The telephone lay on the nightstand like a specimen on a dissecting table, its every component open to view. Here, next to the lamp, was the mouthpiece, a silver dollar poked full of pinholes, and there, by the ashtray, the innards of the dialing mechanism stared up at the ceiling, waiting calmly for the next stage in its disembowelment. It really is a beautifully designed piece of equipment, Janice thought absently; bundles of green and yellow wires wrapped neatly together, their ends splayed out like a sheaf of wheat on their way to the silvery connectors; each part taking up no more room than was absolutely necessary, and each series of wires separated from the next by clean, orderly spaces-all in all, the thing looked like a well-maintained electronic park. Yes, she thought, someone at the lab did a fine job when they put this gadget together; a fine job indeed. And so what?
The phone's nudity and Janice's bitterness were interconnected: if David was going to end their romance, she had reasoned, then she was going to make damned sure that he didn't have a chance to change his mind. He'd done this so many times before in the course of their two-year affair, told her that their love was ruining his painting, that he had to be alone for awhile to think things through and try to recover his stroke, told her that he'd call as soon as he felt like he could handle both her and his art simultaneously. The first few times he'd done it, Janice had acquiesced in silence, knowing that he'd never be able to give any-thing of himself unless he felt that his art was not being disturbed or altered in any way by the attention he paid her, but after four or five repetitions of the same, theme, she had begun to suspect that he really didn't have much to give her in the first place, and maybe that he wasn't such a hot painter either. Besides, she was tired of being put in the position of always having to wait for him to call, always having to take a back seat to his decisions, his art, while her own will had to hang in suspension until his mind cleared. It just wasn't fair, she thought-after all, she had her art to attend to, and she always managed to keep her sculpture separate from her love life, or even better, to make the two complement one another, so why shouldn't she expect David to be able to do the same thing? He was supposed to be the teacher, the wise one, the accomplished artist, so why was it that a simple and potentially beautiful thing like love made him fall apart so completely?
It hadn't always been that way, she remembered, certainly not in the beginning. She had come to the Art School straight out of high school in Durango, Colorado, new to the big city and new to the sophisticated notions of the students and professors around her. Yet she had known, despite her initial confusion and disorientation, that this was what she wanted, that her parents had been wrong in insisting that she go to the University of Colorado and take up something "sensible," like training herself to be an elementary school teacher, or even worse, a college educated house-wife. She had seen too many girls from her town, among them her older sister Cindy, fall for that "sensible" approach and end up leading lives that never called for any sort of consciousness or sensibility above the level of sleepwalking, and that more often than not were little better than warmed-over death, and she had known almost instinctively that she deserved something much, much better.
Her first few weeks at the School had proved that to her. Immediately she had been caught up in the exuberant craziness that characterized the atmosphere of the place, and even when that craziness had turned destructive, as it often did, she found it far prefer-able to the polite, cotton candy sociability of the people in her home town. For at the school everyone was truly an individual; there were no character types, no sameness among either the students or the teachers. The only thing they all seemed to hold in common was a belief that there were realms of experience that lay beyond (or beside) the comata that passed for life among "normal" people, and that those realms of experience were accessible only through art. Of course, everyone had his independent notion concerning the shape of those elusive realms, and everyone thought that his way-whether it was drugs, meditation, or complete immersion in the world of debauchery and violence-was the only means by which those states could be reached, but this only served to open her eyes to the infinite possibilities contained within the boundaries of a single life, and to make her own ideas that much more important to her.
And life at the School was nothing if it wasn't exciting. There was work, of course, and plenty of it-the professors demanded much more than talk and theorizing from their students-and this suited Janice fine; she wanted to work, and as hard as she could. But there was also play, colorful, riotous play: all night parties where sex in all its forms held center stage, long and heady discussions in mid-night bars and coffee shops, pranks and practical jokes played on the universe in general. Janice participated fully in all these forms of play, with one single exception: sex. She was perhaps the only girl at the School who still carried the old-fashioned notion that sex was only meaningful in the context of a full relation-ship, one which was based on mutual love and respect. Besides, she was still a virgin, and she meant to keep herself that way until the time was right. Her classmates had teased her at first, especially the girls, had called her "Auntie Janice" and "Snow Cone," but soon enough they learned to leave her alone, even to respect her for her independent attitudes and her refusal to be swayed by the behavior of everyone around her.
Then she had met David Poland. He had an enormous reputation both as an artist and a teacher, but since Janice was not particularly interested in painting, she had never enrolled in any of his classes. She met him at one of the parties, noticed him standing aloof but smiling as her roommate Julie did a sixty-nine with the pottery professor on the living room table. Her first impression of him had been one of dignity combined with sensitivity: his long, thick hair, prematurely and startlingly white, had contrasted so markedly with the smoothness of his skin, the youthfulness of his eyes and his smile. And when he had turned to find her staring openly at him, he had beamed that smile at her, as if to say "all this is charming, isn't it, but how much more charming it would be in private."
During the course of the party he had found an excuse to talk with her, and without exactly knowing how it happened, Janice found herself leaving the party with him a full hour before midnight. They had gone to a little bar a few blocks from the campus, had sat there drinking and talking until well past dawn, even though the chairs had been piled up on the tables around them hours before and the bartender had been yawning meaningfully in their direction. They talked about everything: about theories of art, about their backgrounds-Janice had been astonished to find that David came from Leadville, a town that lay at the top of the Rockies only a few miles from Durango-about the city, the School, their ambitions and secret fears. By the end of the evening, David had convinced her to take a class from him the following semester ("How can you be a good sculptor if you don't know how to see?" he had said), and had asked if he could see her again.
That had been the beginning of a long and marvelous relationship, one that had developed with elaborate slowness and caution on both their parts. Without ever needing to talk about it, David had somehow guessed that she was different from the other students in her out-look on sex, and he had never as much as hinted that she change her ideas. But despite this chasteness, their relationship seemed to incorporate all possible relationships: teacher-student, brother-sister, father-daughter, lover-lover. Most of all, though, they were friends, warm, caring friends.
For about six months both of them were content to keep it that way, each for his own reasons. On Janice's part, there was still enough uncertainty in her feelings for David that she would just as soon leave sex out of the picture until she was absolutely convinced that he was the man she wanted for a complete lover. David had another reason: he was married, and although his marriage was "not going well," as he put it, he still maintained that he loved his wife and didn't want to do anything that would jeopardize the chances of their making a go of it. This was fine with Janice, for although she felt more and more as though she were beginning to love David, she didn't want to cause him any scandal, or to be the source of further bad feelings between him and his wife. At times she thought her own behavior rather curious, more befitting an elementary school teacher from Durango than a student at the best art school in the country, but all in all she was quite satisfied.
Then one day, after one of his lectures, David had intercepted her on the way out of the building, had caught her arm and bent over to whisper to her: "I've got to talk to you. Some-thing important." The urgency in his voice had surprised her-he was usually so self-contained-and she had agreed without hesitation to meet him later that afternoon at their favorite bar.
She had arrived before him and taken a seat at their customary table in the corner. He had come in a few minutes later, stopped at the bar to order two drinks, and walked quickly over to where she was sitting. As he sat down to join her, she noticed that his expression was worried and frightened, that there were circles of sleeplessness under his eyes, and she began to grow alarmed.
"David," she said, reaching across the table to take his hand, "what's the matter?"
"Janice," he said, and she noticed with a shock that his voice was trembling, "I don't know what to do. I haven't eaten or slept in three days. It feels like everything's coming apart."
"What's happened?" she said, although she was beginning to think that she already knew.
It turned out that she was right. "My wife wants a divorce," he said, running his hand across his eyes. "She told me three days ago." Janice leaned back in her chair. "David," she said, "I'm sorry to hear that, I really am, I know how important your marriage is to you. But I'm not really surprised. I am surprised that it's affecting you this way, though. Didn't you expect it?"
He looked at her, a momentary anger flashing across his face. "It's one thing to expect it," he said coldly, "and quite another to have it happen. Of course I expected it, but now that it's happening it's as if I hadn't expected it at all. We've been together for ten years, you know."
