cell. All were University students and each performed a vital function for the parent cell, a much larger group whose job it was to filter all information from the individual cells and pass it on to the nucleus which coordinated the underground tactics against the state. The organization soon was dubbed "Los Hombres De Libertad" and it was on the Police most wanted list rating top priority.
"Felicia Vascjuez, twenty-six, live feet six inches tall, one hundred twenty seven pounds, black hair, blue eyes."
She watched him with steady eyes, trying not to display any emotion.
"And you are a student. I see."
"Yes, I attend the University here in the city."
"What are you majoring in. Miss Vasquez?"
She answered him calmly: "Philosophy."
"And what particular branch of Philosophy might you be studying?"
"I majored in Political Philosophy. My minor was Anthropology."
"Two very fascinating subjects, don't you think so? But of course, you have chosen it as your career."
He leaned back and lit a cigarette, watching her through the llanie.
"Tell me, Miss Vasquez, what have you learned about political philosophy?"
"I don't quite know what you mean." she replied, hedging.
The major suddenly Hushed purple with anger. "You know exactly what I mean!" he screamed at her. almost rising from his chair. "I asked you a simple question and you will answer me! Do you understand?"
She answered his outburst, keeping her voice smooth and modulated. "I learned. Major, that a political ideology has a greater chance of succeeding only if it serves most of the people most of the time."
"Oh. well, that is most interesting, and what, in'your opinion, are the chances of the present political set-up?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. Major."
"My guess may be entirely different than yours. Miss Vasquez. Answer my question."
"I'm afraid I cannot answer that question. I suggest the only fair way to arrive at an accurate answer would be to tender a national referendum and count the results for and opposing."
She looked at Delgado with steady eyes and waited for the next thrust.
"Being coy does not suit you. Miss Vasquez. You know that such a thing is totally out of the question. The people cannot yet be consulted about their future because we have not yet completed all the reforms we have set out to accomplish and until we do there will be no vote, no referendum!" He pulled his chair up against the edge of the desk, leaned on his elbows and rested his chin in his hands.
"Now, Miss Vasquez, perhaps you will explain how it happens that you were found in the house of a suspected terrorist this afternoon by agents under my command." She swallowed quickly, trying not to display her inner fear. "What were you doing in such a house?"
"I was in that house by mistake," she lied. "I had brought my thesis there to have it typed. There was a note tacked on the bulletin board which offered to type a person's papers for a nominal fee. My thesis runs two hundred pages and I saw an easy way out of the drudgery of typing so many pages. I was on my way out when your men arrested me."
"YOU ... ARE ... A ... LIAR!" he shouted at her, the blood vessels pounding in his head. "There was a printing press on the third floor of that house. It was being used to print inflammatory propaganda against your government. Do you expect me to believe your stupid story? DO YOU THINK I AM AN IDIOT?"
"I don't know what...."
He cut her off before she could finish. "I know what, Miss Vasquez. You went to that house to assist in the running of propaganda material and you are, in fact, a member of 'Los Hombres De Libertad'."
"No! No! That's not true! You have my thesis there. See for yourself."
"BAH! THESIS! ANYONE CAN CARRY A PILE OF PAPERS WITH THEM IF THEY PLAN TO USE YOUR STORY! WELL I, FOR ONE, DO NOT BELIEVE IT! NOT A WORD OF IT, DO YOU HEAR?"
In his anger he stood up and pounded on the desk. She sat perfectly still, hoping to keep down the waves of fear that threatened to give her away. She watched as he rose and came around behind her. He stood with his hands gripping the back of her chair. "If you wish to leave this place alive, Miss Vasquez, I suggest you tell me all that you know. NOW! What were you really doing in that house, quickly!"
Her heart began to pound in her chest. "I told you, Major, I was attempting to have my papers typed and went to the wrong address."
"LIAR! LIAR! LIAR!" he screamed at her. She kept silent and sat, stock still in the chair. There was a few moments of silence before he spoke. "Very well, you leave me no alternative." He moved back to his desk as he spoke and she saw him press a button. He turned to face her again, his voice malevolent. "We have many ways to extract the truth from unwilling guests, Miss Vasquez, as you will soon find out." She looked at him innocently.
"But you must believe me, Major...."
"BE SILENT!" he screamed.
The door buzzed and he pressed another button. The huge door swung open and two swarthy looking soldiers stepped through the door and clanged it shut behind them. The Major went back to his desk and motioned to them. "Strip her! I want her hung by her heels."
She gasped and pressed herself back into her chair. Her hand went to her mouth in disbelief as the two men advanced towards her and yanked her out of the chair. She was hauled to her feet and the two men stripped her clothes off in thirty seconds flat. She stood there, her bare feet on the cold floor, her clothes scattered about her on the floor. One of the soldiers picked up a coil of rope and heaved it over an overhead beam. As the rope snapped down to the floor, the other soldier quickly bound her ankles and, while one held her under the arms, the other hauled on the rope and she was pulled upside down till her arms barely touched the floor. She swung slightly to and fro, her back to the desk, her face to the door. The Major, whom she could no longer see, seated himself at his desk and lit another cigarette. "Now, Miss Vasquez, are you ready to confess your membership or do I have to give you a taste of the whip?"
"No. Please! You are mistaken, I am just a student. Please believe me!"
The Major did not reply but instead he gave a sign for the men to flog her. He opened his bottom drawer and produced two whips, each equipped with double strands of two-inch wide leather strips twenty-four inches in length and attached to broomstick-like handles a foot and a half in length. Each was given a whip and took up positions on either side of her suspended body. The Major nodded his head and the two men raised their whips and, moving as one, they brought them down with a loud crack against the tender buttocks. She screamed in pain and shock as yet another and another quickly raised purple welts on her perfectly round ass.
As the last strokes fell, he held his hand up and the torturers stood back, breathing heavily. The Major strode from around his desk and stood before her, a vicious smile playing about the corners of his mouth. He knew she was shamed and humiliated and the sight of the woman strung up, nude, before him sent arpeggios of sadistic pleasure rippling up and down his psyche. He felt near to some unholy orgasm as he gloried in the sight. He stood gazing down at her marks. Long purple stripes crisscrossed the lower half of her body and slight weals were beginning to show.
She gurgled and blubbered with the pain and a small pool of saliva had formed beneath her. She was becoming dizzy and the blood pouring to her brain sent dull aches of undiluted nausea against the walls of her stomach.
The Major was beside himself with pleasure and he couldn't help running his fingers gingerly across the weals, pushing and pressing them like a man buying melons at a curbside fruit stand.
"Well, Miss Vasquez," he began, letting his hands slide down the fullness of her ass. "What do you say now? Are you ready to tell me what you were really doing in that house today?"
He stood very close to her and looked down at her swatch of femininity, full tufted between her thighs, and waited for her to reply. The two soldiers lounged against the far wall, grinning. She twisted about and felt the ropes burning into her ankles. His knees were at eye level and she hung there looking at his boots.
"I went to the wrong address. I am not connected with anything in that house, I know nothing of the underground, please believe me."
He said nothing and stepped back, motioning the two soldiers to continue the Hogging. Each took his place beside her and the whips fell again and again, the sounds of her pain echoed throughout the chamber. "You are very stubborn. Miss Vasquez, a dangerous flaw in your make-up."
She barely heard him as she groaned and wept in pain. They had given her close to sixty lashes and still she hadn't talked. The Major was beginning to think that perhaps she had made a mistake.
"I know nothing of the underground, please believe me!" she cried, but the Major was adamant as he stepped back, motioning the two soldiers to continue the flogging. Each man took his place beside her and the whips began to fall again and again.
It went on for what seemed like hours before they were stopped by the Major. His face came to within an inch of hers and he spoke mournfully, his voice carrying all the melancholy tones of a funeral bell.
"You are very stubborn. Miss Vasquez, a dangerous flaw in your make-up."
Felicia barely heard him as she groaned and wept in pain. They had given her close on to fifty lashes and still she had held on. She hadn't talked.
The Major was sure now that perhaps he had made a mistake. She certainly sounded genuine and he had to admit privately that, after another fifty lashes, well laid on, she still hadn't told him a thing. He made up his mind. finally.
"Release her!" he barked. The two men dropped their whips and began to untie her. When she was unbound, they laid her gently on the cold flagstone floor. She was aware of its coolness against her hot skin as she lay, face down, gathering her strength. As she lay there, the Major opened the bottom drawer of his desk. The two guards handed him their whips and he stuffed the instruments into the drawer. He then dismissed them. The door opened and they trooped out.
"Get up!" he ordered her. She moaned and slowly, painfully, she dragged herself up and rested on her elbows, pausing to catch her breath before attempting to stand. The Major sat behind his massive desk and watched impassively as she rested.
"GET UP, I SAID!" he shouted, his voice clearly betraying his annoyance with the slowness of her movements. She heaved her body upward, groaning with the effort, and finally, she was able to stand somewhat shakily on her feet. She leaned over and hung onto the chair back for support. The Major sat behind his desk, his booted foot resting across one corner and he tapped his leg with his riding crop.
"Sit down, Miss Vasquez," he said, sliding his foot off the desk and leaning forward on his elbows to stare at her, a sick smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
"Please! I can't," she replied, still leaning on the back of the chair, her hair wet and disheveled from perspiration.
"Very well then, stand," he replied as he slowly lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke in a long thin plume into her face. At that moment there was a knock on the door. Delgado reached down and pressed a button, the door opened and a corporal marched into the room, halted three paces in front of the desk, saluted and handed a manila envelope to the Major.
"These were found in the prisoner's locker at the University, sir."
The Major opened the envelope and peered inside before withdrawing a handful of typewritten papers and laying them on his desk. He looked up at the soldier.
"Anything else? he asked, hopefully.
"No sir, nothing. That is all we found."
"Very good, you may go now," he said. The soldier came to attention, saluted and left the room. He never looked at Felicia. It was as though she was invisible. The Major looked up. He had placed the palms of his two hands flat down on the pile of papers and he looked at Felicia long and hard, his eyes seeming to bore through her very soul. She knew the gig was up now that the papers had been discovered but she decided to bluff her way through. There was nothing else for her to do and besides, it would give the others more time to make good their escape into the mountains.
"I have here some very interesting papers. As was already stated, they were found in your locker at the University. What, if anything, do you have to say for yourself now, Miss Vasquez," he asked, a smile twisting his thin lips.
Felicia braced herself and replied, "I know nothing of any papers in my locker!" But it was no use. The bluff wasn't working. Delgado realized she was lying and she knew he knew. The door opened and two soldiers marched in and saluted.
"Take this woman to the 'Music Room,' " he barked. The soldiers turned to her, grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and dragged her by the hair out the door as Delgado stood behind his desk.
"Your time has come, Miss Vasquez. Soon we will know everything that you have been hiding from us," she heard him call as the two soldiers hustled her down the hallway.
They stopped before a side elevator and pressed the button. A few moments later the doors parted and she was shoved into the elevator, the soldiers stepping in behind her. The doors closed again and they descended to the basement. It halted with a jolt at the bottom of the shaft, the doors opened and she was dragged by the hair down a long corridor while the other soldier went ahead and stopped at a big iron door. He took out a big key ring and searched for the proper key. He fitted it into the keyhole and threw open the door.
"INSIDE, PIG!" they yelled as they tossed her into the darkness. She fell on her knees and the door was slammed shut again, leaving her in pitch darkness. She heard the key turn in the lock and then the sound of the soldiers' boots as they faded down the corridor. She strained her ear and barely heard the elevator doors opening and closing, then there was absolute silence.
Felicia lay on the cool floor, the soreness in her bruised buttocks sending hot stabs of pain up and down her spine. She tried to penetrate the darkness but the room was as black as night and instead, she decided to investigate the chamber. She crawled slowly across the floor, her hands sliding across the stone floor in front of her. Suddenly, her fingers came into contact with what seemed like one of the walls. Running her hands along it, she slowly got to her knees and pushed herself up. With her two arms flat against the side of the wall, she began to move towards the right, feeling her way along the wall while her eyes tried desperately to penetrate the blackness without success. The place was as devoid of light as an underground tomb.
She pushed on till she came to a corner where the two walls intersected. She reckoned the room was at least fifteen feet along one wall and she prepared to mark off the second wall when she froze as the sound of a bolt on the door clanged in the darkness. She kept her back to the wall while her eyes sought the door. There was the jangling of keys as the lock was turned and then the door was flung open and an overhead light was snapped on, momentarily blinding her.
She put her palm across her eyes as Delgado, in a freshly-starched uniform, strode into the chamber followed by a new set of guards, two she had never seen before. One of them closed the thick iron door and slid the bolt, locking it. Felicia, squinting her eyes against the glare, watched as they approached. Delgado followed by the guard, his riding crop under his arm. He stopped a few paces in front of her with contempt in his eyes. Taking his riding crop from under his arm, he pointed it at the table, stepped back and barked to the guard.
"Secure the prisoner to the table!" Felicia pressed herself against the wall as the two men reached for her. They each grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards the table in the center of the room. It was made of wood and steel and the top surface was worn smooth. Its legs were of steel and they were bolted to the floor.
The guards hustled her past Delgado, who looked on, seemingly bored by the whole business. He watched as Felicia was forced up on the table. The guards pushed her down on her back and set about binding her to the table. First her ankles and then her wrists were secured with leather straps. When they stepped back, she lay there, her arms securely fastened to the sides of the table, her ankles bound together and held fast to the end of the table.
Felicia heard the rustle of clothing. She couldn't see as they were standing slightly behind her. Major Delgado had handed one of the guards his swizzle stick and then had commenced to remove his shirt, he handed the garment to one of the guards and retrieved his riding crop. He swung it through the air a few times and approached the table.
"As you can see. Miss Vasquez. I am stripped for action," he said as he stepped in front of her. She looked at him and then averted her eyes. She tried to keep from panicing but it was rough going. The Major leaned down and took her by the hair. He twisted her head from side to side with such force, it seemed as though he would pull her hair out by the roots. She gritted her teeth and bore the pain in silence. Delgado released her and started the questioning.
"Are you a member of the underground? It was a simple question. Once it was answered truthfully, they would proceed to the next question. Inevitably, they would ultimately reach the end of the line where there would be no more questions to be asked. Felicia knew it would pay dividends to stall as long as she was able. She winced as Delgado lifted his arm and brought the riding crop down across her breasts.
Felicia screamed as the leather tip of the crop laced her tender flesh. An ugly bruise line began to form as he lifted it and brought it down again, this time across her belly. She screamed and heaved against the bonds as the pain coursed through her body. Seeing her react seemed to inflame the Major for he lifted his arm and delivered a series of blows to every part of her body. Felicia twisted and screamed as the blows, perhaps a dozen in all. landed with stinging thwacks as the hard leather crop bit into her flesh.
"Yes! Yes! I am a member!" she screamed at the top of her voice. Delgado smiled and lowered the crop to his side.
"Very good. That is very good. Now I want to know what your own function was in the movement, you will tell me now." He was apparently in no hurry as he rocked back and forth on his heels and waited for her reply. From out of the corner of her eyes, Felicia could sense the two guards standing by, ready to take over, should the Major desire to rest. Using up as much time as she dared, Felicia made her reply.
"I, I did typing." she said, drawing out the procedure.
"Explain your answer! I want to know what you typed, where you did such typing, who received the finished papers and who gave you the orders. Also. I want to know the names of each of the members in your particular cell."
"My only duties were the typing of each bombing incident, when and where it happened and the results of the bombing. This information was put into a sealed envelope. It was then dropped into a wastepaper basket on the grounds of the campus. I never saw the person who picked up the reports."
"How long have you been performing this function for the underground'I"
"For about six months."
"Be specific, when did you first get involved?"
"It was in February."
"Go on."
"I found a note under my door one night. On it was written the time and place where a meeting was being held. I went and from that time on I was given the job of typing reports."
"Who were the other members of your cell? Delgado pressed. This was the question lie really wanted answered and to further intimidate his victim, he flexed the crop in both hands as he raised it and slapped the end of it into the open palm of his left hand.
"I never belonged to a cell. I worked alone." She gave the name of a student who she knew was dead, killed in a police ambush several months back.
Delgado didn't believe her. "You are a liar!" he hissed.
Felicia shook her head from side to side and screamed. "NO! I SPEAK THE TRUTH! YOU MUST BELIEVE ME!"
"LIAR! LIAR! YOU ARE A LIAR! TAKE THAT AND THAT!" he yelled as he brought the riding crop down across her thighs. Each time it landed on her flesh, it left a thin welt which began to swell. Felicia twisted to and fro but the crop landed with a resounding whack every time. He began to curse her as he brought the crop down again and again. Finally, amid her screams, he lowered the weapon, jamming the end of it between Felicia's thighs. He worked frantically and soon had the tip of it sliding into her cunt. It hurt something awful as she tried to close her body against this new tactic.
'I'll tell! I'll tell!" she screamed as the riding crop was forced deep into her pussy.
"TALK. YOU BITCH! SPEAK UP! HURRY!" Delgado roared as he worked the crop roughly between her thighs. The end of it was beginning to nudge her womb and the pain was agonizing.
Just then, there was a knock on the iron door. Delgado motioned one of the guards to open it. The door opened and an officer entered the room. He must have been new for he saluted Delgado and whispered something into his ear. Delgado spit on the floor.
"Son-of-a-Bitch!" he swore. "If it wasn't for that damned General, I could spend more time fighting these bastard revolutionaries. You two stay here. I shall be back soon, I hope," he swore and began putting on his shirt. The officer waited silently as Delgado got into proper uniform again.
Felicia feared the major's leaving. True, he was a sadist but he was also after information and as an officer, he was interested in other things besides sadism. The two thugs who were masquerading as soldiers were a different story. Poorly paid, improperly fed, forced to do all kinds of menial duties, theirs was a hard life. Now, faced with the prospect of being left alone with them. Felicia began to sweat.
She swivelled her head to the side and looked at the far wall. No mistaking the tact that she was in a torture chamber. At least a dozen whips hung from the wall. To keep her mind from entertaining dark thoughts, she counted them. There were fifteen whips of varying size and each hung by a loop at the handle. On the opposite wall were hanging an odd assortment of bondage devices. Handcuffs, leather helmets, a few large, evil-looking clubs and an assortment of straps, some with metal studs attached to their ends. On a little bench at the corner of the chamber, Felicia spied a long black leather cat-o'-nine tails. Suddenly Delgado was standing before her.
"I leave you for the time being, in the company of two of my best men. Perhaps you will provide some amusement for them. In any case, you will be under their care until I return. Adios!" he called as he turned on his heel and left. The door closed with an ominous clanking. The bolt slid across its width and then there was silence.
Felicia lay there hoping for little better than the worst. She opened her eyes to find one of the guards leaning over her, grinning like an idiot. One gold tooth glistened in the light. He ran his thick tongue over his lips several times as he leered at his victim, so recently consigned to his care. Felicia gritted her teeth and braced herself.
"Do not be afraid, senorita. I will not hurt you," he said as he stepped around to the side of the table. He leaned on it and peered at her nude body. Again he licked his lips as though savoring the feast that lay before him. Very gently he put his hand down and touched her bush. He ran his fingers into the thick growth.
Felicia winced and tried to close her legs together. It did nothing to stop his probing finger. The other guard came over on the other side of her and grabbed her nipples between his fingers. He squeezed them hard and Felicia cried out as the pain tore across her breasts.
The other guard, clearly the stronger of the two, pushed him away, cursing wildly. He meant to have her all for himself. He shoved his finger deep into her pussy while his other hand played with her nipples. He began to breathe faster as his hands roamed over her lush body. He began kissing her nipples, making loud sucking noises as he took her nipples between his lips and sucked on them, one after the other. He ran his tongue along her neck, slurping madly. As his ear came close to Felicia's mouth, she lunged with all her might and caught him by the ear. She bit the end of it off and spit it out onto the floor.