Janice took his hand again. "I'm sorry," she said. "That was very cold of me. Forgive me, David, I really am sorry."
He smiled, a harried, nervous, insincere little smile, and gave her hand an answering squeeze. "It's okay," he said. "In a way, I agree with you. I knew it was coming; I shouldn't let it upset me so much. But Jesus, I was so sure we could work it out; I had hoped so damned much...." He suddenly stopped speaking, his voice choked with tears.
Janice quickly moved over to his side of the table, put her arms around him and buried her mouth in his neck. "Oh David," she murmured. "I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"
He didn't reply, only reached for her and encircled her waist with his arms, laid his face against her cheek. They stayed in that position for what seemed like a very long time, and then something started to happen. At the exact same moment, both of them felt a long-standing barrier begin to crumble as their bodies responded to his sorrow and to their sudden nearness. She felt a new sort of energy course through her body and escape through her fingertips; her hands came alive on his back, tracing small electric circles between his shoulder blades. Simultaneously, David's hands were moving up and down along her sides, the thumbs barely grazing the undersides of her firm breasts, making her moan inwardly. This was it, they both knew it, the culmination of six months of waiting, six months of keeping a respectful distance from one another while the needs of their bodies went unanswered. The time was now, there was no denying it.
Without saying a word, they rose from the table, walked hand in hand out of the bar to David's waiting automobile. They made the short drive to her apartment in silence, their hands on each others' bodies doing all the talking that was necessary. She sat very close to him in the car, his hand resting on her knee and giving it an electrifying squeeze every few minutes. His fingers massaged the flesh of her thigh as his hand moved slowly beneath the hem of her skirt and worked its way further up until he could feel the tight elastic of her silk panties under his touch. Her breath was becoming rapid and she could see the tension build on his face as he quickly withdrew his hand and finally broke the silence, choking out the words: "We'd better wait until we get to your place or we'll never make it!" He said it laughingly, but it was quite true, since they were both already close to the brink of their passion.
It seemed to take hours to drive the short five blocks to her apartment, and by the time they got there, David was sure that he would be about to explode, and the ache in her body was making it difficult for her to sit still in the car until they finally pulled into the carport at the back of the building.
She had not ever made love to a man before; she had always stopped her boyfriends at home just short of that final, all-encompassing act. She had heard her girlfriends say that the first time you made love it hurt, but she was certain that it couldn't be any worse than the slow burning ache in her loins that was demanding its first complete satisfaction.
Once inside the apartment she didn't even bother to turn on the light. She walked straight for the bedroom. Without speaking, they looked at each other, feeling the tension build between them, stretching to the breaking point like a rubber band. They fell together on top of the bed, their hands searching each others' bodies as though they had been starved and were now about to devour each other. She could feel his hands move roughly, demandingly under her skirt and forcing it up over her hips, revealing the thin white nylon of her panties. She could feel the hard throbbing bulge of his cock as it strained against the confines of his trousers, and his other hand was pushing her fingers toward his zipper so that she might release his hard, pulsing organ. She moaned softly as she felt his hand work fully under the tight restrictive elastic of her panties and touch the moist, throbbing lips of her vagina as he teased her to an even greater height. Her fingers moved rather clumsily at first trying to undo the top button of his trousers, but he was quick to help her, and soon she could feel the zipper unfasten and the soft cotton of his shorts underneath.
Her fingers quickly reached inside the constricting material of his shorts and grasped firmly around the thick, jerking cock, and she gasped, thinking: "My God, how huge!"
His lips quickly stopped her gasps and moans, and he nibbled gently at her ear and neck as she threw her head back against the pillow in complete abandon. His fingers slid under the elastic leg band of her panties and manipulated the lips of her vagina and rubbed harshly against the hardened bud of her clitoris, until she felt that she would be able to stand it no longer. Her hands worked furiously on his stiffened manhood, forcing the foreskin back on the shaft and then pulling it forward again, stimulating the glans until it was a bright, purplish red and was jerking involuntarily in her hands.
His fingers were now slowly forcing their way into the tight, moist channel of her open vagina, and she could feel her warm, wet flesh contracting around his fingers as the pressure increased. It hurt her slightly, but she was too caught up in her passion and lust to cry out or to tell him to stop or to be more careful. She writhed beneath his impalement of her vagina, forcing his hand deeper and deeper between her legs, until suddenly his fingernail accidentally scratched the tight unused walls of her passage. She cried out in pain, and he withdrew his hand, startled.
"My God, you're a virgin, aren't you?" he had whispered with a pleasant surprised tone to his voice.
"Yes, yes ... but please don't stop. I want you so badly, please don't stop now."
He got up from the bed and slowly removed his clothing until he stood over her like a Greek god. His physique was admirable, solid and muscular; and his massive, swollen cock stood out and jerked up against his stomach. She could not take her eyes off his gigantic organ, and she thought how wonderful it was going to be to feel it inside her, filling her every inch of the way; and how warm and secure it would feel when he erupted inside her to fill her with the heat of his life-giving sperm.
He looked down at her tenderly and gently raised her up from the bed, helping her to remove her blouse and skirt. He looked at the white fullness of her breasts as they stood up above the cloth of her brassiere, and he sucked in his breath. He had not realized that she was so well-endowed before, and this excited him even more. The trim youthfulness of her figure could match even Venus or Aphrodite. Slowly he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled at the elastic of her sheer nylon panties until they dropped carelessly on the floor. He bent over to kiss the soft white flesh of her stomach as his hands worked behind her to release her brassiere, and then dropped that too on the floor next to the bed. Then his lips began hungrily searching and caressing every inch of her body, nibbling gently at first at the erect pink buds of her nipples and then biting them more demandingly. She could feel his mouth sucking and biting the tender, aching nipples, and a slight pain shuddered through her body, and she writhed violently beneath him. Her hands ran over the small of his back and under his heavy muscular thighs until they found the soft roundness of his testicles and teased them tantalizingly. Then she finally ran her fingers down the long, thick shaft of his rock-hard cock. She maneuvered it back and forth, sideways, rubbing it against the inner part of her own tensing thighs as he continued his mouthing of her now-quivering belly. He moved his head further down on her body as his fingers found the tiny wet opening of her vagina and slowly separated the soft, wet lips, the tips probing thrillingly at the erectness of her clitoris. She tried to force her legs together, but his movements were too fast, and swiftly pressing her legs wider apart, his mouth found the smooth fleshy slit and he began to suck gently on her vaginal lips while his tongue teased her now-throbbing clitoris into a frenzy. She could no longer control her body as she squirmed helplessly beneath his relentlessly sucking mouth, and a sharp new sensation ripped through her body like blinding lightning. She gasped for breath and moaned as his swirling tongue continued to drive her to new ecstatic heights and demands.
"Ooooooooooo God ... aaaaaaaagggghhhh," she moaned. "I can't stand what you're doing to me ... oooooohhhh...." But there was nothing she could do but submit recklessly to this furious, passion-crazed moment and take it for all it was worth.
She thought it would never stop, and she was dying to have him inside her, filling her, satisfying this animal need that had sprung up so suddenly, without the slightest warning. She moved her hand and fingers more rapidly now up and down his hardened, lust-filled cock, until he moved once again, further up on her body. His hands went behind her knees, forcing her thighs completely apart so that she lay there spread-eagled and vulnerable, ready for impalement.
"God, you're a hot little thing. I'm going to stretch that tight little pussy of yours until you beg me to stop!" His voice was trembling and thick as he whispered in her ear, his passion now running away with him.
"Oh yes ... take me. I love you ... I want you ... NOW ... NOW!" She had had one last moment of indecision but the fires raging now deep in her belly quenched all thought of turning back.