The guard screamed at the top of his lungs. His howls filled the chamber and reverberated around the room as he fell to his knees. Blood streamed from his ear and formed in a rapidly widening pool between his knees. His head bobbed up and down as he screamed into his clenched fist.
"AIIIEE!" he screamed as he suddenly got to his feet. Felicia watched him approach the table, one hand held tightly over his wounded ear.
"YOU FUCKING DAUGHTER OF A WHORE! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" he screamed as he reached out and grasped her by the neck. His powerful hand squeezed her throat and she struggled to twist out of his grasp. He was too strong however and soon she felt herself entering a black whirlpool of unconsciousness. When she had opened her eyes, she became aware of a terrific pain in her throat. She glanced down and saw the legs of the guard protruding from under the table. She looked up to see the second guard smiling at her as he unzipped his pants.
Apparently, he had knocked the other one out before he had a chance to strangle her and now he was going to claim his prize. Felicia gasped as she saw the size of his prick. It was fully ten inches long with a big head on it. She saw him lift the heavy weapon and begin to massage it back and forth, never taking his eyes from hers. A stupid smile was on his lips and he started forward, pumping his prick as he neared the table. He stopped as his hips pressed against the side of the table.
She watched as he raised his throbbing prick over the edge of the table as though he wanted her to inspect it for size. He would have liked to have shoved it into her mouth for a blow-job but, after what she had done to his partner, he wasn't taking any chances. Instead, he beat his meat for a while, standing close up to her, his breath rapidly beginning to sound like it was being thrust from his lungs with the aid of a tire pump.
"You like, UH! You like!" he wheezed as he beat his cock with his left hand, the head of it disappearing in and out of his closed fist.
Felicia twisted her head to the other side. She wouldn't look at him and this annoyed him. He dropped his pants down around his ankles and mounted the table, one knee on either side of her. Kneeling over her, he began to jerk off with rapid strokes. He leered at her as he felt his orgasm rising in his balls.
He grunted as his come spurted from the head of his throbbing staff, spraying hundreds of drops of white creamy stuff all over her face and breasts. Felicia tossed her head wildly but was unable to avoid the stuff because there was so much of it. When he stopped coming, he smiled sheepishly and dropped to the floor.
She saw him pull up his pants. He buckled the belt and stepped behind her at the head of the table. She could hear his breathing and wondered what he was up to. Suddenly his hand reached down and he smeared his come all over her face and mouth. He worked the stuff so rapidly that it soon became dry and sticky. When he had rubbed the whole of it into her skin, he withdrew his hand, letting it slide along her side till he felt her bush. He dug his fingers into her glue pot and worked them rapidly in and out as he strove to make her come.
"COME OR I KILL YOU!" he threatened, his fingers slipping deep into her cunt as he sought to bring her off. Felicia decided to fake it and began to moan as though she were enjoying it. She kept moaning and after a considerable time, she feigned orgasm.
"You better come, you liar!" he yelled as he withdrew his finger and pinched her labia. He squeezed her lips hard between his fingers as she screamed out in pain.
"COME! COMB! COME!" he screamed in a rage as he shoved his finger back into her cunt. At that moment, his partner on the floor staggered to Ids feet and lurched against the far wall where he stood as in a daze. He had been hit on the head with a black jack and it was just beginning to dawn on his senses who it was who had dealt him the cowardly blow.
With a stupid look on his face, he rubbed the back of his skull and looked around for an instrument of revenge. His fist closed around a length of pipe. He whipped it off the bench behind him and lunged towards the middle of the room. The pipe came down with a sickening crunch on top of the other's head. His finger slid out of Felicia's hole and he crumpled to the floor without making a sound. The other guard picked him up by the ankles and hauled him across the room.
She craned her head and watched as he trussed the other one with a length of rope. He bound wrists and ankles together tightly and, satisfied that the man would stay put, he stood up and turned his attention towards Felicia. She watched as he lurched across the room. He stopped in front of her and she couldn't help but notice his left ear or. rather, what was left of it. She had bitten off perhaps a full inch which included all of the lobe and now the blood had congealed. All in all, a man with only half an ear is a very silly-looking sight to behold, she thought as he stood leering down at her.
This time, she thought, he's going to be more careful. And he was, for he slipped down to the opposite end of the table and untied her ankles. He jerked her legs apart and stared at her gaping treasures. Releasing her momentarily, he shook his pants down, whipped off his shorts and displayed the biggest cock in the world. It was fully twice the size of his comrade's, and at least three inches thick. Felicia braced herself for a very rough time.
CHAPTER II
This time, he was not to be denied. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her legs as far apart as he could before lowering his face between her thighs. His lips found her cunt. He used his tongue to separate her labia and with the lips separated, he ran his tongue around her clitoris. He sucked on it for a long time and Felicia couldn't help but give in to his expert ministrations. Her clitoris grew very hard and it grew a full centimeter as her excitement built up. Just as she was about to come, he took her clitoris between his teeth and bit down on it, biting it in half. But instead of spitting it out. the animal ate it. chewing it for a long time before swallowing it. while Felicia screamed herself hoarse. Blood was flowing from her cunt like a small river as the guard grinned at her. He had his revenge and he watched her suffer. Her screams seemed to afford him pleasure for his face was lit up with a big smile. He began to laugh insanely. The entire episode was a wild scene straight out of a nightmare. Felicia screamed at the top of her lungs while her body twisted frantically on the table. Blood still poured from between her legs and the guard was laughing uncontrollably. Felicia never knew such a pain. Her body was on fire and her thighs quivered as she sought to alleviate the fire which was burning into her guts.
"What are you good for now. eh?" he screamed as he laughed maniacally. Felicia fainted from the pain and knew nothing until her eyes flickered open again. When she had her senses, she felt the pain again. She looked up and saw Delgado standing over the bound guard. He motioned to two new guards.
"Untie him and get him out of here. Take him to the dispensary. If he dies, toss him in the river. He was no good anyway." he yelled.
He turned around and faced the guard who had bitten Felicia.
"So. you pig!" he screamed. "I did not give you permission to injure this prisoner and yet you took it upon yourself to do so, for that you will die!" The guard began to plead for his life as Delgado unholstered his pistol. He cocked it. pointed the muzzle at the man's head and pulled the trigger. In the explosion that followed, the guard was knocked off his feet. He fell flat on his back and never even quivered as a pool of blood quickly formed around his bloody head. The Major's bullet had gone through his skull, just over the right eye and had exited at the base of his neck, killing him instantly. He bolstered his pistol and turned to the two guards who had accompanied him.
"Drag the filthy cur out of here. Toss them both in the river. It'll be good riddance to both of them." As an afterthought, he stepped out into the hall where the guards had pulled the dead man's companion. There was another gunshot and then silence as the Major stomped back into the room.
"Quickly, get them out of here and then come back as fast as you can. I am going to need you." The two guards picked up the corpse and hauled it out of the room. They carried the two bodies down the corridor one at a time and deposited them in the elevator. The doors closed and it rose slowly to the upper floors.
"So, he bit you, did he? Perhaps if you hadn't been so slow, this would not have happened. Miss Vasquez." He looked at her and shrugged his shoulders.
"Let me see what damage he has done," he said as he reached between her thighs.
"Ah ha ... It seems you have lost a very important part of your anatomy. I don't blame you for biting off his ear. Why didn't you bite his prick off, eh?" He laughed as the words echoed around the chamber. Felicia moaned. She had stopped bleeding. The Major had placed an undershirt between her legs and the blood began to congeal but the pain was still there. There was no getting away from it, no matter how she tried.
"Well, are you ready to tell me the names of the members of your cell. Miss Vasquez?" he asked, turning his mind again to the business at hand. Felicia, striving her very best for credibility, looked at him and replied.
"I swear I don't know of anyone. I merely typed papers which were slipped under my door. When they had been typed. I dropped them into a waste receptacle on the campus grounds. I told you this before, you must believe me. Major.'I
"No. Miss Vasquez, I must do nothing of the sort. You have lied once, in the beginning, and you will lie again, indeed you are lying now. It is not I who must do something, it is you who must face up to reality. You are my prisoner and you have lied to me about your membership in the underground. It is my duty to get all the information out of you before ... before...." He stopped, his words falling off in mid-sentence. He was about to say, "before you are turned over to a firing squad" but he caught himself in time.
"Before you are hurt too badly in this room. You see, I do not really like to torture people, but there is no other way, I'm sure you understand and now. let us get back to the question. I want the answer, quickly."
"I must repeat myself. Major, I do not know of anyone else. You are wasting your time."
"Very well. Miss Vasquez, very well," he hissed, his lips drawn in a thin hard line. She watched him cross to the far wall. He reached up and took down a strap of medium length.
He swung it through the air as though to test it for balance and. satisfied that it would suit his purpose, he walked up to the table and looked down at his victim, his eyes showing traces of the sadism which resided in his soul. He stepped back, lifted the instrument high over his shoulder and brought it down across her breasts. It made a loud, 'whacking' sound as it belabored her skin and she cried out. screaming her innocence. He raised it again.
"WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!" The strap landed three times across her belly. The pain was so severe she was no longer aware of the cruel pain in her vagina. As his sadism mounted, the Major began to grunt as he worked over his victim. Each time the strap fell on her tender flesh, he would grunt with the effort it took to swing the strap. It rose and fell without missing a beat. Again and again he whacked it down against her quivering flesh while she screamed at the top of her lungs.
"NO! NO! ... HELP! ... HELP!!!" she screamed as the strap laced her skin.
"TALK, YOU BITCH! YOU WILL TELL ME EVERYTHING!" he yelled back at her. his arm rising and falling with the sureness of a precision watch.
Building himself up to a frenzy, Delgado flung the strap down and lunged for her throat. He wrapped two hands around it and squeezed her wind-pipe, cutting off her air. She began to choke. The veins in her neck began to bulge. The more he squeezed, the nearer to death she came. Her eyes began to pop in her head, her tongue shot out of her mouth and then the darkness.
When he saw that she was almost dead, he released her neck. He was breathing hard, his chest heaving under his shirt. Little streaks of sweat showed through his shirt front. While he waited for his victim to awaken, he unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up over his elbows. He loosened his tie and looked down at her. She was still out.
"BAH! STUPID BITCH, I HAVEN'T ALL DAY!" he yelled with rage as he filled a bucket of water. He dumped the contents over Felicia's head, dropping the empty bucket to the floor. Slowly, the cold water brought her around but it wasn't fast enough to suit the Major. He reached over and slapped her full on the mouth. It was a hard slap and it had the desired effects. Felicia opened her eyes wide and saw him staring at her. She immediately became aware of the burning sensation in her throat as anyone who has been half-strangled can attest to. She moaned as he slapped her again.
"Who are the others working for the underground! SPEAK!" he roared in her ear. She rolled her head to one side as a thin line of blood streamed down from the corner of her mouth.
"No ... nobody ... nobody ... else. I swear ... nobody."
"YOU FUCKING LIAR, YOU WILL TELL ME OR I WILL KILL YOU!" he screamed as he reached into his back pocket and fetched out a black jack. He raised his arm and brought it down on her head, once, twice, three times. Felicia screamed and her senses began to reel. The light in her brain began to flicker like a candle in a draught as he beat her over the head. She was dimly aware of her legs as they stiffened against her bonds, then blackness closed in around her and the candle flickered out. She opened her eyes. Her brain was still not functioning but her eyes slowly opened and she looked up into a light brighter than the sun. She closed her eyes, shutting out the glare and the horror of what had happened to her slowly crept back into her consciousness as she saw Delgado peering down at her.
"You will tell me the name of your cohorts. Miss Vasquez. or I shall have to continue our little game." He waited for her to reply. Instead, she stared dully at her tormentor. Finally, she found her voice and spoke, very softly.
"Please, don't you know when I am telling the truth. I know of no one else. Please ... All I want ... to do is ... go home, I have nothing more to tell you."
"Ah. but you do have more to tell me. Miss Vasquez, you have plenty more to tell me and I am going to beat the shit out of you and make you eat it before I believe such a cock and bull story ... You are a member of the underground. You. of necessity, have to rely on others. You know the names of these people and I want them. Believe me. Miss Vasquez, in the end, you will tell me exactly what I want to know. Why not make things much easier on yourself by telling me now. It would save both of us a lot of unpleasantness and you, a lot of pain." As he spoke the words. Felicia was momentarily tempted to believe him. Anything to end the torture. But. as she thought about it, she knew that as soon as he had all his information, she would either be killed right there in the torture chamber or else taken out and shot before a midnight firing squad. Either way, she lost, and then she thought of a plan. It wasn't much as plans go but it was better than nothing for it gave her a glimmer of hope and with hope, anything was possible.
Her plan consisted in releasing names of students who had, for one reason or another, been forced to flee to the mountains. Once in the mountains, they would be safe. If she could give him a few names, it might mean a brief respite for her, time to ponder the question of how to stay alive.
"You win. Major. If you promise to get a doctor to look after me, I will give you the names of my fellow conspirators. Please hurry. The pain is more than I can bear."
"Ahhh, now you are talking, Miss Vasquez. I knew you would come to your senses sooner or later. And now who are these people, quickly," he urged, bending over her breasts, waiting for the names.
"First, a doctor, Major, I am seriously wounded ... I need some medical comfort, you surely can understand that, you are not a stupid peasant," she said, appealing to his vanity. The Major hated peasants. They were indolent and stupid and made lousy soldiers. He was happy that this, obviously high born, intelligent woman could see that his origins were high above those who surrounded him in his everyday duties as Commandant. He reacted very cordially.
"But, of course. I will have a physician here at once. Excuse me, I will be back shortly," he said as he half bowed and turned on his heel. He almost scurried out of the room. Felicia heard his footsteps down the long hallway. The sound of the elevator doors opening and closing sounded his departure and she lay there on the table, her head ringing and a deep pain in her vagina.
In the tomb-like silence of the chamber, she lay like a rag-doll. The pain in her head subsided somewhat to her surprise, considering the beating she had taken, but her vagina was a storehouse of unmitigated pain. She lay very still and tried to think other thoughts but the pain was relentless. She began to moan. Despair suddenly crowded all thoughts of deliverance from her mind as the sounds of her sobs rent the quiet of the room. She stiffened as the elevator doors slid open. The sound of boots sounded on the floor of the hallway and Delgado stepped into the room with another man. The man came over to her. He put his bag down, opened it and placed a stethescope to her chest. He held it for a few moments before taking her wrist in his hand. He looked at his watch as he recorded her pulse. Placing her hand tenderly at her side, he proceeded to examine her head.
"Please, it's not my head," she cried. He removed the shirt from between her legs.
"Would you be kind enough. Major, to untie this woman's ankles. I must examine her." The Major bent over the end of the table and undid the rope around her ankles. As soon as he slid the rope away, the doctor gently spread her thighs and peered at her vagina. He straightened up and turned to the Major.
"How did this happen?" he asked. The Major nodded at Felicia.
"She can tell you better than I can. Ask her!" The man turned to Felicia. She looked at him and spoke.
"One of the guards bit me," she said simply. The man turned to Delgado. His voice was firm though gentle.
"This woman must be moved to the dispensary right away if I am to do anything for her."
"Very well. Doctor, I shall have her brought to you as soon as she answers some questions. You may go now. She will follow shortly." The doctor nodded silently, picked up his bag and departed without another word. The Major turned to Felicia.
"See? I am a man of my word. Tell me now. who are the others?" Felicia's voice was dull and flat as she replied.
"Nini Guterra," she said, wincing as another wave of pain engulfed her.
"Nini Guterra and who else?" he asked impatiently.
"Jose Quinon."
"Jose Quinon" he repeated after her, writing the names on a little pad in his right hand. "All right, who else?"
"Please. I can't think of any more at the moment. The pain is so great, I must get some medical attention." He shrugged his shoulders, putting the pad back into his shirt pocket. He turned to her and pointed his finger accusingly.
"I expect a lot more names from you, woman, be certain you come up with them the next time I question you. You start playing your games again and I can guarantee you the next time there will be no doctor." Felicia closed her eyes. She had done it! She had stopped the brutal interrogation! Heaving a sigh from the very depths of her being, she turned her head as two guards came in bearing a stretcher. They put it down and untied her wrists. Each took hold of her and lifted her off the table. She moaned in pain as she was laid on the stretcher.
"Here, throw this over her. You can't take her to the hospital lying nude on a stretcher, stupids!" he yelled. They put her down again and covered her with a sheet the Major threw at them. Once again, she was lifted up and they tropped out, Delgado bringing up the rear. The elevator doors opened and she was placed on the floor. As soon as they got to the top, Delgado stepped off but not before warning her that the two of them had still some unfinished business to attend to. She nodded her head as he turned on his heel and strode down the hall out of her sight. Once again, she breathed a sigh of relief. The guards picked up her stretcher and started off in the opposite direction. At the intersection of two hallways, she was placed on a platform with wheels and pushed off down another corridor out through swinging doors across a small open place outside and then into another building. They wheeled her into a room at the end of the hall and placed her on a clean bed. She sank into the soft mattress and thanked God that she was still alive. Already, she was thinking of escape. She knew she would not survive another session with Delgado. The last thing she remembered was the medic placing a needle in her arm ... and then nothing.
Delgado, armed with two names, at last had something tangible to go on. As soon as he left the elevator he went straight to Bureau Identification. The next two hours were spent searching the hundreds of names on file. When his search proved fruitless, he sent a squad of men from his plain-clothes detail to scour the city in hopes of turning up some trace of the two men. After that, there was nothing for him to do but wait for developments ... and that was the one thing that got under his skin, every time ... the waiting. He was, by nature, an impatient man. As long as he was functioning at his job, he was at one with himself but now, there simply was nothing for him to do.
"Son of a bitch!" he yelled and he brought his fist down on the top of his desk. He jumped up and strode around the room. He stomped back and forth across the room several times and then went for the phone.
"Put me through to the Penitentiary at once!" he growled at the operator. His voice sounded high and nervous. The line clicked and he was put through.
"Captain Molan? ... This is Delgado ... As well as can be expected ... Listen, I would like to come out there this evening ... No, nothing official, but I feel sure some of the ... ah ... female prisoners are due for a little exercise....Ha ha ha ... like the last time, yes. I'll be there at around eleven o'clock ... very good, adios."
The big, black buick tore along the roads at a fast clip. Delgado liked high speed driving and his driver was specially selected for his skill in getting him to his destination in the fastest time possible. As they Hew over the highway, he settled back in the rear and thought about the female prisoners. They were mostly politicals who had been caught and convicted of revolutionary activities. Those who hadn't been executed for their crimes were handed stiff prison sentences, never less than fifteen years and Delgado liked nothing more than to visit them late at night indulging in blood-thirsty orgies till the wee hours. When things were really quiet, he had spent more than one entire week-end in these activities. After a half hour's driving, they pulled up to the main gate. The guard left his booth, stuck his head inside the rear window briefly and then waved them on. As they stopped before the Administration building. Delgado hopped out and turned to his driver.
"I may be detained for several hours ... possibly longer, I'll call you when I'm ready to leave." The driver nodded, the gears changed and the buick slipped around the side of the building as he mounted the steps and strode into Molan's office. The captain rose, smiled and held out his hand. The two shook hands warmly.
"Sit down, I will have a bottle of wine brought in and we'll have a drink first." Delgado nodded and took off his jacket. The Captain pressed a button on the edge of his desk and two minutes later a prison guard entered with a bottle of wine on a tray. The man left as silently as he came, closing the door after him.
"To your health, Major."
"And to yours and we mustn't forget our delicate little charges." They both' laughed. Delgado reached into his shirt pocket and handed the Captain a piece of paper. On it were the names of the women he had taken from his own files back at headquarters. There were four names on the list. Molan looked at the names and smiled.
"Well, I'm afraid you are out of luck with the Ruiz prisoner."
"Oh, what happened?"
"Well, the sad fact of the matter is ... she ... ah caught a bad case of pneumonia three weeks ago."