Without further warning he pulled her under him, and she could feel the hard knob of his penis as it pushed the wet, throbbing lips of her vagina aside, and he guided his thick man-hood quickly into her. She groaned as she felt the first blunt entry, and she felt as though she were being split in half, but her passion was too high for her to cry out in protest. She was moaning and gasping, but it was from the coming pleasure as well as from the pain that he was causing her. Slowly he worked his way into her until his rigid shaft of flesh came to the tight elastic covering of her maidenhead. She could feel him pushing against it, gently at first, trying to stretch the tiny opening that nature had allowed, but suddenly his patience ended and with a low animal grunt he plunged into her with one forceful lunge, tearing the thin, tight membrane of her virginity into a thousand threads.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhh, stop ... God, please stop, you're going to kill me!" she cried out suddenly, but it was too late to go back now. She kicked her legs wildly into the air, trying to release some of the pressure that was building up inside the warm splitting channel between her legs, but it did no good. He was imbedded deep down inside her screaming belly and there was no way on earth to dislodge him now.
He lay still for a second, allowing her to regain her composure, and then whispered softly, "Now, you are going to enjoy it, just try to relax and move with me!" He was trying to be tender with her, but his passion was at such a peak that he doubted he would be able to wait much longer before he would explode like a wild, bursting rocket inside the tight confines of her virginal, hot throbbing pussy.
She tried to move under him, but she was still afraid that it would hurt, so her movements were guarded. But after the first few moments of his impalement she realized that the pain she had experienced a few moments before was gone, and she began to slowly and deliberately grind up into his hips with a renewed fervor. Her body was demanding satisfaction as much as his, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him inside her until she thought she could feel his hardened rod digging into the very bottom of her belly. Every thrust he made went deeper and deeper into her wet, aching cunt, and her rotations became more and more rapid as choking sounds of passion and lust rolled desperately from her mouth.
"Oooooooohhhhhhh ... aaaaaaaggghhh...." she moaned as she twisted violently beneath him, forcing her hips up to meet his every thrust inside her. He reached down and cupped his hands beneath her buttocks in order to give himself more leverage and force himself deeper into the tight well of her hot, clinging pussy. His cock was throbbing, expanding and jerking, and he knew that he would not be able to keep up this pace much longer, so he ground into her as hard as he could, burying himself to the hilt.
She could feel his body pounding against hers, answering her need for passion and fulfillment, and she could feel the walls of her vagina begin to contract against his massive cock and begin the throes of her orgasm. Never in her life had she experienced anything like this!
"Oh, yes, darling, fuck me, fuck me now ... I'm coming, I'm coming!" she gasped, using words she had never spoken before in her en-tire life, at least not with any meaning. Knowing that she had reached her peak, he thrust into her with increased vigor, until he could feel his rod suddenly expand and the hot liquid sperm shoot from his lust-hardened cock deep down into the convulsing walls of her womb.
"Aaaaaaaaagggggghhhh," she gasped as she felt the hot, sticky fluid fill her satiated belly.
"That was marvelous, darling ... that was wonderful!" she whispered after a moment, her breasts still quivering and heaving up onto his chest.
They lay there together on the bed, satiated and panting, gasping, but not speaking for a long time. Finally David broke the silence, saying, "I hope I didn't hurt you too much, sweet-heart, I want to make you happy."
"Ohhh, no," she whispered, "you did make me happy, the happiest girl in Painting 101. But I don't think I'll be able to walk for weeks!"
He smiled down at her and rolled down to her side. She had fallen asleep that way cradled in the strength of his arms, and slept as she had never before in her life.
CHAPTER TWO
For the next three months, during the time that David's divorce was in litigation, he and Janice spent nearly every night together, making love in every way imaginable. It became progressively more difficult for them to maintain a front of mere detached friendship at school, and soon all pretense was thrown aside-it became known to one and all that David and Janice were in fact lovers, just as every-one had suspected all along. Luckily, the ad-ministration of the School was liberal enough to accept this student-teacher liaison without making problems for David, and the School community as a whole was liberal enough to greet their relationship smilingly, without a trace of malice or gossip.
For they were charmed, and they soon came to see themselves that way. If they were both searching for extra-normal experiences, for worlds of beauty that lay outside the grasp of most, they now found those experiences, that world, in their love. The writings of the mystics gathered dust on their bookshelves, and offers of psychedelic trips were met with smiles and a polite "no thanks." Their love was so rare and cloudless, so consuming, that they needed nothing else, not even guarantees that they would be together in the future.
But it was just this pervasiveness that eventually began to trouble their relationship. With-in a few months David was complaining that he felt powerless in everything but love, that he was so enmeshed in the private world they were creating that he could no longer paint. Finally there came the first of his phone calls, telling her that he had to get away from her for awhile, had to rediscover the self that existed without her so that he could go on with his work.
Janice didn't object at first, but when his phone calls became more frequent and his visits less so, when their enforced separations grew longer than their times together, she began to feel that something was wrong. That vague feeling grew and grew until it became outright misery, for she still could not understand why their love was affecting him this way, why he should feel himself diminished by it when to her it was a source of strength. When her misery increased to the point where it affected even their times together, Janice knew she would be able to take it no longer. She tried to warn him, tried to tell him that she had reached the breaking point, but it seemed to make no difference-he was possessed by his own weakness. So the next time he called to tell her of another impending separation, she had replied curtly, "This is the last one, David;" and then she had taken the phone apart.
And that was when she discovered her own weakness. She found it necessary to stop at-tending his classes, for the sight of him made her feel as though she would explode with love and pain. She tried to lose herself in her sculpture, but the work no longer satisfied her, and the few things she did manage to turn out were mediocre and uninspired. She stopped sculpting, stopped going to the School altogether, and spent all her time in her apartment, drinking gin and tonics and watching television.
Finally even this escape became inadequate, and Janice knew she would have to do some-thing more drastic. Either she would have to go back to David, accept him on his terms, or she would have to leave. She knew she could not do the former, she'd tried that for months and it had only made her miserable, and she knew that staying in the city was not doing her any good either. So she decided to leave, to go to Mexico and lie in the sun for awhile. Perhaps after a few months, she thought, she would be able to forget David entirely and to resume sculpting.
She had heard that there was an American artists' colony in the town of Guanajuato, and the picture of that town in the travel folder made her catch her breath. It was so beautiful, a gleaming white jewel in the middle of the desert, with a seventeenth century adobe wall surrounding the city, making it seem entirely disconnected from any world Janice had ever known. That very afternoon she packed her things, bought an airplane ticket for Guadalajara, and took a taxi to the airport. She told no one where she was going, not David, not any of her friends from the School-she wanted to be absolutely alone in an absolutely unfamiliar place, without anything to remind her of the life she was leaving. To hell with David, she thought as she boarded the airplane; to hell with men!
She took a window seat in the very back of the second-class section, hoping that no one would want to sit behind the wing, hoping to be left entirely alone. But the plane was unexpectedly crowded, and eventually a graying, pot-bellied man of about middle age came back and took the seat next to her. Oh well, she thought as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair, at least he's not an artist. Then she turned her head away from the man and leaned against the wall of the plane, meaning to stare out the window until the plane landed in Guadalajara, hoping that the man next to her was not inclined to conversation.
But in that last hope she was disappointed. No sooner had the plane left the ground than the man turned to her, and smiling politely around the cigar he held between his teeth, said, "Pardon me, young lady, but I'm terrified of flying, and the only way I can relax is to talk to someone. Would you mind?"
Oh, brother, thought Janice, what a line of shit. She didn't reply, kept her nose glued to the window.
"I say, pardon me, young lady...."
Janice turned to him, making her face as fierce and angry as she could. "I don't want to talk to anyone!" she snapped.
"Didn't mean to offend you," the man mum-bled, and he began idly reading the emergency instructions from the card in front of him.
Good, thought Janice, that'll keep the old bastard off my case.
But a few minutes later she felt the old man staring at her, and she knew he hadn't given up. "Excuse me," he said, almost apologetically, "but you seem to be upset about something. Perhaps it would help if you were to talk to someone about it?"
Janice sighed to herself. "If I wanted to talk to someone," she said, "I'd go to a psychiatrist. I had a choice between going to a psychiatrist and going to Mexico, a choice between talking and not talking, and you can see what my choice was."