"I see ... hmmmnnn. That's too bad ... too bad. I rather looked forward to another session with that little bitch. What did you do with the body?"
"The usual, I had it burned." The Captain looked at Delgado and raised his eyes.
"You know how it is when you get carried away."
"Yes, well, no matter. There are plenty left." He replied philosophically, draining the last of his drink. He stood up and yawned.
Delgado knew the story. The woman had been tortured to death at one of the regular orgies and she had been disposed of. It was as simple as that. There were no official inquiries. The administration left the running of the prison to its administrators with no questions asked. It' a prisoner died by whatever means, usually torture, the notation on the prisoner's file was usually marked, "Died of natural causes" or. "Killed while attempting to escape." There were forty-nine female prisoners on file at last count so there was no shortage of victims for their perverted tastes.
"Let's get started," Delgado said, filling his glass to the brim. "I want those three and you can select the fourth. Do you have any young chickens?"
"Well, let's see ... I think the youngest we have is ... yes ... eighteen."
"Good body?" Delgado asked, glass held at his lips.
"Not bad ... not bad, I'll have her in the group. Would you like me to join you?"
"I want to be alone with them for a while. I may call you down later. I'll go down now. Send them to me as soon as you collect them."
"Right you are. Major." Molan answered. He rose, opened his door for Delgado to pass through and followed up behind him. They separated at the end of the hall, Delgado going right, the Captain taking the left down a long corridor which would bring him to the females section.
Delgado descended three flights of metal stairs to the very bowels of the prison where the tortures took place. He had his own key and he let himself in through the first door, locked it behind him and stood before a massive steel door with bands of heavy metal running in strips from top to bottom. He fished out another key, opened the door and disappeared inside.
The chamber was a large one, measuring perhaps, twenty by twenty five. There were no windows in the room. The four walls were made of stone two feet thick and the floor was a solid sheet of smooth cement, covered over in places by heavy rugs.
From the walls there hung, by pegs and hooks, the usual implements of torture. Everything from cat-o'-nine-tails to bull whips. They were all dark and greasy-looking. In the center of the room there was a platform, perhaps eight feet square and about fifteen inches high. It was constructed of heavy wood. On the platform was a felt-covered drum where victims were forced to bend over its girth to receive their whippings. It was eight feet in length, long enough for six culprits to bend over it side by side. Scattered about the room were a collection of wooden chairs and even a gallery section consisting of four rows of benches, one behind the other where specially invited officials would sit and watch the tortures. Delgado, however, preferred to be alone with his victims. On occasion, he would invite the Captain to assist him and, together, they would endeavor to outdo one another's brutality.
Delgado had no sooner removed his shirt when the huge door creaked open. "INSIDE!"
It was Molan. He shouted and shoved through the door, four frightened women. They filed into the room, one behind the other till Molan ordered them to halt. They stood in the center of the room, dressed in their green prison garb, a flimsy affair, more like a smock. Each of them were without anything on their feet and they stood cowering on the cold concrete floor.
"Well, here they are, Major. A miserable-looking lot if I ever saw one, don't you agree?" Delgado spit on the floor, the wad of saliva landing just inches away from the feet of the first female on the line.
"I've seen better," he replied. Captain Molan grabbed one of the women by the hair and dragged her forward.
"Look at the ass on this bitch!" he crowed as he twisted the woman around for Delgado to view. Delgado peered at the woman's buttocks. His tongue slid out over his lower lip. He whipped it across his dry lips and cleared his throat.
"Hmmmnnn ... nice ... she'll do." he murmured as his eyes travelled up the woman's full flanks. Molan spun her around and Delgado stared at her.
"Come here, you," Molan released her and she took three uncertain steps and stood before him. Her eyes were frightened. At eighteen, she was in the full bloom of womanhood but she had the look of a little girl as she dropped her eyes to the floor and stood motionless. Delgado took a step forward. His hand went to her bosom and he fondled her breasts, running his hand from one side of her dress to the other.
"Nice tits, you have ... Big nipples?" he asked as his thumb and forefinger felt through the thin fabric for the girl's nipple.
"Take that dress off ... Strip!" he said as he removed his hand. Molan stood to the side and watched her embarrassment as she slowly reached down and grasped the hem of her garb. The room was as silent as a tomb. The girl pulled the dress up over her thighs. Her hips came into view, then her breasts. The dress passed over her head and then it was off. She stood there, eyes downcast, her dress in her hand.
"Hand it to the woman behind you." She turned and did as he ordered. The woman took her dress mutely. "Are you a virgin?"
"No." Her voice was shaky and she trembled as she spoke. Delgado played with her.
"How many times have you been fucked, girl?" A long silence ensued as she contemplated her answer."Once," she said.
"Just once, eh? Well, you needn't feel so bad about that. Who fucked you?"
"It was a ... my boyfriend," she said, her chin almost touching her chest.
"Well, you no longer can afford the luxury of a boyfriend, little girl, so I think I will rape you right now. What do you think of that, eh?" The girl dropped her head even lower and began to whimper softly. There was nothing else she could do. Delgado reached down and slipped his hand between her thighs. She trembled at his touch, near dead from shame. She stood nude before him as he slid his fingers between the lips of her cunt. Delgado looked past her shoulder at Molan.
"Leave us alone for a while. I think I'll entertain the young ladies by myself. I'll call you when I need you."
The Captain smiled. He nodded his head slightly and withdrew. The door closed behind him and the session was about to begin.
"You two," he said, indicating the two women immediately behind the nude girl. The women took a step forward and stood motionless.
"I want you two to hold her down while I fuck her in the ass-hole, understand?" They were completely dumbfounded. They had never been in such a situation before and all they could do was cast a glance at their young comrade.
"Take her over to the couch and start feeling her up. I want you two to get her nice and hot for me, go on, sit her down over there and get to it." He turned his attention to the remaining woman, a female who looked to be in her late twenties.
"Step forward, you." he barked and the woman stood in front of him.
"Undress me. first my boots," he said and he walked over to one of the chairs. The woman followed him. He sat down and stretched out his legs. The woman got down on her knees and began yanking off his boots, first the right one, then the left. When she had them off, the Major stood up, hands on his hips.
"Well, have you never undressed a man before? Come on, get my clothes off." The woman's hands went to his belt. Delgado looked down at her as she fumbled with the buckle. She undid the buckle, unzipped his fly and pulled his pants down around his thighs. He stepped out of them and stood before her in his shorts.
"Come on. come on. get on with it." he ordered, his tongue running back and forth along his lower lip. As the woman bent down and reached for his shorts, he put his hand behind her neck and held her while, with his free hand, he slipped out his limp dick. It Hopped out of the opening in his shorts and hung there. He pushed the woman to her knees.
"Suck it," he said, and he watched the shame well up in her eyes as she slowly bent her head forward, her right hand slipping around his flaccid cock. She gently lifted it and brought it forward to her lips. Delgado looked down and saw the head of it disappear into her mouth. The woman, her forehead pressed against Delgado's groin, gobbled on the head of his dick. Delgado looked over at the women on the couch. They had the young girl sitting between them on the bench. Her legs were spread and both women had their hands between her thighs, feeling her up.
"Work her over good! I want her dripping wet. Get her juices flowing!" At his orders, the women worked faster. One of them, a redhead., put her mouth on the girl's nipple and began to suck it, now and then nibbling on it with her teeth while her companion kept up a steady up and down movement with her hand between the girl's thighs. Delgado looked back to the blonde sucking his dick. He moved her head away from his groin in order to get a better view of his hardening cock slipping in and out between her lips. She had gotten his rod hard by this time and he enjoyed himself by watching as he guided her head back and forth along the length of it. The woman gagged as he stood up, his dick never leaving her mouth as the head of it nudged the back of her throat. By this time, his staff was good and hard. He moved his hips back and it slid out of her mouth. She looked up and he patted her head.
"You are very good at it. Have you had much practice'.'"
The woman was at a loss to say the right thing. She looked up at him and nodded her head slightly as she replied.
"No sir ... no." She dropped her eyes and remained kneeling before him. He kept pulling the foreskin back and forth over the head of his pulsating cock while he looked down at her.
"Well, I am going to see that you get plenty of practice in the future, young lady. From now on, you are going to be my private cock-sucker. You will service none other. I shall leave word with the Captain to that effect."
The woman, her blonde hair hanging, uncombed, down over her shoulders, lowered her head in embarrassment. Her knees were beginning to ache on the hard floor. Delgado noticed it and ordered her to her feet. She stood up gratefully, her hands at her side and waited passively while he, still rubbing his prick back and forth, looked at the other three on the bench.
"Bring her over here ... Put her on her back up on the platform."
The two women assisted the frightened girl to her feet and. wordlessly, they walked with her across the room to the platform. All three mounted it. the girl between them. They gently pushed her down on her back so that she was lying flat on the platform. Pulling the blonde by her wrist, Delgado strode over to the platform. He let go of the woman and mounted it, looking down at the girl. She averted her eyes. He bent down on both knees, resting his buttocks on his heels and inserted his finger into the girl's cunt. It was very tight and slightly moist. He pushed it in about two inches and wiggled it against the walls of her pussy. The girl moaned as she felt his rough finger. She twisted her head to the side and closed her eyes tightly. Delgado smiled.
"I'm going to fuck the ass-hole off you, you little bitch!" he yelled and he motioned the others to hold her down.
CHAPTER III
The three women, at Delgado's direction, held the girl while he hunched over her, his dick in his hand, seeking the entrance to her ass. The redhead held the girl's wrists while the other two each held her ankles. Delgado made a motion and the girl's legs were brought up, high over her head which exposed fully her treasures to the greedy eyes of the Major.
"Now hold her steady and don't let her wriggle out of your grip while I stick it up her ass-hole. Steady now!"
The three women held the girl as Delgado nudged her ass-hole with the head of his throbbing cock.
"In we go, eh? In we go. Hold her!"
The girl began to scream as she felt his thick head push against her tiny anus. Delgado strained mightily as he sought to penetrate her ass-hole but it proved too tight in addition to the fact that the victim of his lust was not cooperating. She tensed her buttocks, squeezing her ass-hole tight and further efforts proved of no avail. Delgado was angry but determined. He stood up and motioned the women to the side. Reaching down he grabbed a handful of the girl's hair and dragged her, screaming, to her feet.
SLAP! SLAP! He batted her in the face and she sank to her knees, wailing. Delgado hauled her to her feet again but this time, instead of hitting her again, he forced her over the felt-covered drum, her head down and her plump ass high in the air.
"Tie her to it, quickly!" he ordered and the three women jumped to the task. They bound the girl's ankles to the platform, spreading them as far apart as they were able. Her wrists were bound together and secured to a metal hook sunk into the base of the platform. The women stepped back as Delgado called for a riding crop. The blonde woman stepped off the platform, picked up an eighteen inch riding crop from one of the tables over by the wall and brought it to him. He grabbed it from her and whipped it through the air. Attached to the very tip of the leather crop was a half inch wide strip of raw-hide approximately ten inches long. It made a sharp whistling sound as he snapped it in the air.
Delgado, his passion for sex temporarily abated for the moment in favor of the riding crop, grabbed the redhead and pushed her to her knees beside the victim he motioned for the other woman to kneel on the other side.
"Spread her cheeks and hold them as wide as they'll go!" he barked and the two women each placed their two hands on the girl's checks and pulled them far apart. The crack between her buttocks disappeared as her cheeks were spread and her anus was prominently displayed. Delgado, the crop in his right hand, looked down at the sight and drooled.
"Let this be a lesson to all of you!" he rasped as he stepped back a pace and prepared to whip the flesh so prominently displayed before him. The two women who were holding the girl's checks apart, leaned back, their hands gripping the victim's buttocks as Delgado, flexing the crop, finished his threat.
"When I give a slave an order, I expect obedience. When I don't get it, I am compelled to set an example. Disobedience is stupid. Nothing good ever comes of it as you will all sec shortly. All this poor dumb bitch had to do was relax and take it up her ass-hole but, no, she squeezes it tight, causing me to expend extra time and effort. Now. she will be beaten on her anus and she will be fucked to boot."
He took a deep breath, set his feet apart for balance and raised the crop high over his head. The victim began to cry and beg forgiveness.
"Please! I'm sorry. I'll try to obey! I AAGGGHHH!"
Her pleading was broken off in mid-sentence by her scream as the riding crop whistled through the air, the leather tip of it whipping down across the girl's little bottom. Again and again Delgado brought the end of the raw-hide strand down and each time the whip end laced her twitching anus. The screams coming from her mouth echoed and reechoed around the stone-walled room, long and loud. After perhaps fifteen lashes, he stepped back for a breather. Sweat was beginning to stand out on his face. He wiped his arm over his cheek and stared at his victim's ass. In an effort to case the stinging pain which shot deep into her very bowels, the girl's ass-hole was twitching in and out, rapidly.
"OH! NO! NO! NO MORE! NO MORE!" she screamed over and over, her little button working itself back and forth frantically.
"Ah ha! now you want to be fucked in your ass-hole, eh!" he yelled as he trailed the end of the crop across the tight ring of her belabored anus. He looked down at her genitals and smiled grimly. He turned to one of the women and handed her the riding crop. In her ear, he whispered:
"Beat the living shit out of her. If you don't, I shall kill you very slowly. Beat her with all your strength."
He crammed the riding crop into her hand and stepped off the platform. He sat down in one of the chairs, scrunched down in it with his legs spread and his cock in his hand. He watched as the woman positioned herself behind the girl. The other women were still pulling the girl's cheeks apart and as before, they both leaned away from the target. Delgado let the woman bring the crop down on the screaming girl's buttocks perhaps fifteen times before he stood up and called: "STOP!"
He walked over and mounted the platform. His prick was thrusting towards the ceiling. He shoved the woman out of the way and dropped to his knees behind the girl's blistered ass. Placing his hands on her hips he leaned forward. His pulsating dick bobbed against her anus. It was so sore from the thrashing, she was barely aware that he had pushed it through her opening. The little muscle opened at the first pressure and his head slid inside her.
"Now I'll FUCK the ass off you!" he yelled suddenly as he rammed his hips into her thighs. His prick dug into her ass-hole while she screamed her head off. The noise she was making only fanned the Fires of Delgado's sadism; indeed, he preferred screams to silence and he whacked away at her hole with vicious thrusts of his big dick.
"UH! UH! UH! UH!!" he grunted with every thrust and, as he did so, the girl moaned her reactions.
"OWWW!" she yelled and each time she did, he seemed to drive his dick in twice as hard. After fifteen minutes of steady fucking, he had packed her anus with a terrific air pocket and now, every fourth or fifth stroke, the air was forced out of her stretched anus. This 'farting' on the victim's part increased Delgado's pleasure all the more and he began to rave.
"I'll fuck the shit out of you! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! YOU CUNT!" he screamed as he ground his hips against her behind. As thirty minutes passed to forty-five minutes, her moans fell off in intensity. She was no longer able to scream. She was sore from the whipping but, not so strangely enough, she was not aware of the pain of the crop as she had been before Delgado stuck his prick up her ass-hole. After almost an hour of sodomizing her with his big cock, she lay limply across the drum.
Finally, he came. His orgasm was accompanied by the usual grunts and groans as he emptied his load deep inside her ass-hole. She felt his hot fluid along the walls of her anus as he pumped out a big load. When he was through coming, he jerked his hips backwards and his big member came sliding through her anus, covered from head to hilt with smears of shit. He watched as her anus slowly closed. He put his finger to it and pressed inward. The tip of his finger slid in easily. In sodomizing her, he had stretched her anus and she would never again be as tight for anyone who followed suit.
"Good ass-hole! Very good fucking!" he said as he patted her behind. He stepped off the platform and called the blonde.
"Fill a pan with wash water. Bring a bar of soap and a cloth," he told her. She turned and went over to a sink across the room. Delgado looked at the other two. He pointed to the girl, still tied over the drum.
"Untie her. I want her to clean off my dick." The two women turned and set about the business of freeing the unfortunate victim. It could have been worse, as they would no doubt remind her when they got back to their cells. Delgado could have killed her had he been of a mind. She was lucky, all he wanted to do was bang her in the ass. Next time, she would be more accommodating.
The woman brought a pan with some warm water in it. She placed it on a small stand, the soap and wash cloth beside it.
"Get over here, you ass-hole," he called, and the young girl whom he had just sodomized came over to him and stood silently, her arms at her sides and a blank look on her face.
"Put some soap on that cloth and wash off my dick. It's your shit, you clean it."
Without a word, the girl bent down and picked up the wash rag. She dipped it into the water and began to soap the cloth. Delgado watched her indifferently. When she had soaped up a lather on the wash cloth, she reached down and took hold of his limp dick. She brought the cloth up and began to wash the length of his rod. He watched her soap and then rinse off his dick. She was about to dry it when he interrupted her.
"No, you don't! My balls! Wash my balls too! What's the matter with you?" The girl murmured an apology and picked up the soap and cloth again. She soaped his balls as he stood over her. She was on her knees and so it was an easy task to reach between his legs and clean the two balls which hung low between his thighs. When she was finished, she dried them, very gently, and for want of something to do in which to signal that she was through, she folded the towel and placed it neatly beside the bowl.
When he was fully dressed again, Delgado, without saying a word to the women, walked to the door. He unlocked it and stepped outside into the corridor. The door closed behind him on creaky hinges and he locked it. Upstairs, he bid Adieu to the Captain and rang for his driver. Five minutes later, he was on his way back to the city. Instead of going to his office when the Buick pulled up in front of headquarters, he sent the guard inside with a message that he could be reached at another address.
He had enough of people that night. All he wanted was to be left alone. He was tired and he needed sleep and so he decided to check in at one .of the best hotels in the city. There was no fee, of course, and the help waited on him hand and foot. He told the night captain at the hotel what he wanted and soon he was asleep in a great big round bed on the eighteenth floor of the hotel, a guard furnished by the hotel staff stationed outside his door. He slept peacefully.
Major Delgado arrived at his office the next morning promptly at nine o'clock. In spite of the fact that he had gotten a good night's rest, he was irritable. He had many irons in the fire but nothing seemed to come of it. He got the day rolling by picking up the intercom:
"This is Major Delgado!" he barked. "I want last night's reports brought into my office right away. Is L.t. Mako in yet? I want to see him as soon as he arrives." The receiver put down, Delgado pulled a long sigh and dropped his hands into his lap. A sudden feeling of weariness had engulfed him. He folded his hands, lay his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. He thought of Mako, his right hand man. He looked at his watch, 9:30 and no sign of him. He wondered where the Lieutenant was. why he had not arrived.
"Damn that Mako!" he swore as the door to his office opened. A corporal entered, saluted smartly and left a file of messages on his desk. Delgado returned his salute. The man turned on his heel and left.
Picking up the envelope, Delgado dumped the contents on his desk and began to sort through them. Some he read briefly and tore up, others he scanned over lightly before returning them to the file. He stared long and hard at one paper in particular. It read: "Mendoza murdered. 6/9/70. Body found 2nd fl. warehouse. 26 del Corso Pnr."
Delgado gritted his teeth. Another agent picked off! He swore as his fist slammed against the top of his desk. He had every right to anger. Mendoza brought to fifteen the number of men he had lost and still no one comes forth with information. He reaches for the phone.
"Yes, Yes, what is it? Are you certain of that? Good! Very good! Yes. Bring her here at once!" He put the phone on its cradle and a big smile crossed his features. He leaned back, lifting his boots to the edge of his desk, pulled a cigar from his pocket and lit it. He blew out a long plume of grey cigar smoke. The grin seemed painted on his face.
Delgado had reason to suddenly feel expansive. The call he had just received was from Lt. Mako who at that moment was in the process of returning to the Rio Del Toro one Helena Del Farenza, the woman who, above all others, was most responsible for the latest unrest. Under her name, leaflets had been distributed urging the students to revolt. In spite of Delgado's efforts to put down her printing operations, the number of daily sheets in the city numbered two to three thousand and now, at least, he had the leader. He was sure the printing of provocative material would continue but at least he had his hands on the perpetrator of many of his most recent troubles and now he was going to have his turn.