"You've made that very clear," the man said in a slightly injured tone of voice. "I'm sorry to keep bothering you, but I hate to see a lovely young girl so upset and bitter. Things don't get any better as you get older, believe me, so you may as well be happy when you're young. Anyway, I was just trying to help, and I'm sorry if I offended you." He relit his cigar.
Janice was instantly apologetic. He's just a nice old man, she thought to herself, probably lonely as hell; there's no reason for me to act like such a bitch. "I'm sorry," she said. "I was just preoccupied, that's all. Let's be friends." She offered him her hand.
He shook the hand warmly, smiled at her over the cigar. "I'm John Farr," he said cordially. "Investment counselor."
"And I'm Janice Ayers, former student."
"Former?" he said.
"Very." Janice replied. "I had an unfortunate incident with a professor."
"I think I get the picture," Farr said. "And now you're running off to Mexico to forget."
"That's about it," she said.
"Let's see," he said, scratching his chin in a parody of deep thought, "I would guess that you're on your way to ... Acapulco. Ah, Acapulco," he mimicked, putting one hand on his stomach and doing a little tango in his seat, "romance, gaiety, cliff divers plunging for pennies...."
Janice laughed. "Wrong," she said. "Try again."
"Wrong?" the old man said. "Hmmm, that's strange. Most of the runaways I meet are headed straight for Acapulco. You're sure that's not it?"
"I'm sure," said Janice. She was beginning to wonder if she should tell this man her destination, even if he happened to guess it. Still, she thought, giving him an appraising look, he seems nice enough, harmless enough; there isn't any reason to be nasty to him.
"Hmmm," he was saying. "Not Acapulco." He thought for another few moments, this time placing his elbow on his knee and his chin in hand; a fat, balding take-off on "The Thinker."
"Ah!" he said finally, straightening up in his seat and smiling brightly. "I've got it. Puerta Vallarta." He slunk low in his seat and leaned toward her, shifting his eyes from side to side. His voice lowered to an ominous whisper. "The Jungle," he breathed. "Night of the Iguana ... mysteries of steam and sweat...." Janice laughed again. "You make it sound pretty good," she said, "but that's still not it. Try once more."
Farr sat back in mock disappointment. "Let's see," he said, pondering; "it couldn't be Mexico City, that's too obvious, and you're obviously not an obvious person. Couldn't be Monterrey-too dirty. Guadalajara? Hmmmm, maybe...."
"You're getting warmer," Janice said.
"I am, eh? Well, that should do it. The picture is definitely clearing. You're a painter, and you want to get away from everything you've known in the past, so you're going to Chapala to find yourself."
Janice could have chosen to be offended by the slight derision in the man's tone, but she decided to laugh it off instead. The one thing she didn't need at this point was an argument with a stranger, particularly since there would be no escape from him until they landed. "You've got the motive right," she said, "or part of it, at least, but I'm not a painter and I'm not going to Chapala, wherever that is. I'm a sculptress, and I'm going to Guanajuato."
"Guanajuato!" he cried. "Incredible coincidence! That just happens to be where I'm going myself."
"Really?" Janice said, giving him a cool, owlish look. She had a feeling that she could have said she was going to the Yucatan jungle and the man would have changed his destination on the spot.
"Yes, really," Farr said. "And let me tell you, young lady, today is your lucky day. I have a house in Guanajuato, have had for ten years, and I know everybody in the place. What-ever you need-a place to stay, a job, connections with art dealers, a studio, anything-just say the word and let old John Farr make the arrangements."
"Is that true?" Janice said, looking at him with an expression of hope tinged with mild suspicion.
"Of course it's true!" he exclaimed. "Do you doubt me? Well, just give me a chance and I'll prove it to you. Let's start with a place to stay. My house...."
"Thanks just the same," Janice interrupted before he could go any further, "but I'd much rather be by myself. Maybe you could recommend a good hotel."
"Sure I could," he said. "I think you'd be better off at my place, but since you insist on your privacy, I can get you a room-and probably free of charge-at the El Condor, which is far and away the best hotel in town."
"Free of charge?"
"The owner's an old friend of mine," Farr smiled at her, obviously enjoying his self-importance, "and he owes me a few favors. It'll be no problem at all." He touched her knee, and Janice recoiled immediately from his hand. "Here's what we'll do," he said. "We'll get a cab from Guadalajara airport straight to Guanajuato, I'll take you to the El Condor, get you established, and then later on I can show you around and introduce you to a few people who can help you with what you want to do. It'll all work out just fine; all you have to do is trust an old man who likes doing young ladies a good turn."
Janice didn't reply immediately. Instinctively, she mistrusted Farr's exuberant good will, especially when it was punctuated by little pats on her knee; but on the other hand, she thought, I don't have much money; maybe I should take advantage of this offer and just make sure to keep my eyes open. She looked at him again, saw his broad smile and his smoke-stained teeth. What the hell, she said to herself. She smiled back at him, said, "Fine, Mr. Farr. That'll be just fine."
* * *
The taxi ride from Guadalajara turned out to be quite enjoyable, at least after Janice became accustomed to the careening recklessness of the driver. Farr chattered amiably in her ear all the way, but since he seemed to be talking at her rather than to her, she was free to observe the Mexican countryside. It was summertime, and the mountains that sheltered Guadalajara were at their greenest and most beautiful, with small flocks of sheep grazing through the chaparral and little farmhouses sending chimney smoke up into the clear sky. The road was bordered by a low, primitive stone fence, and Janice found herself wondering at the incredible amount of labor that must have gone into the building of it-it seemed to run unbroken for better than fifty miles. May-be, she thought, maybe I can learn to turn out sculpture that has that same rough, ancient, labored look; and maybe (here a flash of pain shot through her chest) I can learn to forget about David as well. She had hoped that she would forget him as soon as she got away from the city, but the memories of their romance refused to die so easily, and she wondered how long it would take, or if she would always carry him around inside her.
"... and Jack Columbo, another old friend of mine," Farr was saying, "has a little art gallery that caters to . .
Janice closed off her mind to Farr's conversation, even though she knew he was talking about things that could eventually be helpful to her. She concentrated her gaze on the countryside, noticing that the road was beginning to descend gradually, feeling anticipation rise in her as she saw the mountain growth slowly change to flora that was more appropriate to the desert.
Then, suddenly, the taxi bounced around a curve, and everything changed. They were still relatively high up in the mountains, but below and in front of them stretched the broad, flat achingly dry expanse of the central Mexican desert; and squarely in the middle of that expanse, like a centerpiece on an otherwise bare table, stood the town of Guanajuato.
Janice gasped when she saw it. It was like a vision of Sodom turned to salt, so still and white, or like a monument to some unknown desert god. The little city literally gleamed in the sun, and the reflection of its white walls and towers made her eyes ache. As they descended into the desert, the city somehow seemed to remain the same size, as if it existed in a spatial dimension all its own. The closer they approached, the more isolated and self-contained it seemed, and when they finally passed under the arched gate in the bordering white wall, Janice felt instantly as though she had been transported into a fantasy. Time was immediately irrelevant-there was only the sun and the whiteness of the little buildings and the knowledge that everything inside these walls had been and would always remain essentially the same as it had been when the city was built, some four hundred years before.
Even Farr had subsided into respectful silence, realizing that his conversation struck a discordant note with the peace and timelessness of Guanajuato. The taxi driver seemed to recognize it too, and he slowed the cab to a crawl, halting completely when an old lady crossed in front of them with a small push-cart full of flowers. All three of them sat in silent salute to the old lady and her cheerful burden, then Farr leaned forward and said in a quiet voice: "Al Condor, pero vete despaciam-ente."
They drove slowly through the narrow streets of Guanajuato, until finally the taxi pulled up in front of an old, dignified, quiet-looking building that was differentiated from the other buildings on the street only by a small bronze plaque beside the entrance. "Hotel El Condor," the plaque said. Farr got out of the taxi, took Janice's luggage and his own small suitcase from the trunk, helped Janice out, and paid the driver, thanking him in Spanish. Then he picked up the bags and silently led Janice through the archway into the lobby of the hotel.
The lobby was sparsely but tastefully furnished, austere wooden chairs and colorful tapes-tries complementing the whiteness of the walls, and a huge stone fireplace whose chimney ascended a full twenty feet before it reached the beamed ceiling. At the far end of the room stood the hotel desk, its counter a richly-polished dark mahogany. Janice knew immediately that the hotel would suit her perfectly: it was like entering the home of someone's grandfather.
A small, dark man was hurrying across the lobby towards them, his teeth as gleaming white as the walls of Guanajuato as he smiled at them. "John!" he said, extending his arms to Farr, "it's so good to see you again!" His English was perfect.
The two men embraced, and then Farr turned to Janice.
"Janice," he said, "I'd like you to meet Humberto Fuentes, the owner of the hotel and an old, old friend of mine. Humberto, this is Miss Janice Ayers, an artist who wants to see what the desert has to offer. I want you to give her the best room in the place and see that she's well taken care of."
"Por supuesto!" said Fuentes. "The friend of John Farr's will stay only in the presidential suite, nowhere else, and I will personally at-tend to her needs." He smiled warmly at Janice, shook her hand, then whistled for a bellboy to take charge of the luggage.
"Tell you what," said Farr, looking at Jan-ice. "Why don't you go get yourself settled, freshen up a bit, and then meet us down in the bar for an introductory drink, say in fifteen minutes. How's that sound?"
Janice was suddenly feeling very tired, but Farr had been so kind and helpful that she found it impossible to refuse him. "Fine," she said. "Fifteen minutes."
Farr and Humberto watched her follow the bell-boy up the stairs, and when she was fully out of view, the Mexican turned to Farr and said, "That's quite a good one you've got there, John. Round in the right places, flat in the right places; very, very nice. She should make a nice addition to the stable, no?"
"Yes," said Farr, nodding, "and I think we had better begin her initiation right away. She's pretty confused, probably just had a bad love affair or something, and I think we'd be better off to take advantage of that confusion now, before her head clears."
"Si," said Fuentes, his eyes gleaming, "and a little of the mescalito should do the trick, yes?"
"Sin duda," Farr responded. "No doubt about it."
* * *
When Janice walked into the bar fifteen minutes later, she found Farr and Fuentes al-ready seated at a table waiting for her. They both rose as she approached, and Fuentes pulled a chair out for her with elaborate courtesy, saying "Ah, the beautiful senorita has arrived, and good fortune for the men who wait."
"And even better fortune for the senorita herself," Janice answered as she sat down. "I can't thank you gentlemen enough for the kindness you've shown me; I really feel right at home already."
"Good!" said Farr, casting a glance at Fuentes that seemed to carry some hidden meaning. Fuentes, however, ignored the glance and called over to the bar, "Jaime, bring the lady a mescalito special, right away."
The bartender, a thin young man with slicked down black hair, nodded, and a few seconds later walked across to their table holding a frosted glass that contained a clear, inviting-looking liquid. "For the senorita," he declared, placing the drink in front of her, "the friend of Mr. Farr's."
Janice thanked him, picked up the drink and took a cautious sip. It had a powerful alcoholic taste to it, but underlying that taste was some-thing more subtle, a clear, cool sensation that Janice found delightful. She started to take an-other sip, then stopped as she saw the two men chuckling at her.
"Excuse me, Miss Ayers," said Fuentes, "but the mescalito is not meant to be sipped. It is meant to be chug-a-lugged, as I believe you say in America, so please, drink it right down."
Janice was not so sure about this custom-the drink seemed much too strong to be taken down in a single gulp-but, she figured, these men must know what they're talking about. She lifted the glass to her lips and drained it before setting it down on the table.
The two men smiled broadly at her. "That's it," Farr nodded at her. "No wasted motion in Mexico; it's too hot to be doing all that lifting." He reached out and patted Janice on the knee, just as he had done on the plane, but this time she found that she didn't mind it at all. He was nice, she thought in a vague, hazy sort of way; she was so glad to have met him.
Then something strange began to happen. The room began to ooze around her, and it seemed suddenly as if the walls and table were made of rubber. The ornate crystal chandelier on the ceiling began to give off streamers of rainbow-colored light, and the faces of the two men in front of her were growing until they seemed to be three times their normal size. She tried to say something, to ask the men what was happening to her, but her tongue was thick and the words were not coming out right. In the background of her mind she could hear Farr and Fuentes conversing, but her head was so clouded that it was hard to distinguish what they were saying. She tried to get up from her chair, but she found that her legs were rubbery and she was unable to stand up, much less walk. Her eyes were slowly closing and she could feel herself slipping gently off into a state of dreamy unconsciousness.
The two men nodded to the Mexican bar-tender and he came over to the table.
"Take her to her room, Jaime. We'll be up there shortly," Fuentes ordered.
Jaime didn't speak, but picked her up as if she was a feather and carried her to the stair-way at the entrance to the bar.
"She will probably sleep soundly for a half-hour or so, Humberto, but when she begins to wake up she'll be climbing the walls!" Farr laughed menacingly.
"I don't know how you do it, John," Fuentes answered. "I honestly don't know how you manage."
The men finished another drink which Fuentes poured for them and then followed Jaime on up to the room. Jaime had put her on the bed and not bothered to pull down her skirt which was riding well above her hips, revealing her stockinged legs, the supple, pale flesh above the stockings, her narrow garter belt and thin, white bikini panties.
"Wow! Quite a set of pins on this one," Humberto almost gasped. "She's quite a fine figure and so young-this should be fun!"
Jaime left the room so that the two men could be alone with their prize, because he knew that he was only allowed to sample the girls after they had finished or when they wanted to watch the look of horror come over an innocent young girl's face when a big Mexican stud like him was about to take them.
The two men carefully drew the skirt away from her hips and unbuttoned the tailored cot-ton blouse and pulled it away from her shoulder. She was not wearing a slip, so they could see the high fullness of the white flesh of her breasts protruding above the material of her brassiere. They drew in their breath as they looked down at this young, helpless girl who was so completely at their disposal.
Her long blonde hair curled down around her shoulders and lay against the pillow, framing her angelic face. Her features were firm and regular, with just a little irregular fleshiness to the lips which just added to her sensuality. Her body was slim, firm and well-formed, without any outsized sexiness in her curves. The men devoured her young form with their eyes, when Humberto broke the silence.
"I'd like to take her right now while she's sleeping, I've never done that!" he said sadistically.
"Why do that when she will be more than ready for us when she wakes up," Farr added, "it won't take long for the mescal to take effect and I only had Jaime put a slight sedative in her drink, so be patient!"
"Very well, but it does seem like such a waste ... all that beauty and no one loving her. She should be loved all the time. Christ, I can't wait to screw the daylights out of her!" They waited patiently alongside her bed, sipping slowly on their drinks and talking while she slept, only occasionally letting their hands wander over the full, round curves of her body. She stirred slightly under their touch, still completely unaware of what was happening or what was about to happen. Humberto ran his hands up the inner side of her thighs, feeling the silk of her stockings, and gradually let his fingers find the tight elastic legband of her panties. He pushed his fingers inside until he could feel the soft fleshiness of the light hair-covered lips of her vagina.
"God, she's going to be a good piece of ass
... what a tight little pussy!" he said, his breathing increasing rapidly. He could feel a tightness building in his loins and his penis beginning to bulge under the cloth of his trousers.
"You had better be careful," the older Farr warned, "or you'll come before you even get a crack at her, and that would be a waste."
"Well, I know one thing," Humberto breathed heavily. "I'm going to strip her down right to her bra and panties. I can't wait to see what's under that skirt and blouse."
He quickly stripped them from her unconscious body and sat down again, slight beads of sweat forming on his forehead from the sight of the half-clad young girl lying helplessly before him.