Fifteen minutes later. Lt. Mako opened the door to Delgado's office and shoved his prisoner inside. Delgado peered at her. She was dressed as a peasant woman. Indeed she looked like a peasant woman. Dark eyes, high cheek bones, buxom build. Her eyes flashed fire as she was pushed, unceremoniously, into the office. She stood before Delgado and glared. He leaned forward, removed the cigar from his mouth and licked his lips.
"You are Helena Del Farenza?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows as he spoke the words. The woman looked back at him, full of self-confidence.
"Yes, that is my name, but you already know my name so why waste my time and your time with the obvious?"
"Yes, yes, you are quite right, Miss Farenza, quite right, so let us get down to some more important facts concerning your activities, shall we?" She looked at him, a blank look on her face. Lt. Mako meanwhile had stepped backward several paces and stood behind her, his arms behind his back.
"We. of course, are well aware of your activities on the campus. For the past seven months. Miss Feranza, you have been somewhat of a problem for my department. I intend to make absolutely certain that you will never again be a thorn in the side of the Police Department."
"j demand a fair trial by a jury of my peers," she retorted, her confidence still brimming over. Delgado smiled, held out his arms and shrugged.
"But of course, you will receive a fair trial. My assistant and I shall volunteer our own time and effort to see that you get exactly what's coming to you. As a matter-of-fact, I think we should get started right away. It may turn out to be a long trial." Delgado looked past the woman at Lt. Mako.
"Lt. Mako, will you kindly see that Miss Feranza is escorted to the special room we have set aside in the basement for our, ah, special guests."
"I demand a fair trial!" the woman suddenly blurted out as Mako came up behind her and took her arm.
"Believe me, we will both do our very best to see that nothing in your, aaaa, 'trial' is overlooked or left out in any way. We intend to make certain that you receive the full benefit of our attention. Take her away."
Mako spun her around and pushed her out through the door. When they were gone, Delgado took several meditative puffs on his cigar, savoring the sweet taste of victory. True, he mused, it was a small one as such things go, but it was significant. In addition to having found the leader of a publishing cell, his men had also confiscated three heavy duty printing presses along with numerous printing machines and other equipment necessary for the underground's purposes. Without the presses, a great deal of inflammatory material would cease flowing. It was a blow, he felt certain, the underground would not recover from.
At six-fifteen that evening, he summoned his assistant and together they descended to the lower basement where Mako had deposited the prisoner. Mako unlocked the door to her tiny cell.
"Alright, out, hurry it up!" he barked. The woman, who had been sitting on the small, narrow bunk, slipped her feet to the floor and stood up. Once outside, the cell door was locked and they started off down the corridor, Delgado leading the way, followed by the prisoner with Mako bringing up the rear. At the end of the passageway they turned to the right, down a short darkened hall till they came to a single door. Mako stepped forward and unlocked it. He stepped inside, crooked Iris head and the woman, followed by Delgado, stepped inside. The door closed behind them.
It was a rather small room, being no more than fifteen by twelve. The ceilings were low and there was one light bulb shining down from its very center. In the middle of the room was the usual table on which prisoners were tortured. This one was rather low, being no more than a foot off the floor. At its sides were belts for securing the victim's arms and legs. Across the room, against one wall, was a closet, the doors of which were closed. There was a couch next to it and a small end table with an ashtray standing next to it. Delgado turned to the woman.
"Well, my dear, this is where you will be tried. We will first begin with some questions. Mako!" He looked past her at his assistant and nodded his head.
Mako came up to the prisoner and, taking her by the arm, he led her over to the couch. He shoved her down onto the cushions while Delgado pulled up another chair and set it directly in front of her. He sat down in the chair while Mako went to the closet. He opened its doors and, reaching in, he brought out a small plastic box. He set it down on the end table and opened it, taking out a hypodermic needle and laying it down. Next, he withdrew a small vial containing a small quantity of clear-looking fluid. The woman watched him nervously, her hands in her lap, the fingers digging into the palm of her hand. Delgado sat in the chair and stared at her, noting her reactions.
"What does this mean? I demand a fair trial!" she cried as she turned her head in time to see Mako filling the hypodermic. He drew back the plunger till fully half the hollow tube filled with the clear fluid. He withdrew the needle from the vial and pressed the plunger. A drop of fluid fell from the needle and all was ready.
"Roll up your sleeve!" he said, coming around to the front of the couch. He sat down next to her, the needle poised in his right hand. The woman slowly unbuttoned her sleeve and began to roll it up over her arm, past the elbow. She stopped and looked at Mako.
"Higher!" She rolled it higher.
"Listen, as a citizen, I demand!"
CRACK! Delgado had leaned forward and smashed his fist in her face, cutting off her words. She screamed and brought her hands to her face. Seconds later, a thin trickle of blood slid down between her fingers. It moved slowly along her wrist as she bent her head down, seeking to ease the pain.
"You son-of-a-bitch!" he yelled, "you are in no position to demand anything. It is we who will do all the demanding and it is you who will obey!" He glanced at Mako and nodded. Mako took the needle and brought the point to her arm, just above the elbow.
"Hold still!" he cursed as he plunged the needle into her flesh. She winced as it pierced her skin. Holding her by the arm, Mako depressed the plunger, sending the fluid into her flesh. He withdrew it and placed it on the table next to the couch.
"In a few moments, you will tell us everything you know, my dear. The drug is a new one and so far, it hasn't failed," he said as they both watched their victim. She was moaning into her hands, head down, rocking back and forth.
"Get your hands down!" Mako yelled, taking her wrists and pulling her hands down to her sides. When this was done, they both saw that Delgado's fist had split her lip and blood still ran from the cut. Some of it had spilled on her white blouse and it began to dry. Delgado leaned forward. He peered at her intently for a few moments. Then he shrugged and looked at Mako. His lieutenant reached over with his thumb and forefinger and spread her eyelid.
"She's under."
"Good!" Delgado replied as he drew his chair close against the couch.
"What is your name?" he asked. The woman opened her eyes slowly and looked at him dully. Her lips, which were beginning to swell, caused her words to come out slurred.
"Helena."
"Helena what?"
"Helena Del Farenza," she replied between puffy lips.
"Very good. Miss Farenza, very good, you answer very well. Now I want you to continue to answer my questions and you will only speak the truth, do you understand what I am saying?"
"Yes, only the truth," she mumbled, deeply under the influence of the drug. Delgado smiled and continued the questioning.
Thirty minutes later, the drug began to wear off and she no longer responded to his questioning. She became evasive and began to balk. Delgado looked at Mako.
"Give her another dose, quickly."
"I'm afraid that was all we had. The supplies we ordered haven't come in yet." Delgado was furious. There were more information still to be obtained and he had no time to lose waiting for a supply of truth serum which might not arrive from the capitol for another day or two, perhaps a whole week.
"Damn! Damn! Damn!" he swore. He got up off his chair and pushed it to one side.
"Listen, you bitch!" he yelled, looking down at the prisoner, "I want to know who is responsible for the bombings. I want his name and the names of the son-of-a-bitches who work with him and you are going to tell me!" he bellowed, reaching down and jerking her to her feet. He grasped her by the throat and brought his face to within an inch of hers.
"Talk!" he boomed. The woman attempted to turn her face to the side.
"I don't know!" she cried, "I don't know!"
Delgado, grasping her by the ears, shoved his face into her neck and bit her. She jerked from his grasp and screamed. Blood showed on her neck where his teeth left a perfect ring of bite marks. She put her hand to her wound and rubbed at it.
At a glance from his boss, Mako stepped up to the woman and threw a half nelson around her neck. He jerked her head back and held her. Delgado reached down and, taking the hem of her dress, he tore it up the middle. Another jerk and he tore it completely off. She was now standing in her blouse and panties and she struggled with Mako, seeking to ease his hold around her neck. Delgado drove his hand between her thighs and, grasping the crotch of her panties in his hand, he gave a tremendous yank and pulled them off. He tossed them into a corner and turned back to his victim.
"I will tear the hair from your cunt, one by one if you insist on being so stubborn. The choice is yours!" he yelled.
"I swear I don't know who they are!" she screamed as Mako tightened his hold on her neck. Delgado was livid with rage.
"Fucking, lying whore!" he rasped as he reached out and, grasping her nipple between his fingers, he squeezed as hard as he could.
"AAGGGHHH!"
"Who are they? Answer me!" he bellowed as one hand went down between her thighs. He grabbed a handful of her bush and pulled with a quick jerk. Again she screamed in agony as he withdrew his hand, holding a tuft of her cunt hairs in his fist.
"I give you one more chance to spare yourself. The names of the people in your cell. NOW!"
"NO! NO! PLEASE! I CANNOT."
"Ah ha! We'll see about that!" Delgado roared at her. Mako started to hustle her over to the table. She screamed and kicked so that he had to lift her off her feet. He bent her across the table, still kicking and screaming while Delgado strapped her ankles, one by one. When she was subdued, both men took off their shirts preparing to work hard on their subject.
The woman was screaming at the top of her voice. She lifted herself against her bonds in a futile effort to free herself but, of course, it was hopeless. She sank back on the hard table, her breasts rising and falling beneath her blouse. Mako went over to her and wrenched it from her body. She was now completely nude. Without another word, both men began to torture her.
"You take that side and I'll take this side," Delgado ordered. Mako went around to the other side of the table and both put their fingers to her nipples, squeezing as hard as they could. The prisoner screamed out in pain. She twisted her body one way and then another as her nipples were mashed between the fingers of the two sadists but still she didn't talk. Beads of sweat stood out on her forehead and her face was a mask of twisted pain.
"You talk or I kill you!" Delgado roared like a madman as he shoved his finger deep into her cunt. He worked it around roughly, his fingernail digging at the smooth walls of her vagina. She heaved herself against her bonds and fell back limply. Delgado withdrew his finger from her pussy with a quick backward movement. It came out bloody and he wiped it on her belly.
"Fucking whore! Fucking whore!" he kept yelling, his frustration turning him into a raving lunatic.
Mako noticed his chief's state of mind and he tried to match his ferocity. He balled his fists up and drove them, in a staccato of punches, into her face. He punched her eyes and pumelled her mouth and the blood poured down her face and neck.
"Step back! Out of the way!" Delgado shouted, completely mad at this point. He whipped out a pen-knife and began to stab the woman in the thighs. Each time the blade was pulled from her flesh, a pool of blood gushed from the wound and dripped onto the table. He drove the four inch blade into her inner thigh, again and again, and the screams resounded about the room like thunder.
Delgado, completely at a loss to deal with his own frustration, did the only thing he knew how. Raising the knife high over his head, he brought it down in a frenzy of stabbing. The blade punctured her breasts, neck, shoulders and belly. He kept stabbing at her and little by little, her moans subsided. Blood poured from her mouth and she began to gurgle. Her eyes began to glaze while the knife stabbed her repeatedly. Finally, she was still but Delgado kept plunging the blade into her lifeless body, seemingly unable to stop.
"She's dead. Major! She's dead!" Mako cried. Delgado halted, knife in the air. and stared dully at his victim. He dropped the knife, turned and walked from the room like a robot, leaving Mako to get rid of the body.
CHAPTER IV
One night, early in the evening, Delgado was sitting alone in his office. Most of the staff had closed for the night. It was quiet in the building save for an intermittent squawk from the communications room down the hall.
He had been sitting quietly at Ids desk, his head in his hands as if he were asleep. He sat very still for a long time, his chest rising and falling almost imperceptibly. Every once in a while, he would draw in his breath and emit a deep sigh. He was obviously in the depths of a deep depression.
It had been coming on very gradually ever since the murder of the Feranza woman two weeks previously. He knew he had lost his head with her, that he had not wanted to kill her but he had killed her and that was that and now he began to suffer the pangs of remorse but that was only the half of it. He realized that a good policeman never lost his head when questioning a prisoner, at least, not until he had obtained the information he was after.
The Feranza woman had told him nothing of any importance and by the time he had gotten around to the crucial questions, the drug had worn off and now she was dead. Where did he go from here? Suddenly, as though moved by an unseen demon, he raised his head. His hands went down to the edges of the desk which he gripped tightly, the knuckles turning white. With arms trembling, he threw back his head and let out a piercing scream. He held the scream for a full thirty seconds, his mouth twisted horribly, eyes almost turned back into his head so that only the whites were visible. Feet pounded down the corridor and the office door flew open.
"Major! Major! What is the matter, sir?" a corporal yelled as he burst into the office. He stood there, one hand gripping the doorway, his Weight on his toes. As he gaped at his superior, he slowly let the heels of his feet touch the floor.
"Major! Major sir, are you all right?" he gasped again, but Delgado never heard him. He stared straight ahead, lost in some horrible dream. Gradually, he relaxed his fingers on the desk, his eyes slowly returned to normal. As he focused on the corporal, he sank back into the back of his chair, completely drained of energy.
"Uh, it's alright, I'm O.K. I was sleeping, must have been a bad dream, you may go now."
"Right sir. If you want anything, I am just down the hall," he said. The major gave no reply and the man backed out of the room, closing the door noiselessly.
Delgado sat very still, his head resting against the back of the chair. His body felt like a piece of stone. With a great effort, he heaved himself forward and leaned on the desk. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. The ringing of the telephone snapped him out of his lethargy. He reached for it.
"Hello, Delgado," he said. Straining to keep his eyes open, he listened. The call was short and he hung up. He leaned over and punched the extension on the intercom.
"I want my car and a jeep with four men outside in five minutes," he barked. He dropped the phone in its cradle and stood up. Going over to the gun cabinet, he unlocked it and withdrew a big, black Spanish .38. He flipped open the cylinder and with shells he had taken from an ammo box, he loaded the weapon, spun the chamber again and stuck the weapon into his shoulder holster.
The phone call he had received was to inform him that Lt. Mako had been found with a bullet in the back of his head on the third floor of an old, abandoned building on the outskirts of the city. The caller gave his name, saying he would wait for the police to arrive, then hung up.
The loss of his trusted aide was a severe blow to Delgado. He depended a great deal on the man and now he was gone.
"SON OF A BITCH!" he yelled aloud as the fury built up inside of him. With venom flowing freely in his veins, he slammed out the door and made for the buick. He hopped into the back seat. The car leapt forward, careened out the driveway and headed down the Rio Del Toro at top speed, the jeep bringing up the rear.
They made the trip in twenty-five minutes, sirens blaring. He had a few bad moments during the run as a heavy wagon boxed them in between a large moving van. He fumed, pistol held in his hand as the wagon, driven by an old man, finally got out of the way and they roared on.
Delgado breathed a sigh of relief as one of the revolutionaries' favorite tactics was to box in a car and shoot it up. On more than one occasion, he had lost a man in that manner. He holstered his pistol and roared on to their destination. As they screamed up to the building, a small knot of farmers had gathered about the entrance. He shouldered his way through and bounded up the three flights. There, over in a corner, was the crumpled body of his aide. A little pool of blood had formed beneath his head, signifying that he had not lived long after being shot.
Kneeling down beside the prostrate form, he went through the pockets. Mako's pistol was missing along with his identification. Delgado gritted his teeth and stood up.
"Who found him?" he asked, whirling about. One of the soldiers pushed forward a little old man dressed in the clothes of a peasant. The little man kept bobbing his head up and down. His hands were crossed in front of him as though he were in constant prayer and meditation. Delgado fixed him with a hard look.
"What were you doing up here on the third floor?" he asked.
The little man, still bobbing his head, only faster now, told him, in a high squeaky voice, that he had chased a chicken which had flown from its coop. The bird had flown into the building and the old man had followed it. When he finally cornered the fowl on the third floor, he discovered the body. Delgado dismissed him. The old man seemed glad to be done with all the officialdom and he shuffled quickly out of the room. Delgado cursed under his breath. He turned to his men and gave orders for the body's removal. Turning to a subordinate, he ordered the man to comb the entire three floors for any clues.
"Report back to me when you are finished," he said and he made Ids way out of the building.
"Let's go," he yelled at his driver as he jumped into the back seat. The man cranked it over and they were off in a cloud of dust. Delgado, slumped down in the back seat, mulled over the situation.
His best man had just been knocked off and, as in the past, no one saw nor heard anything. Of course, it had to be the underground. He knew that, one by one, his men were systematically being wiped out and there didn't seem to be anyway he could stop it but he also realized that he had to stop it. It simply could not go on. Something drastic had to be done and that something occupied his thoughts all the way back to the Rio Del Toro. When they arrived, he went inside to be met by Lt. Jonda, the officer in charge of the night's city patrol.
"We have picked up two men and a woman, sir. All were armed and gave us a fight when we ordered them to halt. They are downstairs at the moment," he said.
"Have you questioned them yet?"
"No sir. We brought them in only fifteen minutes ago."
"All right, let's . go," he said and they walked swiftly down the hallway and got into the elevator. They got off in the basement. The lieutenant preceded the major leading him to one of the detention rooms where prisoners were held over before questioning. He nodded to the guard outside the door. The man opened it and they went inside.
The three prisoners, each handcuffed to the other, sat on a wooden bench. They were a sullen lot and as Delgado approached them, they lowered their eyes. Without a word, Delgado lifted his booted foot and kicked one of the men in the shins. The man cried out and tried to hold his leg but the shackles prevented him from reaching down. Delgado moved to the left and kicked the next man in the same place. As the second man doubled up in pain, he moved in front of the woman. He didn't kick her. Instead, he balled up his fist and drove it into her face, knocking her backwards over the bench. As she fell, the others strained to keep from falling with her. Delgado motioned to the officer.
"Release the woman!" he ordered, waving his arm at the woman who was trying to get back on the bench. The officer went round, slid a key into her cuffs and released her wrists.
"Get up, pig!" he bellowed. The woman slowly rose and stood up. Delgado reached out his arm to its full length and crooked his finger at her.
"Come here, Pig," he almost whispered.
The woman, who was perhaps in her early thirties, moved slowly around the bench and stood before him. She was scared but she made an effort to conquer her fear by looking him straight in the eye.
"You belong to the underground, do you not'.'" he asked her. The woman, after a pause, nodded her head affirmatively.
"And the other two, they are also members of the underground, are they not?" Again she nodded her head.
"Well, that's just too bad for the three of you because I am going to make an example of you. Tomorrow morning, before the sun rises, you will be taken out and shot. Afterwards, your bodies will be strung up on lamp posts and left hanging for three days for all to see." He was smiling as he pronounced their fate. For their part, the prisoners remained passive, seemingly unmoved. Delgado crooked a thumb towards the door.
"Get them out of here. Lodge each of them in separate cells. Better yet, put them in solitary, that way they won't be able to communicate."
"Right, sir," the officer replied. He went up to the woman and put the cuffs on her wrists again; the end of the chain he reattached to the others. As Delgado stood silently watching, the lieutenant marched them out of the room. Delgado remained behind, finishing his cigarette. When he finished, he ground the butt out beneath his heel and returned to his office.
Nothing untoward happened during the next two hours. All was quiet and the Major filled in his time filling out duty reports covering the various activities of his office. By ten that evening he was finished. Going over to a file cabinet, he brought out a bottle of American gin and poured himself a full glass. When he had filled it, he went over to the couch and sat down, placing his drink on a small stand to the side. He leaned back against the soft cushions, his mind taken up with thoughts of the coming execution. Then, after having finished two glasses of gin, his mind suddenly focused on the woman. He licked his lips as that old, familiar feeling came over him.
Suddenly, he wanted her. The more he thought about her, the more he desired her. After mulling it over in his mind, he knew it was somewhat short sighted of him not to have considered her as a likely candidate for his sadistic lusts. He made up his mind and stood up, draining his third glass. Setting it clown, lie went out the door and made his way to the communications room. The officer in charge was nowhere in sight. He whirled around and went out the door, stumbling slightly. Lurching down the hall, he caught sight of the Lieutenant.