The time seemed to drag as the men sat there drinking and waiting for her to come out of her drugged sleep. About an hour later she began to stir, opening her eyes slowly and looking hesitantly around her. Her vision was blurred and it took her a few minutes to realize where she was. She heard one of the men say, "She's coming to, just a few more minutes."
She tried to raise herself on one elbow, but she was weak and unable to support the weight of her body. The lights in the room were dim, and she could only see the outline of two bodies standing above her, when she felt hands forcing her back onto the bed and deep into the mattress.
"W-what's going on?" she asked feebly, but the only answer she got was a wicked, depraved laugh.
Her eyes cleared slightly and she realized that it was John Farr and Humberto who were standing there looking down at her, and she realized that it must have been them who had taken off her clothes. She tried to hide herself by drawing the sheet around her, but hands pulled it from her grasp and she lay there helplessly.
"Well, Humberto," Farr said, heading for the door, "she's all yours; enjoy yourself. I'll check back with you in the morning to see how it was. Don't say I never did anything for you."
Humberto was now sitting on the edge of the bed, slowly running his hands over her body. She found she didn't have the strength to resist his urgent caresses. He had stripped to his underwear and she could see the gigantic bulge rising underneath his shorts. She knew she did not have the power to struggle against him. She could feel his fingers fumbling for the hooks of her brassiere as he pulled it away from her body, revealing her ripe, full mounds beneath. He caressed the bare flesh of her breast, pinching cruelly at the tender pink nipples until they stood firm and erect. His mouth and tongue were tracing a pattern from her neck to the sensitive area of her unexplainably throbbing breasts, and she could feel an involuntary tightness growing in her loins ... I couldn't be reacting to this filthy animal, she thought, but her body was contradicting her mind and she could feel her desire begin to grow with each new wanton caress of this strange man. He continued his insistent mouthing of her full breasts. She lay still, uncooperative, as she felt his hands busy themselves unhooking the stays of her garters and pushing her stockings down her legs until they hung limply from her ankles. His fingers forced their way inside the tight elastic of her thin panties, and she felt his hand slip between her thighs and begin to explore the warm intimate region of her vagina. His fingers caressed the soft hair-lined lips and his thumb pinched and teased at the hard, erect bud of her clitoris, and she began to involuntarily move her hips under his touch. She didn't want to react, but the mescal was beginning to take effect, and her desire was mounting in spite of her revulsion and half-conscious confusion as to what was going on. She could feel his fingers probing at the slightly dampened opening of her vagina, and he quickly slipped a finger inside her to stroke the smooth, wet wells of the unprotected passage. She could feel her loins contracting in spite of herself, and she suddenly found her body becoming more and more excited, regardless of how obnoxious she found this small, greasy man. His rigid penis was also throbbing with excitement, and she could feel it working its way between her thighs, prodding for the opening in her pelvis.
Then, as the sedative she had been given began to wear off even more, her desire increased, until now she found herself wanting to be taken by this horrible man. She couldn't understand what was making her feel this way! God, she had never wanted anyone before but David ... but now ... now ... her hands wandered slowly over his back as he raised his body and moved over between her widely-spread thighs. She had levered them apart to give him greater access to her burning loins.
"That's a girl," he whispered in her ear. "I knew you'd come around sooner or later. In a few minutes you'll be begging me to give it to you, but you're going to have to wait until I'm ready. I want to watch you squirm until you think you won't be able to stand it any more, then I'll fuck the living daylights out of you!"
Even his crass language excited her, and she dug her nails hard into the back of his buttocks, trying to force him inside her, but he raised his hips until his fully erect cock was lying nervously against her stomach.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked piteously. "Why?"
He didn't answer her question, but instead bit cruelly into the hardened nipples of her breasts, until she cried out in pain.
"Aaaaaggghhhh," she moaned. "Stop, you're hurting me ... please." But he persisted in his sadistic nibbling until she was writhing in pain beneath him. She ran her nails harshly down his back, hoping that she was drawing blood so that he would stop, but he just laughed at her.
"You can't hurt me, baby, I love it! I love a wildcat in bed!"
The pressure in her loins was building to a fever pitch, and she ached for him to be inside her, to push deep into the softness of her belly until she was filled and gorged as she had never been before.
"Why don't you just take me; take me and get it over with?" she moaned, trying to change her psychology, but he ignored her pleas and continued to tease her erotic areas until she thought she would scream with want and need.
"Not so fast, baby," he said. "We've got all night, and I've got plenty in mind for you. I'll teach you tricks you never even knew existed," and he brought his mouth down onto her stomach, tickling the smooth sensitive skin teasingly with the wetness of his tongue.
She tried to force her hips upward to meet his mouth, and she suddenly found to her horror that her own hands were tearing at the thin silk bikini briefs in an effort to get them off so that he would have full access to her inflamed body.
His breath came up from his belly in raking gasps as he tried to control his own passion so that he would make her wait, because he knew that the waiting would be torturing her and his final entry that much more triumphant.
She fumbled desperately at her panties, when suddenly his hand caught hers and ripped them off of her in one quick jerk, so that she now lay completely naked beneath his own nude body. His mouth lowered on her belly until she could feel the hot dampness of his tongue between her spread thighs as it searched for the tiny, erect clitoris and licked it furiously until she was jerking under his mouth in uncontrolled passion.
"Oh God, fuck me ... please fuck me," she pleaded. "I can't take it any more, you're killing me!"
"In due time, baby," he breathed teasingly.
"I want to have you so hot you won't know which end is up when I ram it into you."
She reached down for the small of his back in an effort to pull him up on top of her, but his hands were forcing her thighs so far apart that she could not reach him. She didn't know that the mescal they'd given her would affect her this way, and yet now she didn't really care how or why she had come to feel this way-she just wanted to be fucked and fucked again until she couldn't stand it any more. She was only aware that she had never felt this way before, not even with David, and her mind whirled, wondering what strange thing had come over her. But the thought passed as quickly as it had come ... it didn't matter!
He sucked harshly at the tender lips of her vagina which was now wet and open with passion, and she ground her pelvis furiously under his lips and darting tongue. She was so ready that she thought she would burst if he kept up the delicious sucking torture down there between her open thighs much longer.
She had to have it! She had to have it now! NOW!
But she could not reach him to pull him to her, so she forced her own fingers down to pull and tease at the tender pulsating flesh of her clitoris, trying desperately to manipulate herself to a climax along with his probing tongue, but he forced her hands aside roughly. She groaned in wild-eyed frustration and clasped her palms to her quivering breasts, pinching her nipples masochistically into hard throbbing erectness until they hurt ... hurt with a strange, all-consuming pleasure.
Finally, when she thought she could not stand the lewd teasing of her body any longer, he crawled up onto her until his knees straddled her heaving belly and his throbbing phallus lay between the softness of her white, quivering breasts as he looked down at her with a lewd grin on his face.
"Now you're going to return the favor," he said, looking down at her cruelly, and he forced her mouth open with his fingers and without waiting shoved almost the full length of his cock deep into the back of her throat until she was almost choking. He was now kneeling over her head so that he could rise and fall with her lascivious sucking of his thick, hard organ.
"Suck it hard, baby," he choked out, "suck it good ... that's it! Oooooohhh, that's it!"
Her lips were working furiously, drawing on the huge, jerking length while her tongue lasciviously circled the red, throbbing head each time he skewered deep into the warm, moist cavern of her mouth. He was so large that it was difficult for her to catch her breath, and her eyes were suddenly wide with fear as she looked up into the evil face of Humberto. He seemed to delight in the fact that his manhood was too much for her to take all at once, and with each thrust he tried to force his gigantic prick further into her throat, until she felt as though he were trying to ram it all the way down into her belly. She nibbled hungrily, trying with all her soul to please him as best she could. She knew he would have it no other way.
Finally he felt that he would be unable to take her uninhibited wild sucking any longer or he would come right there in her mouth, so he withdrew slowly and lowered himself onto her body once again.
Her legs were spread-eagled on the bed, yawning wide in lewd surrender to receive him as she felt the thick, pulsing knob of his prick push against the wet, hot opening of her vagina. She could feel him move it slowly up and down to part the soft, resilient pubic hair there between her legs, and her excitement grew.
She had to have it! God, she had to have it!
He teased her mercilessly, pushing his throbbing penis inside her aching passage just slightly and then withdrawing it until she was bucking up against him in a wild, uncontrolled fury.
"God, don't make me wait any longer, I can't take it ... fuck me ... fuck me now ... NOW!" she moaned in the heat of her uncontrolled passion.
She tried to force him to go deeper into her, but he held her fast, with a hand curving around each hip while his fingers pressed hard into the elastic white flesh of her abdomen. He moved into her like a series of ripples of water, each time growing larger and sinking further into her. She gasped and squirmed, totally impaled, and with a final deep-throated grunt of surrender, pulled her knees back tightly into her chest. His thighs were hairy and hot along the undersides of hers, and she could feel the softness of his balls swinging down hard against her upturned anus as he pummeled deeper and deeper into her. He seemed to fill the whole of her belly, up through her breasts and out into her throat. David had never filled her that way, and she didn't know that any man could be built so big or drive her so insane from sheer lust and desire like this.
Her back began to ache from the pressure of his hands on her waist, but the pressure that was building up inside her was greater. She knew that she was about to come, he was going to make her come ... soon ... soon!
"Ooooooooohhhhhh, yes ... do it now ... NOW ... yes, I'm going to come," she gasped as he went deeper and deeper into her with each thrust.
He was beginning to feel that he was going to burst, like a balloon that had been blown too full, and he wanted to fill her with his sperm deep into her belly. She twisted frantically under him as she began to convulse with her own climax. He could feel the walls of her vagina contract violently around the thick, hardness of his driving cock and he could feel his own climax start at the base of his balls and shudder through him like a bursting rocket.
"Here it is, baby ... I'm coming ... now!" he gasped as he lunged hard between her legs and shot his warm liquid semen deep up into her still-convulsing womb.
Then, with a deep guttural grunt of satisfaction he fell on top of her in an exhausted heap, not moving for several minutes while she continued to moan out the last desperate strains of her own climax. He lay still, listening with triumphant satisfaction to her small satiated gasps of breath, and then waited until he could hear her breathing becoming more regular. When he was certain she had faded into a deep unconscious sleep he quickly dressed and went back downstairs to the bar. Jaime stopped washing glasses and quickly walked over to him.
"How was she, jefe," Jaime asked eagerly, his eyes glistening in obscene expectation.
"You'll find out for yourself, maybe tomorrow," Humberto replied. "But I do believe that Mr. Farr has found us a dandy little addition to our stable." He chuckled wickedly, a lewd smile playing about his lips. "Yes," he concluded, "a dandy little addition indeed." He looked up to see Jaime staring at him expectantly.
"Well, tonto," he roared, "what are you staring at? I told you, you'd get your chance! Now fix me a drink, and be quick about it. And I don't mean mescal!"
CHAPTER THREE
The next morning when she awoke, her body ached horribly from the wild sexual abuse she had endured the previous night. She looked down at her naked body and saw that there were bright purple bruises around her breasts, and even they were sore and tender to the touch. Her mind was hazy and she couldn't remember exactly what had taken place, but she did have the horrible recollection of making violent love to a man, and she knew that she had been only half-conscious when he had crawled on the bed with her. Her mind was clouded, which she attributed to the incredible potency of the drink she had had, but it disturbed her that she couldn't even remember what the man looked like. She certainly couldn't have been bruised by herself in this manner, not even in the most violent nightmare. She got up slowly, steadied herself on the edge of the bed and walked painfully to the shower. Maybe some cold water would clear her memory and she would be able to remember exactly what had happened.
The cold, icy points of the water stung her aching skin as she let the shower beat down on her body. She stayed under the water for almost half an hour, but it did not help to refresh her memory. Oh well, she thought, it's a hell of a way to start a vacation, but at least I won't be embarrassed if I ever see the man again, because I won't know him. Anyway, it probably happened at the Mexican Customs inspection.
Whatever had happened, it was obvious to Janice that the mystery was just going to have to remain a mystery. She shrugged to herself and set about deciding what she would do with the day, her first full day in Mexico. An inspection of the town itself was certainly first on the agenda, and after that perhaps she could go out to the desert and investigate the com-position of the soil, which she knew to be good potting clay, but its color and texture were unfamiliar to her. Yes, she thought as she put on a pair of white shorts and her old blue T-shirt that said "HOLY NAME" on the front, it was going to be a very good day indeed.
She was whistling a cheerful early Beatles tune as she walked down the stairs and into the lobby. As she passed the front desk, a man called out "Senorita! Senorita Janice Ayers," and she turned in the direction of the voice. A smallish Mexican man was standing behind the desk, grinning broadly at her, and his face seemed vaguely but startlingly familiar. This surprised Janice and alarmed her a bit-was he the man responsible for her bruises?-until she remembered that this was Mr. Fuentes, the owner of the hotel and friend of John Farr's, who'd treated her so kindly yesterday and even bought her that delicious drink. She smiled back at him and walked over to the desk.
"Good morning, senorita," Fuentes said. "I hope you slept well last night."
"And good morning to you, Senor Fuentes," Janice replied. "I slept about as well as can be expected on my first night in a strange country." There was something about this dapper little man's smile that she mistrusted, and she found herself strangely uncomfortable in his presence, even despite his previous kindness.
"Ah well," he said in his impeccable English, "I suppose it is always difficult to ad-just to a new setting, especially when the old one was not so pleasant, eh?"
Janice looked at him in alarm. How had he known that? And what else did he know about her? Her discomfort grew until she realized that the man was a good friend of Farr's, and the latter had probably relayed to him what Janice had told him about-but she hadn't told him anything at all, other than that she had been a student and was one no longer!
"Not so pleasant?" she echoed. "What do you mean?"
"Forgive me, senorita," the little man said, still smiling, "but we Latins have second sight where women are concerned, and it is not difficult for us to distinguish a happy woman from an unhappy one. Again, forgive me if I am being too personal, but your face is not that of a happy woman."
"Oh well," said Janice, shifting her feet nervously, "we all have our crosses to bear; I suppose I just bear mine a little more openly than most. Besides, I haven't had breakfast yet."
Fuentes made a little clapping gesture with his hands. "For the first," he said, "I commend you-too many people keep their feelings locked away inside them, so that not even they can tell when they are feeling badly. As for the second, I recommend our restaurant, which serves the finest huevos rancheros in Guanajuato. Please enjoy your breakfast as my guest. The waiter already expects you."
"Thank you very much," Janice said awkwardly, wondering again why these people were going so far out of their way to extend their good will to her. She began to walk away, pondering this question, when Fuentes called out to her again.
"Oh, senorita," he said, "I almost forgot. There is a message from you; excuse me, I mean for you...." For a brief moment Janice felt her throat and chest constricting. A message from David? Had he found her, and was he now asking her to come back? But Fuentes continued immediately, and Janice's false hopes subsided. "I believe it is from Senor Farr," he said, as he handed her a note written on the hotel's stationery.
Damn, Janice thought to herself. What did that old man want with her now? She was beginning to think that her worst fears in regard to him were going to be realized after all, that he was going to hound her until she would eventually have to use either judo or lies to get him off her back. And the note seemed to justify her fears:
"Dear Janice," it said, "would like very much to show you around Guanajuato today and introduce you to some friends of mine who I believe can be of some help to you. Will pick you up around eleven o'clock. Yours, John Farr."
Janice glanced hurriedly at her watch, and cursed to herself again. Christ, already fifteen minutes till eleven, no chance to escape and still eat her breakfast. Sighing to herself, she folded the note, put it in her purse, and walked toward the hotel restaurant. The worst thing about it was that she'd already obligated her-self to the old man by accepting his friendly gestures the day before, and now it looked as if she was going to have to obligate herself still further. Oh well, she said to herself, maybe I can take him for one more day and then check into another hotel tomorrow. It would cost her a lot more money that way, she realized, but her freedom would be well worth the price. How do I get myself in these lousy situations, she wondered.