"Which cell have you put the woman in?" he asked, his breath slightly slurred. The officer looked at him in surprise.
"In solitary, as you ordered sir. She's in cell six. Is there anything wrong?" he asked. Delgado swallowed and cleared his throat.
"Ah, no. No. Nothing's wrong. I merely wondered, that's all," he said, running the back of his hand across his lips. He asked Delgado if he was needed.
"No. No, you may go. Forget about the woman. She is not to be executed. I've changed my mind. I intend to take her out to the penitentiary tonight. There will be only two for the firing squad. It is to take place at dawn. You will be the officer in charge. Make sure it is carried out properly if I am not back in time, do you understand?"
"Yes, sir, I shall look after it," he replied.
"Good, I'm counting on you, good night, Lieutenant."
"Good night, sir," he replied. In a moment he was gone, leaving Delgado standing alone in the hallway. Shaking off his lethargy, he made his way back to his office. He refilled his empty glass once again and drank half of it. Well fortified with the liquor, he walked out of his office, locked the door and went down the hall to the key room. He found the key under the woman's cell number and dropped it into his shirt pocket.
The elevator door opened at his touch and he descended to the lower floors where the solitary confinement cells were located. Arriving at her cell, he inserted the key and threw open the door. She was lying on the narrow bunk and she sat up when he stood in the doorway.
"Outside, my dear, outside," he half whispered to her. She slowly slid off the bunk and stepped outside. Delgado slammed the door shut and, leading her by the elbow, he steered her to the end of the hallway. It was dark down there and he missed his turn. Aware of his error, he turned her about and steered her into a little alcove at the end of which was a little door which led to an unused storeroom. Reaching in front of her, he opened the door and pushed her inside. The room was in total darkness and she stumbled about for her footing.
"Be still!" Delgado hissed as he lit a match. She leaned against one of the walls in the room while he went forward into the center of the room. All about him were stacks of old record boxes, musty and covered with dust. There was a candle on a small table. He bent over it and lit the wick. The candle shot up with a bright flame and in the flickering light, he could just barely make out her figure in the gloom.
"Come over here, my dear," he called. She came slowly towards the candle and halted. Delgado looked at her. His eyes dropped down along the curves of her lush body. She had fine legs, well-set haunches and a big bust. He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, pulling her to him. His lips mashed against her mouth as his hand dropped to her bust.
She didn't resist him as he fondled and squeezed her tits. He released her and stepped back a pace. She watched as his fingers undid the buckle on his belt. He dropped his pants down around his ankles and stepped out of them. Next, he whipped off his shirt and stood before her stark naked.
"Take your clothes off," he ordered. She looked at him, a look of fear on her face. Slowly, she lifted the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head. Delgado peered at her body as her hips came into view and then the dress was up and over her head.
He approached her and took her by the hand, leading her over behind a pile of crates. Behind the pile was an old daybed, put there in storage years ago. He sat down on the bed and pulled her down beside him. In the silent semi-darkness, broken only by the sounds of their breathing, he pulled her to him. He pushed her so that her head was back against the couch, his lips glued to hers. He tasted the saltiness in her mouth as he tongued her while, with one hand, he pulled at the crotch of her panties and inserted a finger into her bush, feeling for her cunt lips. She said not a word as he groped at her sex. He soon found what he wanted and slipped two fingers roughly into her vagina.
"OHHH!" she whimpered as his fingers began to ream her out. He kept it up for a full five minutes while she lay back against the couch, her breath coming in little gasps of pain. Pulling his fingers out, he suddenly stood up and bent his legs slightly so that his knees rested on the edge of the couch.
"Suck it! Suck this big stiff cock," he whispered, staring down at her. She gasped audibly at his command, her eyes making out the dim outline of his throbbing prong which bobbed stiffly from side to side.
"Go on. put it in your mouth and suck me off," he reiterated, taking in the dim outline of her thick lips. As she hunched forward, he asked her name.
"Linda," she replied in the same conspiratorial voice he had been using.
"Linda?" he repeated after hearing her name. He cocked his head to the side and peered at her.
"Linda is a pretty name for a pretty girl. Come pretty girl, suck my big prick," he said as he leaned forward. He watched her put her lips to his dick and when she had both lips pressed against his member, he pushed forward slightly and the head of his joint slid between her opening lips.
She gagged.
"Suck it!" he hissed, humping his hips back and forth. She made a greater effort to accommodate him, bobbing her head up and down on his shaft. It was clear to him that she had had no previous experience in this form of love-making so he slipped his swollen prick from her mouth. It bobbed stiffly and glistened in the semi-darkened room. Some of her saliva dripped from the head of it.
He got hold of her ankles, reaching down with his hands and he raised both her legs high over her head, spreading them as far apart as he was able. She sort of scrunched down with the upper part of her shoulders pressing down into the cushions, looking past her cunt to his big nodding dick. He leaned down and pushed it against her bush.
"Please! Don't! Please!" she begged, her voice barely above a whisper, but Delgado was well on his way in. She groaned in pain as his cock head pushed up into her tight pussy.
"Go on, cry some more, I enjoy it. I want you to cry, cause I'm going to fuck the ass off you, little girl. This is just the beginning." he panted as his shaft slammed into her ovaries, his balls slapping against her anus. With her ankles in his hands, he began to fuck away at her in earnest.
Linda moaned as she felt the full length of his big dick plunging into her, one stroke quickly following another. She gasped loudly as he gave her a particularly vicious poke and followed it up with a couple dozen more.
Delgado knew she was coming. He felt her cunt fill with her juices as he stroked her with all his power.
"Take that, you cunt!" he hissed as the head of his prick slammed into her cervix, "Take that and that!"
"NOOO!" she screamed so that he dropped her ankles and clapped his hand over her mouth. She continued to moan into the palm of his hand. Pressing his hips against her behind, he kept the head of his prong deeply imbedded in her cunt. He felt her tense her muscles as she came off again.
Delgado purposefully kept himself from coming. He intended to fuck her in the ass, one of his pet perversions and the time had come.
"OHHH!!" she cried as he whipped his stiff rod from her dilating pussy. In a flash, he picked her up and turned her over on her belly. He made her kneel on the daybed, her behind high in the air, her knees slightly spread and her face pushed into the cushions. Before he gave it to her, he bent down and rifled through his pockets till he found his pen-knife. He snapped open the blade and held it so that she could see it.
"Make one sound, just one little sound and I'll kill you," he hissed.
She saw the knife and nodded her head. "Yes. yes," she whispered, fearing for her life. Satisfied that she was sufficiently cowed for his purposes, he hunched his hips close against her cheeks and brought his throbbing, cunt-smeared prick up to her anus. He probed at it several times. He liked the feel of her tight little button against the head of his dick. He kept prodding her anus with it. working himself up to a heightened degree of sadistic lust. When he tired of it. he spit on his index finger and reamed out her ass-hole with the saliva. He wet his finger several times and slopped the saliva on her button.
Just . before getting down to the real business, he whispered in her ear. "Squeeze your ass-hole in and out, go on!" he wheezed, staring at her pinkish-brown muscle. His eyes were pop-eyed with unbridled lust as he waited for her to squeeze her anus. Then he saw it press in and out.
"DO IT AGAIN! don't STOP!" he ordered somewhat louder this time and she obeyed, working her muscle in and out for the depraved sadist. At one point, he pressed his finger against the button in order to feel the contractions of her anus as she worked it in and out.
"Ahhh, you have such a nice one." he murmured. "I'm going to enjoy opening it up. Your ass-hole is going to be a lot bigger when I get through fucking the shit out of you. little girl." he wheezed in the semi-darkness.
At that point, he glanced at the wall to the left of the couch and saw their shadows in the dim light, moving to and fro. In that moment he wished for a mirror, a hundred mirrors so that he might view her ass-hole from a hundred different angles as it opened to receive the head of his dick. He wanted to watch her anus spread open and slide up over his prick, gripping it tightly as he pushed it in. He made a mental note to order some mirrors.
"Stick out your behind, more. That's it. Now move back a bit, that's good. Now hold it right there."
"UHHH!"
"Bear down! Bear down!" he hissed in her ear as his cock strained to push through her pulsating anus. She bore down with her stomach muscles again and at the same time, he hunched forward, sending his cock head through her opening.
"AGGGHH!" she screamed, forgetting his earlier threat. But Delgado had no intention of harming her until he got what he wanted and, as his dick slowly pushed inside, he held her buttocks in his hands and sent it all the way inside, to the hilt as she screamed in pain. With his knife in his right hand, he leaned down and stabbed her in the thigh. She winced at the pain as he pumped away at her ass-hole. He hadn't stabbed her deeply. The point of the blade went about a quarter inch into her flesh but, because of the pain in her anus, she was barely aware of being stabbed.
"Move your behind, lady, move it on my prick! Go on! Move it!" he hissed as he slammed his hips against her cheeks again and again.
"PLEASE! PLEASE! NO MORE!" she pleaded as his dick slid in and out, faster and faster. Suddenly, he stopped. With one backward movement, he snapped his big, shit-smeared prick out of her hole. She groaned and collapsed on her side as he bent down and removed the strap from his pants. He lay it on the couch next to her and again he pulled her up on her knees.
"I'M NOT THROUGH WITH YOUR ASS HOLE YET. YOU GET IT UP HERE WHERE I CAN GET AT IT AGAIN!" he yelled, forgetting his earlier caution. He didn't want to be disturbed and he was afraid a guard would hear and come to investigate.
"Shhh. Be quiet, you little slut!" he hissed as he lifted her behind into position again, he propped her up on her knees once again and hefted his dirty dick in his hand. Looking down at her buggered ass-hole smeared with her shit, he leaned forward again and put the head of his dong against her hole.
"UNNNGGHH!" she cried as it slipped through her tortured anus. It went in easily enough the second time but she screamed just as loud as he shoved it up her ass, whereupon he began fucking her madly, his dick plunging in and out like a crank-shaft running wild. With each thrust, she was shoved into the cushions only to come bouncing back again on the end of his shaft to be thrown into them again on the next thrust.
So the sodomy continued, Delgado fucking her like a maniac, his balls slapping against her pussy with each vicious thrust. She didn't scream anymore. All she could muster were a few low moans at each thrust. Her ass-hole had gotten so sore, it was beginning to feel numb, save for her insides where it felt as though a white-hot poker was burning her guts out.
Delgado, after fucking her passionately for a full thirty minutes, began to feel the first, faint contractions deep down in his balls. The time, the crucial time was approaching for his climax and for her death. As he felt his own passion rising, he whipped the strap from the cushion and placed it around her neck, his hips never stopping. He slid the end of the belt through the buckle and drew it barely snug around her neck, still fucking away at her. The sensations rose, faster and faster.
"You are going to feel my hot juice in your ass in a moment, darling, it'll feel good, so good, yes! My load is cominggg!"
As he came, his dick spurting great gobs of thick, white, gooey come into her ass-hole, he put one hand against the back of her head and with the other he pulled the strap tight. She tried to throw him off as she choked, the strap drawing tighter and tighter. He felt the muscle in her anus constrict in her death struggle as he pulled tighter and tighter on the end of the belt, his dick shooting come all the while. Her anus constricted tighter and tighter, milking his dick dry as he babbled like an idiot.
So far gone was he in his own private world of sadism, that he wasn't even aware of the moment which told him his victim was dead and that happened when the anus ceases to squeeze against his cock. He was still fucking her, a dead woman, the belt tightly around her neck, when at last his orgasm subsided. He let go of the belt and collapsed on top of his victim, his prick still implanted firmly in her behind. It was only when he pulled it out that he realized that he had killed her. She fell over on her side and lay still, her face a grotesque mask of frozen pain. Her tongue lolled at the side of her mouth and her skin was a sea of blue and purple. "I, ayuh."
He tried to speak but the words just wouldn't come. He had no idea of what he wanted to say and he just mumbled incoherently, sitting on the floor, his head lying on the cushion, barely touching the corpse.
Perhaps an hour passed in the fully darkened room since he had first tried to speak. The candle had gone out twenty minutes or so and he sat with his head on the bed, his senses lost in a stupor from which he was slowly coming out of.
He staggered to his feet, swaying in the darkness. Seeking matches, he went over to the table and felt around for them. He struck a match and, in the eerie glow, he peered over in the direction of the day bed where the body of his victim lay very still.
With the match in his hand, he crossed to the daybed and picked up his pants. He finished dressing in the dark. Then he went to the door, opened it and peered out. No one was in sight so he hurried over to the couch and picked up the body. The arms Hopped heavily as he picked her up. Her head hung down and her eyes stared wide-eyed in a mask of horror. He dropped her down on the bed and picked up her dress. After five minutes of struggling, he got it on her and again he picked up the body and this time he headed out the door.
Once at her cell, he let her slide from his arms while he opened the door. With the door wide open, he stepped outside and dragged her body in. Using his belt, he strung her up on the cell bars so that, upon discovering her, it would appear to be a suicide by hanging. The knife wound in her leg? She had it when she was arrested. With everything in order, Delgado closed the cell door, locked it and made his way up to his office.
CHAPTER IV
RINGGGG!
"Uh, wha?" Delgado slowly roused himself. He sat on his couch and tried to clear his head.
"I'm coming! I'm coming, damnit!" He stood up and staggered to his desk. He sat on its top and grabbed for the phone. "Hello!"
Over the wire he listened while one of the guards on duty blurted out the story of his finding the occupant of cell 6 hanging dead with a belt around her neck. Delgado listened and yawned.
"That's too bad," he replied, yawning again. He looked at his watch. Five in the morning! No wonder he was so washed out. He had barely gotten to sleep. Telling the guard to notify the burial detail, he hung up the phone, stretched Ids arms and yawned again. He swiped at the phone before it rang twice.
"Yes?"
"Major, sir, this is Lieutenant Ramirez. I am conducting the firing squad this morning."
"Yes, well, very good, the sun is almost up. Have the prisoners brought to the wall. I shall be there myself in a few minutes. Hold everything until I arrive, I wish to see the dogs die," he said and dropped the phone back on its cradle. He went to the little bathroom just off his office and splashed water in his face. When he had dried his face he began to whistle a country tune. He dropped the tune while he urinated, flushed the toilet and went back into his office where he continued the ditty. The door opened and a corporal stepped just inside the door.
"Sir, the firing squad is ready. Lieutenant Ramirez told me to inform you they are waiting."
"Coming corporal, coming, let's go," he replied as he swung out the door, followed by the soldier. He had dropped the tune and his jaw began to set in hard lines.
They took the elevator down to the main floor, walked through one of the corridors and through another door which led out to a walled courtyard. Flowers grew along one side and along the top of the twelve foot high concrete wall, ran a line of steel spikes. Standing against the facing wall were the two condemned men. A line of riflemen stood at parade rest, the stock of the weapon resting at the toe of each man's foot, its barrel gripped in their left hands. Delgado strode up to the officer in charge.
"All set, Lieutenant?" he asked. The officer nodded stiffly. "Yes sir, we are ready," he said. He offered the Major a cigarette.
Delgado declined, swivelling his head towards the condemned men who were now being tied to stakes. Two soldiers were attending to the task. The doomed men made no utterances, allowing themselves to be bound to the stakes while each stared straight ahead. The job finished one of the soldiers asked the two men if they wanted blindfolds. Each shook his head in the negative and the soldiers marched back and took up stations behind the line of riflemen.
"What about their blindfolds?" the Major asked, turning towards the two soldiers. One of them left his position and, stepping up before the Major, saluted smartly and replied that the two men rejected blindfolds, preferring to die with their eyes on the blue sky.
"Blindfold them!" Delgado spat out. The soldier looked at him, imploringly. "But, Major."
"I said, blindfolds, you fool, get to it at once!" he rasped and the man turned after saluting him, and walked up to the two men who were now leaning against their bonds.
"I am sorry, gentlemen, but the Major insists that you have blindfolds. There is nothing I can do. Forgive me, but I must obey orders." The two men looked at one another. One nodded and the other gave a half smile.
"We understand. Do what you must do," the taller of the two replied and the soldier brought out the blindfolds from his shirt pocket. Stepping behind the first man, he reached around and slipped the length of black cloth over his eyes and tied it gently at the back of Ids head. Moving to the next man, he did likewise. Before turning to leave, the soldier stepped up in front of the men and whispered.
"I am truly sorry, please forgive me."
"Only God can forgive you, brother," one of the men replied, speaking through his soul as he prepared to meet his maker. The soldier, barely in his twenties, turned about and marched like a robot, taking up his former position behind the ranks. Delgado dropped his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it.
"O.K. Let's get it going, Lieutenant, I haven't got all day," he said, throwing back his shoulders as though having resolved some inner conflict. The Lieutenant nodded and turned away. He marched past the line of waiting soldiers and took up a position at the far end of the line. He stood ram-rod stiff. As he was about to open his mouth, one of the condemned men suddenly cried out.
"DELGADO! MAJOR DELGADO!" he yelled across the courtyard. The Lieutenant who was about to give the order for the men to come to attention, froze. He looked at Delgado as the condemned man yelled again.
"Major, I'll make a deal with you, listen to me. I have information of the utmost importance. You would be a fool not to listen to me. COME! I WILL TELL YOU!" the man yelled. Delgado thought for a moment. He was undecided. Some of the soldiers began to shuffle in embarrassment. They wanted to get the business over with. They were nervous. Most of them had never been on a firing squad before and the delay was intolerable. Unlike the Major, they were not fanatics and each man, if given the choice, would have gladly voted himself out.
Delgado weighed the possibilities. He wished the fool hadn't waited for this particular moment in order to make a deal. He had ordered an execution and he damned well would have one. On the other hand, if word got back to his superiors that he had executed a revolutionary without first having tortured him for any information he might be capable of giving, it would prove very damaging and just might cost him his promotion to Colonel, never mind the ass-kissers at command headquarters who would just leap at the opportunity to replace him.
"Delgado! Don't be a fool!" the man yelled again. "Come and listen to what I have to say, you can only gain, believe me!" Delgado would have liked to strangle the man and. reluctantly, he held one hand up as a signal for the Lieutenant to hold off. He shuffled his cigarette pack in his fist and bent his lips down, pulling one out with his lips. Shoving the pack into his breast pocket, he shuffled off in the direction of the doomed man, the cigarette hanging, unlit, from his mouth. Approaching the man who had spoken, hestopped short a few paces, took the cigarette from his mouth and addressed the man behind the blindfold. "Speak!"
"What are your terms?"
"That depends on what information you give me." he replied, replacing the cigarette between his lips and reaching for a light. The man considered his answer while Delgado lit up.
"Suppose I tell you the names of four of the leaders and where they can be found. Then what?" he asked, moving his chest against his bonds. The ropes had been tied lightly and they began to bother him.
"Then I shall let you go," he replied, blowing a plume of smoke into the blindfold.
"How do I know that you will keep your word? What is to prevent you from shooting me after you have the information?" the man continued, stubbornly.
"I am a man of my word. You will just have to trust me," he said, hoping to hide his annoyance. He was growing impatient. The man was insufferable. Delgado considered taking him off the post and cutting his balls off for interrupting his ceremony. He didn't entirely dismiss the idea. He was livid with repressed rage.
"Listen, my friend, you are taking up too much of my time. Either you talk here and now or you don't talk at all. I will be back in one minute. If you continue stalling. I shall regard this whole episode as a fraud and you will be shot." He turned on his heel and stalked back to the line of riflemen. He stopped at the end of the line and then, for the lack of something better to do. he brought them to 'present arms.' The line snapped to and presented their rifles for inspection. Delgado moved to the first man and peered at the bolt. It had been snapped back and a cartridge was clearly visible in the open chamber. After peering at it, he stepped back and moved to the next man. He moved swiftly down the line, merely going through the motions. At the end of the line he turned to the Lieutenant.
"The pig is merely bluffing. He is a coward and he is afraid to die. I will call his bluff and we shall continue." he said, turning on his heel. As an afterthought, he turned back to the Lieutenant.
"Give me your belt and pistol."
The Lieutenant raised his eyebrow slightly. "As you wish, Major," he replied. He dropped the belt from his waist and handed it to Delgado. Strapping it around his waist with short, jerky movements. Delgado strode back to the wall.
"Time is up, if you have something to say, say it!" he hissed. Obeying some inner sense of awareness, the doomed man made up his mind. He had nothing to tell this pig, Delgado. He knew that, if he had, Delgado would never hear it from his lips but yet, he did not intend to be denied one last act of defiance. He made his bid.
"Take my blindfold off. I will tell you everything," he said, hoping desperately that Delgado would, with his own selfish interests in mind, oblige him.
Delgado spit at his feet, stepped up before the roped figure and pulled his blindfold down so that it drooped around his chest over the ropes. The man squinted his eyes in the bright sun. He blinked them several times before he focused them on his executioner. He swallowed and opened his mouth.
"Major, I," he hesitated as Delgado's eyes bored through him.
"Speak, pig!" he rasped, his impatience getting the better of him. The man continued.
"Eduardo Morales," he said, then, motioning his head towards the man who was to die with him. he pleaded with his eyes.
"I don't want him to hear. Come close."
Delgado stepped forward, his face a mere four inches from the man's nose.
"Speak!" he repeated.
"SPITOOEYYY!"
"AGH!"
As Delgado waited for the man to whisper the names, he spit directly into his face. Delgado reeled back, thunderstruck. A big gob of green slime splattered all over his face. His face twisted into a mask of undiluted rage as he whipped his arm up and wiped at it frantically. The sound of the man spitting had reached the ears of the waiting line of riflemen and they turned to focus on the scene.
"YOU FILTHY PIG! SON OF A WHORE! YOUR MOTHER DRINKS THE PISS OF ALL THE MEN YOU HAVE MURDERED!" he bellowed, so that everyone heard.
Delgado, his eyes popping, the blood vessel pumping visibly at his temples, stood like a block of stone, rigid, unable to move. It was the last thing he had expected. As he stood, flabbergasted, the man spewed out another string of obscenities, reflecting on his ancestry.
"You are the fool, you bastard son of a whore's whore!" he cried. "That was what I wanted to tell you. Now you may shoot me."
Recovering his composure. Delgado whipped out his pistol and was about to shoot him on the spot, but instead he swung the butt of the weapon at the man's face catching just above the bridge of his nose. The man grunted in pain and a stream of blood gushed from the wound.
"I will have the pleasure of commanding your execution, scum, and it will be I who administers the coup de gras!" he hissed. The man, in spite of his wound, spit at him again but it fell short, landing a good foot away.
"Prepare to die, scum!" he retorted and with that, he turned about and strode up to the Lieutenant.
"I am taking over, stand aside."
The Lieutenant nodded. "As you wish, sir." he replied. He saluted and strode behind the line of riflemen and took up a station at the opposite end.
"Attention!" Delgado suddenly barked at the men and, as one, they obeyed.
"Ready!"
The front ranks, consisting of five soldiers, bent their left knees and shouldered their weapons. The line of standing men behind them remained standing and pointed their rifles. Suddenly, it seemed, everything was dead still, save for the buzzing of a lone bee as it ducked into the folds of a tulip.
"Aim!" The men bent their heads and sighted along the barrels of their guns.
At this point, Delgado deliberately prolonged the doomed men's agony. He stood ram-rod still at the end of the line and looked across the wavering line of rifle barrels. Then he turned his head to look at the two men bound to the stakes. He had neglected to put back the man's blindfold, but it was too late now. He had wasted too much of his time already. Staring directly at the man who insulted him, Delgado let a big grin spread over his lips and the one gold tooth he had glinted in the sun.
"FIRF!"
The line of rifle barrels jerked back and upward as ten explosions simultaneously rocked the courtyard. Bits of cloth, rope fibres and chips of stone flew into the air. Flesh, blood and bone splattered against the wall behind the bound figures as ten thirty calibre bullets tore through the bodies. Delgado watched as the two bodies slowly bent forward. The heads of both men hung low. There was no movement. He looked at the company.
"Shoulder arms!" he barked. The men snapped their rifles to their shoulders and Delgado turned them over to the officer in charge of the detail.
"Right face! Forward. MARCH!" the man cried and the line of men, rifles over their shoulders, marched out of the courtyard the way they had come, leaving Delgado alone. Unholstering the big .45 at his side, he started towards the two stakes. The early morning bee buzzed backward from the head of the flower and flew over the wall in a zigzag course for his hive.
As Delgado approached, he could see the effects of the bullets. The chests of both men were a sea of blood. It dripped from their shirts and spotted the ground at their feet. As he approached the one without the blindfold, he cocked his weapon. He stepped up to the inert figure.
"Well scum, who has the last laugh now?" he hissed. The man, obviously, was dead but Delgado, sadist that he was, sought to prolong his hate. He reached up and twisted the man's head backward, holding him by his hair. The man's face was the ash-grey color of death. Blood dripped from his mouth as Delgado shook his head from side to side.
"Well, what have you to say for yourself now, eh?" he cried. To his shock and amazement, the man twitched his lips slightly. He made a gurgling sound in his throat and with the last ounce of life in his soul, he made an attempt to spit at his murderer. The saliva mixed with blood barely cleared his lips as it fell to his feet.
"Wha?" Delgado opened his mouth in wonder but he couldn't speak. He was struck dumb at his enemy's defiance. Recovering his composure, he lifted his pistol and sent a bullet crashing into the man's skull, blowing out his brain. The man's head was spun to the right by the force of the bullet and then was still. Without moving from his position, he lifted the pistol and pointed it at the other one and shot.
The body lurched under the impact before hanging still. He bolstered his pistol and took a step backward. Standing directly in front of his protagonist, he lifted his boot and kicked bin. in the balls. This seemed to drain what hate was left in him for he turned and strode away only to be met by the stares of three men who had come to remove the bodies. They stood looking at the ground, embarrassed at having been witnesses. To shield his guilt, Delgado yelled at them.
"Well, what the hell are you standing around for? Get them out of here!" The three men saluted their superior officer before picking up the stretchers and heading for the far end of the courtyard. Delgado didn't return their salute. Wiping his arm across his mouth, he strode into the building just as the sun began its rise in the morning sky.
Once back in his office, he poured himself a stiff drink of brandy. He downed it in two gulps. The fact of the matter was that the morning's events had unnerved him. He kept thinking of the man he had just executed. To erase the image from his tortured mind, he sat down at his desk and filled a glass with gin.
He had just put it to his lips when the phone rang. Annoyed, he picked it up and shouted into the mouthpiece. "Well. What is it?"
"This is Lieutenant Tola. I have just been informed that the Vasquez girl has escaped!" The man's voice was squeaky and he sounded out of breath.
"IMPOSSIBLE!" Delgado shouted, the blood vessel beginning to show at his temple.
"I'm sorry, sir. but I've checked and she is gone," he replied.
"Stay where you are. I'm coming right down!" Delgado shouted and slamming the phone down, he bolted out the door for the dispensary.
By the time Delgado got to the dispensary, Felicia was sitting in a taxi, headed for the other side of town. She planned on leaving the taxi a good mile from her destination and then take a bus. She considered herself immensely fortunate. Her chances of getting out of the dispensary were extremely remote but she kept an astute eye out for any weakness in security. There were none. However, the guard outside the door to her room was a simple sort, overly solicitous, eager for intimacy and more than once she felt his hand on her thigh as he pretended to adjust the bedding. Felicia decided to use him.
At five o'clock, at about the time Delgado was attending the execution, she called to the guard. He opened the door a bit and slipped inside. She gave him a big smile and asked him for an extra blanket, saying that she felt the chill. Returning her smile, he closed the door. Felicia heard his footsteps as he walked down the hall. Now was the time!
Slipping quickly from her bed. she went to the door and peered out. No one in sight. She had to hurry for he would soon be back. The linen closet was located in the middle of the side corridor and it wouldn't take the guard long. She slipped across the hall and into the bathroom, closing the door silently behind her. Now the window. She pushed against it and it slid open.
Five feet below was a line of hedges which ran off to the left where they ended at an alleyway. She stood up on the toilet seat, put a leg out, gripped the upper molding and hauled her other leg up. Turning on her side she slid out, holding on by her fingers. As soon as she felt her feet touch the ground, she bent low behind the hedges and crept towards the alley. When she reached it, she stood up, assuming a natural stance and nonchalantly walked down the alley and out onto the street. Halfway down the block she spied a cab and hailed it.
It was as simple as that. It wasn't till she was safely ensconced in the back seat of the vehicle that she remembered two things. She had no shoes on her feet and she was without a peso. She had to decide on a destination. Playing it cool she gave the train station as her destination and settled back lost in thought. Suddenly, about half-way to her destination, the cab jerked to a stop. Felicia tensed.
"Why are we stopping, driver?" she asked, nervously.
"I am out of cigarettes, senorita, I'll be right back," he replied as he slid from behind the wheel. Felicia watched as he disappeared inside a drug store. Without a moment's hesitation, she opened the door and stepped out, walking hurriedly.
In a moment, she was lost in the bustling crowds of workers who swarmed about her like so much protective covering. She headed east towards her apartment and the stares of passerbys made her acutely aware of her bare feet. She had to do something. A woman walking around like that was about as subtle as a beacon tor airplanes. What to do? Ah! up ahead she spied a shoe store. She went inside and a man got up to greet her.
"Ah, madame. you are my first customer today. A pair of shoes, perhaps?" he purred as he looked down and saw her bare feet.
"Can you believe it? Can you believe that someone wrenched my shoes off while I was sitting on a park bench. The thief ran off before I could call for help," she cried. The man offered her his condolences. Felicia picked up a pair of white pumps, sat down and tried them on. At that moment, two ladies came in and sat down across the aisle.
"Excuse me, I will be back," he said and he went off to wait on the women. Felicia saw her chance. While the man had his back turned, busily engaged with the two women, she slipped quietly from the store. Walking quickly, she rounded the corner and kept going. As before, the crowds swallowed her up and she resumed a normal pace. The sun was visible in the morning sky and its warmth felt good as she sauntered down the street, eyes open for police cars. She felt sure they would be out searching the city and she had to get off the streets. Where to go? She didn't even have a dime for the telephone and she was being hunted by the police at this very moment!
Paul Devereau! His name popped into her head. An oasis in the desert! Electric with excitement, she turned right and headed towards his apartment. He lived on the west side of town and she calculated it would take her a good half hour to reach his apartment. She had no idea whether he would be at home but there was nothing else she could do. At least she had a destination and it gave her hope as she stepped up her pace.
Paul Devereau! Felicia suspected that he was very important on the revolutionary council. She heard his name mentioned many times by others in the movement but never connected with anything specific. As always in a revolutionary movement, each man's activities were deliberately kept vague. The more information any one man possessed, the more potentially dangerous he became in the event of capture. Nevertheless, Felicia made up her mind to tell him everything. Her life depended on his help.
Arriving at the apartment house, she mounted the stairway and knocked on number 16. She waited, her heart in her mouth. Suddenly the door opened a crack and a voice whispered. "Who is it?"
"Felicia. Felicia Vasquez. Please, let me in!" she hissed, glancing behind her. The door closed in her face and a moment later she heard the latch being pulled back. It opened again, halfway, and she stepped inside.
"Ah, senorita Vasquez, I had given you up for lost," he said, bolting the door and leading her into the small, two room apartment. It was apparent that he had been asleep when she knocked. His hair was disheveled and sleep was etched in his eyes.
"How did you know?" she asked as she took the seat he offered. She sat down and fixed him with a look of wonderment. He smiled and patted her shoulder, reassuringly.
"I hold a certain position in the, ah, movement. I usually know when one of our people is arrested. Now, you must tell me what happened and you must tell me quickly. We have very little time."
Felicia blurted out her story, leaving no detail untold. When she finished, he offered her a cigarette, which she declined, "I don't smoke anymore."
"It's just as well. Healthier." he said and laughed.
"Listen, Felicia. You know, of course, that you are in great danger. You will have to be hidden. It will be too late now to try for the mountains. Delgado is sure to have all roads blocked. The best tiling for us to do is to get you into hiding right away. But before I go any further. I have a surprise for you. Your friend and roommate is here. She came in last night on my orders. I felt it was too dangerous for her to remain at the old address any longer."
"Is she here now?" Felicia asked, excitedly. Paul nodded his head in the direction of the bedroom.
"She's inside, sleeping. I will awaken her. We must leave here right away," he said and he rose, disappearing into the other room. A moment or two later, he returned with Linda in tow. Both girls threw their arms around one another.
"THANK GOD, YOU'RE SAFE!" Linda cried, hugging her friend. Paul reluctantly brought them back to the present.
"Father Montevan awaits us at the Cathedral. I will escort you part of the way. I have some other business to attend to. The good Padre knows you are coming. Go and knock on the side door. He will let you in.
You arc to wait there until I arrive. We will plan our next moves from there. Hurry now, we must leave here at once," he warned and together they stood up and filed out the door.
Paul left the two girls three blocks from the Cathedral and turned north on his assignment. Without looking back, the two girls walked hurriedly towards the church. The padre let them in and ushered them to an underground room.
"You will be safe here. Excuse me now, but I have some duties to attend to," he said, somewhat apologetically, and he backed out of the room and closed the door. Both girls slumped down on a couch and drifted off to sleep.
Delgado, meanwhile, after discovering no trace of Felicia, put the guard under arrest and made plans for a city-wide search.
To assist him from this point on, he put an emergency call into higher headquarters for additional help.
"I need another officer!" he complained into the receiver. Before being cut off by the colonel to whom he was making his plea, he was told to order the extra man from the prison. Delgado thanked him curtly and hung up. He next contacted the prison and from a file card in his hand he asked for a Lieutenant Tola, a totally vicious and corrupt officer, very much like Delgado. When he got on the line, Delgado filled him in on his upcoming assignment. Tola seemed glad of the opportunity to get out of prison duty for a while.
"I would like permission to bring along my sergeant. Name is Cordova, very good man," he added. Delgado agreed and ordered them both to be at his office within the hour and hung up.
At exactly the appointed time. Lt. Tola, along with Sergeant Cordova, reported to Delgado. Both men sat down and he filled them in on his plans. When he finished, he asked for questions. There were none.
"Very good!" he said, standing up, "I have a detachment of men forming outside. We'll check Malabene's information. He's very reliable, a good spy, I have faith in his information. Let's go!"
CHAPTER V
The Major's black Buick screeched to a stop while, behind it, three jeeps, with armed soldiers simultaneously applied their brakes. The soldiers jumped from their vehicles and surrounded the house.
Major Delgado and Lieutenant Tola, pistols drawn and followed by five soldiers, dashed into the structure and raced up the two flights of stairs. They stopped to either side of the apartment door and motioned two of the soldiers in. With machine pistols at the ready, the soldiers ran through the apartment, searching everywhere. Major Delgado looked around in disgust.
"Gone! The filthy scum have flown the coop!" he swore in frustration.
The informer had done his job well. Not only had he directed the police to the cell leader's apartment but he had also revealed to them the true identity of Felicia Vasquez.
They had raced to the Vasquez apartment only to find their quarry gone. This was the second disappointment of the morning for Delgado and he seethed with anger. "Tola!" he yelled, looking around for his aide.
Lieutenant Tola walked out of the back bedroom where he had been inspecting the overturned bed. "Yes, Major!"
"I want you to detail two men to remain here until they are relieved. Put a corporal in charge of them. I want this entire apartment searched and all papers are to be boxed in cartons and brought to headquarters. The same procedure applies to the Vasquez place."
Tola went into the hall where he snapped a series of orders. "You two," he said, indicating two soldiers who were standing guard, "take a jeep and get back to the first address. The four of you will gather up everything in the place and have it brought in.
Understand?"
The two men snapped to and saluted before turning on their heels and dashing down the stairs, two at a time. The sound of four cylinders coughing to life mixed with the gnashing of gears as they sped away.
Delgado held a brief conference with his aide. "Question everybody in this house. You may be able to find out if someone was here and what time they left," he instructed him. Tola lost no time and decided to cover the top floor first.
Fifteen minutes later, the two officers conferred in the downstairs hallway. "Two young girls spent two days here and one of them fits the description of the Vasquez woman. The tenant does not know when they left. He works the night shift in a factory and was sound asleep since nine this evening," Tola briefed his boss.
"At nine?" Delgado asked, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.
"He reports to work at three."
Delgado snorted in disgust. "Come on. we're going back to the headquarters."
Tola followed him outside where they jumped into the back seat. The car came to life and roared off. Tola sensed his angry mood and kept silent. Delgado slumped in the corner and cursed his stupidity. Why had he let her go? BAH! he told himself, no sense brooding about one or two mistakes. How was he expected to recognize the daughter of a traitor?
Professor Miguel Armando De La Cordova had been out of the country for well over a year now. There were no known photographs of his only sibling. A minor problem that he would solve as soon as they got back to headquarters. Ah! A better idea!
"Driver!" He leaned forward and gave the driver Felicia's address. "Step on it!" he commanded. The car lurched ahead, picking up speed. They pulled up in front of the house. Delgado leaned out the side window, motioning the guard on duty. "Go and bring me every photograph in that apartment. Hurry!"
In a few minutes the guard returned and thrust a folder into the back seat. The car lurched off into the night. "Now I want you to get this done right away, Tola." he said, as they entered headquarters. He stopped before the elevator and rifled through the pile of photos. He selected a relatively new photo of Felicia and added Linda's along with it. "Take these to the photo lab and have them blown up to twelve by fifteen. I want two thousand of each printed up right away. They will be distributed all over the city first thing in the morning. I want them posted on every trolley, in every restaurant window, public phone booth and railway station. I shall furnish you with a complete list of locations before the night is out."
Tola gave a half salute and started for the main elevator. "Tola!" he called after him, "When you get through, come to my office, we still have a bit of unfinished business to attend to." Tola nodded and stepped into the elevator.
Delgado went to the small elevator at the end of the hall and took it down to the lower floor. He fished his keys out and went inside. "Send in Antonio Malabene!" he barked into the receiver. He set it in its cradle, leaned back and appraised the situation.
Malabene, the informer, had done very well. Although he had lost Mako, he now knew the identity of two suspects and he was sure he would catch them in a dragnet. He reached for the bottle and poured himself a glass of wine.
Malabene entered and he motioned him to a chair. "You have done well, Antonio," he greeted the spy. Malabene smiled and thanked him. "A glass of wine to celebrate." Delgado poured another glass and set the bottle down. "To our success!"
"To our success!" Malabene repeated and they drained their glasses.
"Ah good!" Delgado said as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Malabene lit a cigarette and waited. "Now then, Antonio, I have yet another mission for your particular talents," he began. Malabene smiled. "Your usefulness as far as the underground is concerned has been terminated. Thanks to your work, we now know the identity of the most important cell leader and I have no doubt he will soon be caught. Right now. however, you will be put to work right here."
Antonio frowned. "Here? What do you mean?"
"I mean," Delgado leaned forward, "that you will be thrown in with a suspect we are now holding in maximum security. He was picked up last night in a raid. We know that he is a member of the underground and, if you do your job well, you may perhaps convince him that you are congenial spirits. Work on him. Get every scrap of information that you can."
"When?" lie asked.
"Right now." Delgado coolly replied.
Sergeant Cordova was summoned and gave the particulars of the suspect's arrest and the area where he had been picked up. Malabene was quickly put in with the suspect, the bars slammed shut, and Cordova returned to his duties. An hour later, Delgado was still bent over the tape recorder following their small talk which was being relayed by a hidden microphone. Lieutenant Tola was at his side.
Suddenly both men tensed as the suspect let drop a name. Padre Monteven, a clergyman sympathetic to the underground, the suspect stated, before he realized his slip.
From that moment on, the suspect's suspicions about his new cellmate caused him to clam up and Antonio couldn't get another word out of him.
Delgado made up his mind. "We've got to work on this one. Tola. We must find out more about this Padre Montevan. Have the suspect taken to the interrogation room. I shall be down in a few moments."
Tola responded with alacrity. Delgado buzzed him out and pondered the situation. He knew it would be a simple matter to locate the clergyman. Headquarters kept an up-to-date file on the entire clergy and it would furnish not only the pastor, but his house of worship as well. He buzzed the records department and gave the man on duty the padre's name. In a few minutes he was given the information he had requested. He folded the sheet of paper he had written the information on and slipped it into his breast pocket, before leaving. He had a hunch and he knew he must move fast if it was to bear fruit.
The prisoner who had divulged the padre's name was stretched out on the floor of the Interrogation Room. He had been stripped naked and lay bound, hand and foot, spread-eagle fashion. He was in his twenties and he looked tough.
Delgado strode in and stopped short, sending his toe sailing into the victim's ribs. He let out a horrible scream. In the room, standing around, were Tola, Malabene and Sgt. Cordova.
"All right, you pig, that's just a sample of what you will get if you choose to delay this investigation." The prisoner groaned in pain.
"Who is this Padre Montevan?" he asked.
"I don't know," the man groaned.
"Hand me a whip!" Delgado barked.
Cordova handed him a whip.
"WHO IS HE?" he demanded.
"I don't know, I tell you!"
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Delgado lashed him viciously three times across his back, the knotted whip raising ugly bruises. The man screamed like an animal. "WHO IS HE!" he shouted again.
"He, he has a small parish here in the city. I don't know which one. I only heard that his sympathies are with the rebels."
"I already know that, you fool!"
The prisoner looked up at him, fear showing in his eyes.
"This Padre Montevan must perform some duties for them and I think you know more about those duties than you are telling me. Well, my friend, I am going to show you what we do to uncooperative guests," and so saying he instructed Sgt. Cordova to ready the machine. In a few moments Cordova had wheeled into the center of the room a field telephone device with a crank handle on one side. Cordova plugged a few wires into sockets and turned a dial. Satisfied that it was functioning, he took two of the wires and attached them, by means of clips, to the man's balls. He stepped back and waited for the signal. Delgado nodded and the Sergeant cranked the handle.
The man screamed as the charge of electricity jolted his genitals, causing his prick to stand up, vibrating with the current.
He waited a moment while the man regained control of his senses. The pain was excruciating and he twitched in his bonds. Delgado watched him, a smile on his lips. "Well now, my friend, are you ready to talk now?"
"Please! I don't know any more. You are wasting your time, believe me!"
"You lie!" Delgado screamed.
"NO! PLEASE BELIEVE ME!" he pleaded, but Delgado kept his money on his hunch. "Give him some more!" Cordova obliged, sending the man's prick up with another charge. He screamed an ungodly wail as the current continued coursing through his balls. Then he passed out.
"Wake him!" Delgado barked as the Sergeant began to shake the man by the shoulders. He came around slowly and gradually opened his eyes. "I will ask you one more time," Delgado hissed.
"NO! I DON'T KNOW ANY MORE! PLEASE BELIEVE ME!" he begged.
"Turn it on and leave it on!" he barked at the Sergeant. Cordova threw the switch but nothing happened. He (licked it again and still nothing happened. Delgado scowled. "What is wrong?" he demanded.
"I do not know, Major, we've been having some trouble with it on and off for some time now," Cordova explained apologetically.
Delgado cursed. "Get it out of here. Get it fixed. MOVE!"
Cordova quickly wrapped the electrodes around the machine and wheeled it out of the room.
"Don't worry, my friend," he hissed, looking down at his victim, "I have other means with which to entertain your stubbornness. You will see." He looked at Tola and indicated the whips on the wall. Tola returned and handed him a black one about two feet long with a fifteen inch wooden handle attached to its other end.
Tola picked up the knotted whip Delgado had put down and both men took up stances over their victim, face down on the cold stone tloor. Delgado threw his arm back, Tola joined his motion, and they brought their whips down across the man's buttocks and thighs. CRACK! Each crack of the whips as they hissed through the air was accompanied by agonizing screams as the victim twisted in his bonds, his buttocks pulsating under the leather.
Delgado rested a moment and bid Ids Lieutenant to continue. "Tickle his balls a few times. Maybe that will loosen his tongue." Tola raised his knotted whip and brought it down against the victim's balls as he uttered a blood-curdling scream. "Again!" Delgado commanded, and again Tola whipped his balls viciously, his hearing drowned out by the screams. "Now! You bastard, are you going to talk?"
The victim was unable to answer, having passed out again.
CHAPTER VI
At Delgado's direction, Tola went to a side wall and filled a bucket full to the brim with cold water. He brought it back and dumped the contents on the unconscious form. The cold water revived him and he sputtered back to consciousness. At that moment, Sergeant Cordova entered.
"Ah, just in time, Cordova. Haul this miserable creature to his feet and hang him from the rafters by his wrists!"
Cordova did as he was told.
"Now you may get back to your duties," Delgado suggested.
Cordova nodded and left, closing the massive door behind him. The two officers were alone again with their victim and a diabolical glint blazed in Delgado's eyes.
""Well, what have you in mind. Tola?" he asked ominously, eyeing the prisoner.
"Ah! I have just the thing for our guest. Major." He called the Supply Department and ordered a quart jar of alcohol to be sent down immediately.
Delgado watched with amusement as Tola lowered the rope some three feet so that the victim was in a position for what was to follow. Next, he went to the far wall and hauled a small heavy table over to the man in the ropes. He shoved it up against his waist and pulled him forward so that he was positioned at a right angle to the floor. He took a short piece of rope and secured it about the victim's wrists and tied his hands to the table. He stepped back and grinned maliciously.
A loud knock on the heavy door diverted his attention. "Come in!" he barked.
"Here is the alcohol you ordered, sir!" the Corporal said, and handed the jar to Tola.
Tola smiled evilly, and then opened a cabinet and withdrew a piece of rubber hose which he flexed in his hands as he approached the bound prisoner. It was about fifteen inches long and almost an inch and a half in diameter. He stood behind the man and rapped him across his already blistered buttocks with it. "When I am through with you, you will know what pain is all about." he threatened, his voice cold and emotionless.
The prisoner could only groan, protesting: feebly as Tola taunted him.
"Now watch this," Tola requested as he picked up the jar of alcohol. He unscrewed the cap and, holding the rubber trunchion in one hand, he poured about an ounce of the fluid over its length, setting the bottle down and capping it.
Next, he stepped up behind the victim whose buttocks, swollen and purple from the beating they had given him earlier, lay temptingly before him. Using the fingers of his right hand, he spread the man's cheeks and inserted the tip of the rubber hose into the man's asshole. He twisted and screamed as Tola forced it up into his ass.
Tola worked vigorously and forced the trunchion all the way in between his buttocks. "It doesn't hurt that much, my friend," he retorted, his victim's screams ringing in his ears.
Delgado was all eyes. He could see that Tola had jammed all but six inches up the prisoner's asshole. Actually, although neither man cared to admit or even think about it. the scene was totally sexual. Both sadists were enjoying themselves and gained a sexual thrill by their torments on a victim whether the person was male or female.
All that Delgado could see from where he stood was Tola's fist between the victim's cheeks. Then, a new twist. Tola began forcing the big rubber trunchion in and out, slowly at first, while the victim wailed in pain as the alcohol-dipped trunchion forced its way in and out, stretching the muscles of his asshole.
"Ah, you are a genius. Tola!" Delgado exclaimed as he watched intently.
"This is merely the beginning. Major, merely the beginning," Tola replied, still ramming the trunchion in and out of his ass-hole. Delgado watched in a sexual frenzy as Tola rammed it in and out faster and faster, as the victim filled the room with screams.
"Harder! Give it to him harder!" Delgado screamed. Tola's fist was almost a blur of speed as he reamed it in and out between the man's twitching buttocks.
He withdrew it completely with one swift motion and the victim almost passed out from the shock as it popped out of his ass. "Keep it in! Keep it in!" Delgado urged him excitedly as he felt the first wave of sexual orgasm coursing through his body.
Tola swiftly resoaked the trunchion in alcohol again and shoved it up into his ass again, eliciting another howl of agony from his victim as he twisted and reamed it in and out from side to side. The victim's balls jounced up and down as Tola's fist worked the trunchion rapidly. They were swollen black and blue from the beating Tola had given him.
Delgado came over and noticed that the prisoner had a hard-on. Delgado took his hand and judo-chopped it with one swift motion. The victim screamed as his prick did a nose dive. Delgado was beside himself with sadistic passion as he watched the torture.
"Let me have it!" he whispered as he grabbed the end of the trunchion from Tola's fist and popped it out of the victim's ass. Tola stepped back and watched his boss take up where he left off. Delgado soaked the trunchion with the alcohol and shoved it up the victim's hole again. His eyes were on fire as he grasped the man's buttocks with his left hand and pumped away with his right.
Tola moved back and sat down, breathing heavily from his exertions. As Delgado pumped away behind the victim he saw again that the man had a hard-on, despite his pain. The sight of it sent him into a frenzy and he pumped in and out with all the speed he could muster. With every movement of the trunchion, the victim screamed horribly, his ass-hole on fire from the effects of the alcohol.
The phone suddenly rang but Delgado gave no sign of hearing it. so completely engrossed was he with his victim. Tola answered it. "Just one moment! Telephone for you!" he yelled, over the victim's screams. Delgado kept pumping away at his struggling victim.
"Who is it?" he called over his shoulder, his fist never missing a beat.
"Security has picked up a suspect."
"Tell them to bring the suspect at once!"
Tola relayed the orders and hung up.
Apparently Delgado's moment of frenzy suddenly abated for he stepped back and watched as the trunchion slowly popped out of the victim's ass-hole. The prisoner groaned, his voice hoarse and feeble. The trunchion dropped to the floor as Delgado let out a long sigh.
"This calls for a drink. Major," Tola said as he produced a bottle of wine from the drawer in the desk and poured a glass for himself and one for Delgado.
"You know," he said, wiping his mouth on his hand, "you might just turn out to be a good interrogator. Tola. With a little practice you might become, shall we say, proficient at it."
"I shall certainly do my best. Major," he replied.
"You will have the opportunity to show me just how good you think you are at this sort of thing when the next prisoner is brought in. I shall leave the entire job in your hands."
At that moment, a buzzer rang in the room. Delgado went to the door and opened it to allow two soldiers to enter with a woman prisoner. They shoved her into the room as Delgado went outside the door with them and conferred in whispers for a few moments. He came back inside and bolted the door.
The woman looked at the suspect tied face down over the table and shuddered with fear.
"Is this your first visit to a torture chamber, my dear?" Tola asked, eyeing her full figure. She could only look at him, wide-eyed with anxiety. "Do you have any idea what it is I want you to do, my dear?" Tola asked her. She looked at him and shook her head.
Without saying another word. Tola took three steps and picked up the knotted whip. He raised it and swished it once through the air. "With this instrument I can peel the skin off your back and not even raise a sweat." The woman was becoming more uneasy and fear widened her eyes.
Tola let his eyes run slowly over the curves of her figure as he toyed with the whip. "By law, you know." he told her, "I can torture you and have you executed by a firing squad. However, the thought of executing someone as beautiful as you, even though you are a rebel, is somewhat distasteful to my aesthetic nature, therefore, my dear lady, I am going to give you the power over your own destiny, here and now."
She fidgeted, her eyes darting from Tola to Delgado. Both men stood staring and the silence following Tola's words was deafening save for a few low moans from the man tied over the table.
"What is your name, my dear'?" Tola continued.
"Rita Mueva," she answered in a hushed voice.
"Well, Rita, here is my offer. I want you to take this whip and use it on that fellow over there."
She turned her head slightly and looked at the spectacle as she struggled to find the words. "I, I can't. I couldn't."
"Do you mean to tell me that you haven't the stomach to whip a man but you would rather face a firing squad instead'?"
Delgado let a half smile flicker across his lips as he silently applauded Tola's technique. He drained his glass and refilled it, never taking his eyes from the scene. Tola looked at the woman all the while tapping the whip against his leg.
"Perhaps she needs a drink. Tola. Here." He walked to the frightened woman and handed her a glass of wine. She shook her head negatively. "Drink it!" Delgado commanded, thrusting the glass into her hand. She took it and put it to her lips, taking a small sip.
"Drink it all. Right now!" Tola barked. "Please. I don't drink. It makes me sick," she stammered, holding the glass in front of her.
"Perhaps you would like to die instead, my dear." Tola went on. his voice a dangerous purr.
He put the whip down on the table and unholstered his pistol, a big Spanish .38. He spun the chamber and made a show of emptying the chamber of five of its six shells. He then lay the bullets on the table and faced her, gun in hand. "Perhaps you would like to play a little game instead, eh?"
She shrunk back a few steps as Tola approached her, the pistol pointed at her head. .
"Have you ever heard of Russian Roulette?" he asked, looking down into her frightened eyes. "It's a little game which is supposed to have originated in Russia. It's very simple. You leave one bullet in the chamber, spin it. place it to your temple and pull the trigger. You have odds of six to one. If you are lucky, you live, if not. well, your brains get splattered all over the floor, not a very pretty picture."
He stood holding the pistol and spun the chamber again. The woman looked at him in horror as he pointed it at her head and brought the barrel up, pressing it to her temple. She shuddered as she felt the cold steel touch her skin. Tola spun it again and pulled the trigger. She turned white as a ghost at the hard metallic sound. Delgado was a study of intense concentration as he savored the effect of his aide's diabolical sadism.
Tola suddenly laughed insanely. "Ah! You are lucky this time. Maybe next time you will not be so lucky, ehhh?"
"Please!" She tried to find her voice to speak but raw terror had her in its icy grip and she stood transfixed to the spot. Tola raised the pistol again and pointed it at the center of her forehead. "Click you live! Bang you die!" he yelled, laughing insanely.
He spun the chamber again. "Click!"
She closed her eyes and looked as though she were going to faint. Tola laughed uproariously. "Click! You are still alive! Do you realize that each time you survive a pull of the trigger, the odds against you are doubled?"
Delgado yelled at her. "Drink the wine or I shall deal with you without the benefit of any odds!" She trembled and put the glass to her lips, taking another sip. "I said, drink it alU" he screamed at her again. She raised the glass and drained it. "Come here!" Delgado ordered her. She went over and stood before him. He lifted the bottle and refilled the glass. "Co on," he said, motioning her to return to where Tola was standing.
She stood in front of him and watched as he spun the chamber, preparing to play another round. "Well, my dear." he purred softly, "have you reconsidered, or do you wish to try it again?"
The strain began to tell on her nerves. She swallowed hard, trying to find the words to end it before it was too late. "Please, no more! I can't stand it! Please!"
A big grin spread over Tola's face. "Ha! You suddenly do not care for the odds, eh? Well, maybe I'm not finished playing our little game, how do you like that, eh? Once more, my dear, just once more, perhaps?" He laughed at her helplessness, grinning evilly.
"No! No more, please! No more."
Tola held the pistol and spun the chamber. In one swift movement he raised his arm and pulled the trigger again.
Click! The chamber was empty.
She blanched with fear as the horrible sound echoed through the room.
"Very well, my dear," he smiled, putting the pistol back in its holster, "you Will finish your wine and begin NOW!"
The terrified woman lifted the glass to her lips and drank half of it. "Drink it all!" Tola hissed, impatient for the proceedings to begin. She raised it again and drained it completely, wincing as she swallowed.
Tola pointed to the whip lying on the table. "You know what to do. Do it!"
She looked at both men.
"Go on!" Delgado broke in. She took another step and looked down at the wicked-looking instrument.
"Pick it Lip!" Tola urged her, his voice rising.
She reached down and picked it up, delicately.
"Now," Tola barked, "I want you to go over there and whip the balls off him!" She hesitated.
"GO! GO! GO!" he yelled, slamming his fist down on the rickety table.
She took the whip and walked stiffly to a point behind the victim. She halted a few feet away and glanced around at Tola. They watched as she raised the whip and brought it down lightly across the prisoner's back.
"Harder!" Delgado broke in. She brought it clown again; this time a little more force was used.
"That is not the way to whip a man!" Tola shouted at her. She brought the whip down again a little harder.
"Look!" he interjected, walking to where she stood. "This man is a murderer. Do you know what he did?"
She stood holding the whip as Tola continued. "This pig was responsible for the brutal killings of six people, three of them were mere babies. The other three were women. And do you know how he killed them? Let me give you the details. He cut the throats of the infants, he lied, and then he shoved their mutilated bodies into a furnace. Can you imagine such a tiring? The rest isn't so pretty either, my dear. As for the women, all were found in their beds. They had been raped, stabbed all over their bodies, and each of them was brutally disembowelled. The man does not deserve to live. In ten days he will be placed before a firing squad, a punishment too good for his kind."
CHAPTER VII
The woman listened as Tola fed her the faked story. If her life had not depended on it, she would have been inclined not to believe what he told her, but her life was squarely on the line and, after a few moments of thought, she decided it would make her ordeal easier to bear if she believed what Tola had said. She made up her mind and looked Tola in the eye.
"If that is the case, then I will gladly do it," she announced, her voice sounding strangely flat and emotionless.
Tola was ecstatic and beamed his approval. "Good! Now you are being sensible," he gloated. "Use the whip with all your might and do not stop until I order you to stop." He turned and left her standing there holding the wldp in her right hand.
The prisoner made an effort and turned his head slightly, trying to see her but his bonds prevented it. He opened his mouth and cursed. "He is lying to you! Do not believe him! I am innocent! I am not a murderer!"
She hesitated a moment as he spoke. Tola saw what was happening and moved to stifle her compassion. "Of course he will lie. All killers do. Pay no heed to such pleas and get on with the business. Now!"
She raised the whip and brought it down with all her might as the man screamed in pain. She glanced around at the two men behind her, as if she were looking for a sign of approval.
"Don't stop!" Delgado commanded her, angrily.
Again the whip came down, swishing through the air. The man howled in pain as the woman whipped him with all the strength she could muster.
Delgado and Tola leaned forward, their eyes glazed as they devoured the scene. She stopped momentarily in order to better position herself behind the helpless victim, who squirmed in his bonds. She spread her feet wide and delivered another series of vicious lashes to the prisoner's already bruised hide, causing him to jerk against his bonds as the whip landed against his balls.
"More! More! Whip the balls off him!" they both shouted as she administered the lashes to the screaming victim.
As she whipped him, she couldn't help but notice his prick getting hard and the sight of it drove her to whip him harder as she thought of the atrocities he had committed against helpless women and children. After perhaps thirty lashes, her arm grew tired and the blows were becoming less effective. She stopped again in order to rest her arm.
Tola saw what was happening and leaped up, a strange glint in his eyes. "Here," he said, his voice hoarse, "use this."
He took the whip from her hand and thrust the rubber trunchion into her hand. "Stick this into him. You know, like a man does to a woman," he whispered into her ear. As a clincher, he added menacingly: "It's either you or him, my dear."
She took the rubber instrument from him and looked at it. She seemed to waver for a moment as she looked down at the man's buttocks, invitingly propped up before her. Tola strode back to his place beside Delgado and they both watched as if holding their breaths in anticipation.
The woman gripped the trunchion in her right hand and smacked it across the victim's buttocks. Her own sadistic impulses had been aroused and she gave in to them with complete abandon. As the man groaned in pain, pleading for mercy, she spread his buttocks and began to jam the blunt end of it into his anus. He screamed as he sensed what she was up to.
"Use the alcohol!" Tola commanded, from where he sat watching the proceedings. She looked around, uncomprehendingly. "There-on the table-pour some of it over the rubber," Tola instructed her. She looked down and spied the bottle. She unscrewed the cap and poured a liberal amount over the trunchion.
"No! No! No more! Please, no more!" the man screamed over his shoulder.
At this point she was beyond showing any pity. She had really convinced herself that the man was, indeed, guilty of the crimes Tola had accused him of. With the trunchion covered with alcohol, she took her left hand, spretid his cheeks and began, once again, to force it into his ass-hole. He screamed a blood-curdling scream as he felt the alcohol burning his tender ass.
She bent over his form and diligently worked the trunchion deep into his behind as he screamed for mercy. She watched as it slid into the hole, the muscle slipping around the thick shaft of the rubber tool. She watched it stretch as she thrust it in to the hilt. Then, very slowly, she began thrusting it in and out of his tortured ass-hole.
"Faster! Faster!" Delgado urged, excitedly, saliva drooling from his lips.
She thrust it in and out faster and faster as the victim screamed himself hoarse. Her arm moved back and forth between the cheeks of his ass-hole like a piston gone wild. Her eyes bulged as she sought to literally ream the shit out of him.
Delgado suddenly caught a glimpse of the victim's rigid cock and whispered to Tola. Tola nodded and went over to the woman, his own cock hard in his pants. He pulled her aside and whispered something in her ear. She nodded assent, turning back to her victim.
Reaching down with her left hand, she grasped his balls and kneaded them roughly, causing the victim to scream anew as she pulled on his already swollen balls. She squeezed them into her fist, twisting them from side to side between his legs. Suddenly the victim passed out from the pain. She straightened up and stared down at the still form.
Tola cued her next move. "Throw some water on him. Wake him up!" He pointed to the corner where the bucket lay by the sink. She went over, filled it half-way, brought it back and doused the inert form with it. Tire victim twitched slightly as the cold water cascaded over his bruised body.
He groaned hoarsely as the rubber tool popped out of his ass-hole, falling to the floor. She picked it up and brought it to the sink where she washed it clean. Delgado and Tola sat as though mesmerized by the scene. Their mouths were opened slightly and they literally panted for air.
The woman began to get the same kind of feeling. Of course, she wouldn't admit it to herself but she perceived in a moment of self-realization that she was actually enjoying the torture. Delgado and Tola sensed the change that came over her and urged her on.
"Give it to him, Rita!" Tola croaked. "Give it to him good!"
She realized her own enjoyment was parallel to theirs and she began beating the victim about the head with the trunchion. She brought it down on his head and shoulders a dozen times, each blow landing with a dull thud.
"Whip him! Whip the bastard!" Delgado screamed.
She obeyed instantly, picking it up and lashing the man's buttocks with the knotted instrument.
"Please! Agggh! No more!"
He screamed again and again as she whipped him with all her might. Blood began to flow as she slashed a particularly vicious blow across his back. As it streamed down, dripping over his sides, Delgado let out a hushed groan and came all over himself in a psychosexual orgasm.
Tola's eyes were ablaze as he watched and soon, he, too, reached Ids orgasm. Both men lay back on the couch and moaned in pleasure as Rita reached down with her hand and roughly jerked the victim off. She watched as her hand pulled his stiff cock, causing the victim to spurt a load of come onto the table.
Satisfied that she was giving them a good show for her life, Rita again took up the trunchion and shoved it deep into his torn ass-hole. She rammed it in deep before letting go and picking up the whip. She stood directly behind the bent over figure, took careful aim and brought the whip down with all her might so that it whistled through the air, landing smack against his swollen balls.
She was like a demon as she flailed away at him, covering his body with weals and stripes which soon began to bleed copiously. Blood from his torn and lacerated flesh began to splatter all over the floor and table. The whip was covered with it and she herself soon became spattered with it, all the time flailing away.
Neither man knew how long she would have kept at it had they not decided to put an end to the business. Both men had achieved their own ends during the spectacle and were now coming down from their peaks of lust.
Delgado rearranged his uniform and approached her as she prepared to strike another blow. He stopped behind her and watched as she delivered another stroke. The victim moaned an animal-like sound as she threw the whip back over her shoulder. preparing to whip him again. Delgado grasped the knotted whip and jerked it out of her hands. She spun around in surprise as he took it from her.
"That is enough!" he told her. "Now it is your turn, my pretty!"
She shrank back, her eyes growing wider as she sensed the ultimate tragedy which was about to befall her lot.
"Tola!" he called over his shoulder, never taking his eyes from her. "You can have him now."
She watched as Tola stood up and stripped his clothes off. He stepped out of his pants, exposing his hard-on to her gaze.
Delgado grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her to her knees in front of the tortured suspect who looked at her through pain-seared eyes. "You may have the pleasure of seeing your tormentor," he snarled at him.
Rita drew back and turned her head. Delgado grabbed her roughly by the hair and forced her to look at the man she had just spent two hours torturing.
He said nothing as he watched her, his eyes half closed.
CHAPTER VIII
Delgado put down the whip and reached down, ripping the woman's clothes from her back. She fell over on her side as he ripped off her bra and panties. She had a lush body and the swatch between her legs was a tempting sight. Delgado unzipped his fly and ordered her to take it out. She hesitated and he pulled his pistol from its holster and cocked it, pointing it directly at her head.
"Take it out and suck it!" he commanded.
She moved slowly and unzipped his fly the rest of the way down and slowly slipped her hand into Ids pants. She fumbled around and withdrew his limp dick, sticky from his last orgasm. She held it in her hand, stalling. "Suck it!" he yelled.
She swallowed, licked her lips and opened her mouth as she guided his meat between her lips.
The only sound in the room was a mixture of deep breathing as she sucked Delgado's cock. She used both hands and bobbed her head up and down on his shaft as it began to grow hard and long. Tola stood to the side, massaging his own stiff tool as he watched. The three of them watched as Delgado sagged slightly, the first waves of orgasm building up in his balls. As it approached he slipped his pistol into its holster and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her head back and forth along his shaft.
"Suck me off! Suck me off! I'm coming! I'm coming!" he moaned with pleasure as he shot a full load of his hot cream into her mouth.
She gagged as she swallowed his fluid, some of it dribbling over her lips. She knelt in front of him, his prick beginning to go soft in her mouth. He moved his hips back and his dick slipped from between her lips. She wiped lrer mouth and glanced up to see a sight which shocked her senses.
Tola was standing behind the prisoner and he gripped the bound victim by the hips as he fucked him in the ass. The prisoner groaned as Tola slammed his prick in and out of his ass with rapid motions. Delgado dragged Rita by the hair so that she could get a close-up view of the proceedings. Tola continued pumping away, causing his victim to utter little groans of pain and pleasure.
"You seem to like what you see," Delgado teased her, as she watched.
Tola kept pumping away, his eyes closed, his hips thrusting back and forth as his passion mounted with every movement. As she watched, he came, a groan escaping from his lips.
As he finished his orgasm. Tola fell across the bloody back of the prisoner, smearing himself in his blood as Rita and Delgado watched. In a few moments, Tola got his strength back and he raised himself from the victim. Delgado gripped her by the hair and turned her so that she faced Tola.
"Suck him off!" he commanded her.
She winced and begged him, saying that it was unclean.
"Suck him off!" he yelled again.
Tola stepped up to her and hefted his half-hard prick in his hand. He slapped it gently against her lips. She smelled the shit and come-smeared cock before he thrust it between her lips. Seeing that it was inevitable, she bent to her task and sucked his prick for fifteen minutes till at last he came again.
"Now suck the prisoner's ass!" Tola ordered, as Delgado forced her head between the man's buttocks.
"Lick it! Suck it!" Delgado chimed in, and again she winced and did as she was ordered, her tongue thrusting in and out of his ass-hole like a snake. She pulled away finally and blood was smeared all over her face and hands.
As she sat back on her heels, the two men standing over her, a buzzer rang. Tola stepped quickly to the side and began dressing hurriedly. Delgado zipped up his fly and walked to the door.
"What do you want?" he demanded through the locked door.
"We have located the fugitives, Major!" Cordova's voice was heard dimly through the massive door.
"I shall be in my office in five minutes!" he yelled through the door, and came back to the center of the room. Tola was about dressed as he bent down and pulled on his boots. Delgado went over to him and whispered something into his ear.
"I will await you in my office. We may be on to something. They have located the Vasquez girl." He stopped and looked around at the two prisoners. Rita was still on her knees where they had left her.
"As soon as I am gone," he whispered, "shoot them both. I will make arrangements to have their bodies burned in the incinerator." Tola nodded, a smile flushing over his face as he anticipated the job he enjoyed doing.
"Will you be needing me, Major?"
"Of course! Why?" Delgado asked in surprise.
He waved Ids hand flaggingly at the two prisoners. "I like to take my time, you know. Since you gave me the go ahead to finish them off. Major, it is my wish you let me do it in my own style."
"Forget it, Tola, if it takes too long to get rid of them in your own style," Delgado mockingly gestured with his hands. "We have business at another place. More important than your desire to freak out!" He was gone before Tola could answer.
When the cell door was shut, Tola felt safely alone for the first time since he commanded Rita to beat the balls off the subjugated prisoner. He wanted throughout the entire scene to take part. But Major's presence prevented him from revealing how he truly felt. Even the act of fucking the luscious ass was more than he thought he could do with anyone watching.
"Rita, my dear." he hissed, with eyes larger than kind expressions, "I have a job for you. It will serve the state. You have been so cooperative. We will not forget you. I want you to mount the table. Lay over the murderer, cover him with your body; put your arms out over his and lay over him exactly the way he is tied to the table."
The leer in the expression of his mouth was faultless. He had more in mind than Rita would guess possible. She believed him. She had helped! Why shouldn't she do as he commanded!
She got on the table, facing the back of the man's sweaty neck, moving her hips down to measure them into his open thighs. It wasn't easy. The man was much taller, and pulled out the way he was, made him appear longer.
But her cunt was well fixed between his ass. She could feel the heat as she placed herself down between his legs. Her arms only half-reached up to where he was bound by the ropes that held him down.
Tola pushed Rita into the spot that met his design, before he proceeded to tie the hanging rope ends that hung from the man's arms to her wrists. He wanted her as much of a slave to his whim as the prisoner had been. Once he finished the knots around her arms, he stepped back, proud of the sight that made him piss, with a hard-on, directly at the naked bodies of a man and a woman, wholly captured and defenseless.
"I'm going to fuck you both! Right now."
He got up on the table, hanging half off. with his legs dangling. "This is pure eroticism for me. My cock sticking your cunt from behind, and my fucking balls pushing against his nuts and your pussy!"
Tola aimed his cock quickly at the underpart of Rita's cunt, pushing fast and grabbing her hair, pulling her face from the man's wet neck.
"Take this prick, you slave-cunt! You sucked the ass that's about to be fucked again. Feel this giant prick wacker up your slut cunt! I'm going to fuck you until my stiff prick is wet enough to slip it out of your pussy-hole and into his asshole."
Tola fucked violently at the opening, holding Rita's head up, kissing her lips.
The prisoner was silent, except for the grunts he could manage each time he was able to breathe.
"How's that cock up your twat, baby? Feel it flushed between your legs? What's it like, fucking you while you lay spread on a man who has a hard-on and can't fuck you?"
Tola knew more than they did. He knew that Rita's cunt would never know another man. The thought almost brought him to an orgasm.
"Lift your ass. Come up to this cock! I want to put it all the way in. Remember, we have to wet all this man-prick before I can fuck that ass you sucked," he murmured.
"You did suck his ass. You sucked the come out of it, with the blood mixed in." Tola talked into her ear as he fucked with faster pushes, ramming the spread opening without care for any feeling but his own.
"Take this dick deeper," he said, lifting her hips off the man's ass.
Rita moved with the hands forcing her up.
The ropes around her arms and ankles tightened deep in the skin. She could feel the circulation stop and swell around her roped legs and arms.
"Oh! Please, sir," she pleaded.
"Oh! shut the fuck up, you bitch," he said, grabbing her mouth with one hand, holding it over her face to prevent her from talking.
"You talk when the fucking is good, remember?"
Tola didn't want to hear her voice, anyway. He knew he was going to kill her. She'd never have another cock up her cunt.
"Just get your pussy on this fucking cock," he said, reaching around to pull the man's face towards them as he fucked.
"Get a look at this, you murderer, I'm fucking her on top of you. Can't you feel this prick banging her cunt-hole?"
The prisoner only moved his eyes. The weight of the two bodies on top of him prevented him from talking.
Tola held his head back far enough for him to see, for the first time, the mouth of the woman who beat him with a whip and buggered him with the awful truncheon.
"Why do we have to be roped together, sir?" Rita pleaded, with short breathing.
"Because I'm boss here, now, and I want you both like this. You'll see."
Tola let go of Rita's head, while he held the man's face by the forehead.
"Kiss him, Rita. Go ahead and kiss him. You'll have a lot in common to talk about when this is over."
Her face was near the man's mouth. She only slightly brushed his lips when she found his mouth open, struggling for attention.
"Kiss him," Tola demanded, pushing Rita's face into the waiting lips.
"I, I think I love him!"
"You what?"
"I think I am in love with your prisoner. I will do whatever you ask me, but please, let me take him with me when you release me from here!"
The joy that Tola found in the request was more than he had thought possible. He had wanted to fuck them both. Screw them until he'd have to kill them.
"Of course, Rita, just keep your cunt open for my cock," he replied, pushing his hips into her lower thighs, while holding the man's head high.
"You'll have him forever. Hell be able to fuck you like I'm fucking you. He has a big cock. You're right to fall in love with him," Tola said, forcing himself further into her fleshy tissue, which twitched and ejaculated fluids that made the humping luscious and juicy.
"Kiss him!" Tola commanded. "But I can't."
"Kiss him! Your cunt is full of my cock."
Tola held the man's head as far back as it would go. "Kiss his mouth, bitch. Grab your lover's lips. Let him know how much you love him!"
Rita kissed the mouth of the man she was tied to, the body she'd beat and fucked with the rubber hose. His lips were so ready to be kissed, it was as if they had been in love for many moons.
"Kiss that face, Rita. Show me how much you love him. My prick is fucking you. He's on his stomach. His prick can't touch you. You know he has a prodding dick. Kiss him while I fuck you. Kiss him as though he were fucking you, feel his cock up your cunt."
Rita was sucking at the man's neck, pushing all the while into Tola's cock, as it rammed to the hilt, in and out of her cunt.
"I'm shooting my blast into your slutty slit. This is good cunt. Take tlds blast, baby."
Tola rested for a minute. The fucking was great for him. The pussy was good. He wanted to fuck the prisoner's ass. But the pussy he had his cock in, flushed with flesh and heat, over all, with his cock as hard as it was, made him forget.
Once out of the cunt, Tola, standing off the table now, looked at his cock. He could see the folded cock of the guy, spread between his tied legs, swollen and hard. His own cock was beating a time that made it fall between his legs as he stood there viewing his victims.
"Rita, you are going to be fucked again," Tola screeched, moving his body as though it had wings.
Rita was quickly untied. She didn't move once the ropes left her arms.
"How's that, my dear?"
Rita couldn't respond. Her legs and arms filled her sense of movement with joy at being released.
"Oh! Thank you, sir," she said, trying to stand up. Her legs were weak.
"Never mind that," Tola said, wincing at the sound of appreciation. He was going to kill them both. How could he feel elated by her appreciation?
"You have been an instructive guide. I know more about sex, now, than I knew before Delgado captured me.""
"Look," Tola said, with some understanding of what he'd found after fucking Rita, "I'm supposed to kill you both!"
"Oh, young chief, let me have my lover. He is mine! You can't deny me that."
She spoke with a sound that made Tola realize his own position. If Delgado didn't get a chance to be promoted, he'd never be the chief.
"You better get him out of here. I have to get to the front office." Tola spoke with hate at Rita's reference of love and care.
"Let me take him out. Please! I have to have him. I've never known a man like this before," she said, far off from the prisoner's ears.
"Why?" Tola asked, dressing himself, doing it very quickly for the matter of time. He knew he was late to meet the Major.
"Because," Rita answered, watching Tola dress, "I want us both to be free. We haven't done anything to your establishment."
"I don't think the Major would agree with you," he said as he finished dressing.
"How can you care about him?"
"I do care, senorita. He has a good position. If the government continues, as we know it, I could be a big shot."
"And, if the government does not," Rita said with utter contempt.
"They will. The forces that have come from the Army. The Army is always strong. You know that from history."
Rita was still naked, pulling the prisoner from his bound state holding his head, while answering Tola.
"You know, Tola, I don't think you like the Major. Except for his job."
Tola, dressed and ready to leave the dark den, fanned the last remark.
"I was supposed to kill you both. To cut your throats!"
The loud talk caused some response from the guard by the door in the hall.
"Sir, are you all right?"
Tola could see the guard peeking through the hole in the iron door.
"Yes, I'm all right, you chicken-assed idiot. Get out of here. Call the post. Tell them we are going out to the front."
Tola watched the two, arms around each other. Ah, love, he thought, while watching them as they searched out each other for the first time. He had planned to kill them. He knew Delgado wanted them killed.
"Oh, Tola, you are my Prince." Rita spread her words as though she wasn't sure that her feeling meant anything.
"Get him dressed," Tola replied.
"You're a saint."
"Dress your lover, Rita. Get him up."
She moved to the advice. But the body was heavy. His arms fell with a thud. Tola was dressed and moving towards the cell door.
"Get him out of here. I can only promise a little time."
Rita, acting with more strength, lifted her new-found lover off the terrible table. He seemed to stick to it as she moved his naked frame from the sweaty table. The body was heavy; it couldn't move by itself. As Tola left, Rita knew she had to do the rest. Saving herself meant saving the body of the man she had grown to love.
The way out of the dark dungeon, filled with dark mysterious underground shadows, gave Rita much courage. She'd forgotten how she was brought here. Only the sense of fresh air, as she came near the opening of the tunnel, with him wrapped around her shoulder, stumbling as he was made to walk by her strong direction, made Rita sense the light of safety.
Tola had left her. He was, no doubt, looking out for his own hide. He didn't trust the Major. She knew that. If he had to wait for the Major to leave before he could get his erotic-nuts into action, that meant he had something to hide.
Once out of the tunnel, Rita, bracing the weight of the man she escaped with, threw herself on the ground. It was easy to move, now that the man was on the ground beside her. leaving her back to rest.
Hey, she thought, we're free!
The man started to mumble. Rita undressed. The sweat and agony she'd experienced made her feel like a pig brought to market and forgotten by the sellers.
Damn, she said to herself, as she found the small pond and moved into it: this is like being alive again.
The pond was a part of the forgotten place the regime never gave to be watched. It was cool and quiet. Once the water had covered her, she reached out to pull her whipped lover into the water.
Delgado would never have dreamed his orders had been disobeyed. Nor would he have cared right now. He smiled confidently, staring up at the Cathedral. He had them. Finally and forever. And all consuming, was the end of Felicia. He had great plans for her end.
He looked back at the jeep-load of soldiers following his car and nodded. They got out and stood at attention waiting for his orders. He would summon them himself. He wanted first to enjoy the pleasure of their expressions when he entered their hideout. Ah, yes! That would be the opener. Then Felicia herself. His prick stirred and he scratched his crotch lazily as he advanced up the steps of the Cathedral, beckoning his aides to follow.
Inside the passageway, he breathed deeply-the familiar incense of childhood. What a bore, he thought. Standing erect, he shouted: "YOU'RE SURROUNDED! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!
Delgado barely heard the laughter from within the church. He fell clutching his belly as his guts spewed out in a bloody pool across the stone floor of the church foyer.
The doors opened and Felicia stood still staring down at the crumpled body of the only man she had ever thought she hated in her life. Behind her, Paul shook his head, "He should not have died that way. So painlessly. We should have," his voice trailed off.
Felicia turned to him and smiled sadly, "We should have what? Is this what the revolution has made us? Like him?"