She had no sooner taken a seat in the restaurant and ordered a light breakfast-the prospect of spending the day with Farr had spoiled her appetite-when Farr himself bounded through the doorway, looking like a character in a Noel Coward comedy. He was wearing a white tennis shirt, a blue and yellow checked sports coat, white pants, white shoes, and a little straw Tyrolean hat with an obnoxious yellow feather in the brim. God, Janice sighed as the old man tangoed over to her table, I sure do know how to pick 'em.
"Morning, Janice," Farr said, bowing elaborately in front of her and doffing his hat. "Did you get my note?"
"Good morning, Mr. Farr," she replied with-out enthusiasm. "Yes, I got it."
"So," he said as he seated himself beside her, "are you ready for the grand tour?" He gave her knee one of his patently annoying little pats.
"Sure," she managed. She sounded as if she were accepting an invitation to a ringside seat at a book burning ceremony.
"Well, let's get to it, then!" he said, hopping up from his chair.
Janice passed her hand in front of her eyes. Farr's tinny, country-club enthusiasm was too much for her. "Could I finish my coffee first?" she asked weakly.
"Oh, sure, sure," Farr said, sitting down again. "Just got up, eh? Well, you'll soon find out that in the summertime around here it's best to get up early, work in the morning, sleep all afternoon, and play at night. Other wise you'll find yourself running around in the middle of the day, when there's no one to talk to except lizards and snakes."
Lizards and snakes, Janice thought. Farr and Fuentes. Then she shook herself free of the thought, realizing with a slight pang of shame that she'd received nothing but warmth and kindness from the two older men. "Okay," she said, gulping down the bitter coffee and making a genuine attempt at friendliness, "I'm ready. Where to first?"
"That's the spirit!" Farr said. "No use sit-ting around feeling sorry for yourself and letting the sun bake you unconsicous. Let's get to it! I thought we'd go to the market first-it's one of the finest markets in this part of Mexico; people even come from Guadalajara to do their shopping here and then we could stop by Bill Freeman's gallery. Bill's a friend of mine, specializes in selling works by American artists to American tourists."
"Sounds good," Janice said, "but it'll be months before I'll have anything ready to show."
"And you'll need a job until then, right? Well, don't worry about that one either; old Johnny can take care of the unemployment problem with no more than a wave of the hand. But we can talk about these more unpleasant matters later. Right now, vamos al mercado!"
He got up, held Janice's chair for her, and then offered her his arm. She took it, and the two pranced through the lobby, Farr grinning from ear to ear and Janice feeling like a particularly ugly American. Farr winked at Fuentes as they passed the front desk, said, "Take care of business, Fuentes. I'm off to play!"
"Enjoy yourselves!" Fuentes waved back to them. "Juan is making his special chile Colorado for dinner, so be sure to be back by then."
"Wouldn't miss it," Farr answered.
When they got outside, Janice immediately and instinctively put her hand in front of her face to shield her eyes. Never had she experienced such a strong, bright sun, and with the reflection off the white buildings adding to the glare, she felt as if she had walked directly in front of a strong spotlight. At the same moment she experienced for the first time the bake furnace of the desert heat, a dry, slow torture that seemed to whither her skin as she stood there.
"My God!" she gasped. "Is it always like this?"
"If you're referring to the heat," Farr replied, "it's like this only about nine months out of the year. If you're referring to the glare, then it gets closer to eleven months."
"Jesus Christ," Janice swore in a whisper.
"He died of sunstroke last Wednesday," Farr said. "Nothing can save you now." He patted her on the shoulder. "Don't worry," he said in a fatherly tone, "you'll get used to it. The dryness is really very healthy, as you can see by my splendid example." He patted the round protuberance of his stomach, then laughed. "Anyway," he said, "the nights are delightful, cool and crisp, as you'll soon see, and I think you'll get to like the days as well, although that takes a little longer."
"I don't know," Janice said doubtfully. "It's really hot."
"Only if you stand still. The trick is to keep moving, create your own breeze; and if that doesn't work, then get into the shade quick and grab a glass of something cool."
"Makes sense," Janice said. "Where's the market?"
"This way," Farr said, taking Janice by the arm and guiding her up the narrow street.
Within a few minutes Janice had become enough accustomed to the searing heat to begin to notice her surroundings, and each new sight charmed her more than the last. The gleaming white buildings presented a solid phalanx on each side of the street, which wound between and among them like a creek-bed. On the bottom floor of every building was an arched entrance with a wooden door beneath, and if the residences looked like poor hovels with the doors closed, they miraculously changed into graceful palaces when the doors opened to reveal the peaceful, flowered courtyards inside. On the upper floors all the wooden shutters were closed against the midday sun, but window boxes full of flowers of all colors polka-dotted the white adobe walls.
As they came nearer to what Janice guessed must be the center of town, houses turned into small shops, although the latter were constructed exactly like the former, and through the small paned windows Janice could see goods of all description-primarily leather, clay, silver and turquoise jewelry, and basketwork-in calm, tasteful display. What a difference, she thought, between these places and American department stores, where ugliness competed with ugliness and speed with speed. There was absolutely nothing ugly or hurried about the atmosphere in Guanajuato; in fact, Janice thought, city planners could learn a great deal from the design and the feeling of this four hundred-year-old city, more than they ever could by studying blueprints or elaborate renovation schemes.
Farr remained mercifully silent during their walk, allowing Janice (at least so she thought) to gather her own impressions of the city. Actually, he was holding a smug conversation with himself, congratulating himself on his subtlety and cleverness in his campaign to corral his most recent find. She was a rare one, he thought, remembering the sight of her half-naked on the bed the night before, a nearly perfect body, still young enough to be considered virginal, even though everyone knew that these artists never made it past their thirteenth birthdays with their cherries still intact, the face of an angel, and the eyes of an intelligent nymphomaniac. Yes, she'd fetch a fine price, all right-he could hardly wait until Paco got his first look at her. Christ, if he could get as much for her as she merited, he might be able to retire. But whoa, John, he told himself, slow down and take first things first. She'd been initiated, all right, but she probably had only the dimmest recollection of her tussle with Fuentes; and there was still the matter of an obviously strongly-developed will to break down. Still, he had confidence in his own ability as a woman-breaker, and if he himself couldn't do it, there was still Jaime, and Paco, and of course, the marvelous mescalito. Yes, he thought, she'll break down in the end, just like they all do, and then she'll be my property, to dispense with at my leisure and as I god damned well please. He smiled to himself, and gave himself a little courtesy in his mind to signal the end of the conversation.
"There it is!" he said, as the minaret-shaped dome over the market came into view. "The largest open-air market outside of Mexico City. At least that's what the mayor says."
Janice looked, saw only the minaret with its steel latticework and odd windows. "Open air?" she said. "Then what's that thing?"
"Oh, that's only a dome to keep the sun out," Farr replied. "Actually the place has no walls, as you'll see, and if that ain't open air, then Madison Square Garden's a henhouse."
When they finally reached the market, Janice could see that Farr had been right, that the market was indeed open to the sun on all four sides. But what surprised her most was the immensity of the place: she thought it must be the largest square she had ever seen, seeming to encompass several acres beneath its Arabic roof. There were two floors, a bottom one, the true square, where food and other items of daily consumption were sold, and a top, catering to crafts and luxuries.
They toured the bottom floor first, where the stench of live chickens mixed with the pungent odor of chorizo and the sweet tang of chile peppers, where old women sat on blankets and offered the products of their cows and pigs: sweet warm milk, pork, ham, bacon, dried spiced beef, pigs feet, and tripe, the long coils of pig intestine that was the chief ingredient in the staple dish called menudo. Baskets of citrus fruits, full of oranges, tangerines, man-goes, papayas, and plantains formed clusters of bright colors, accenting the darker greens and subtler yellows of the vegetables. Maize and Indian corn gave one corner of the market an autumnal look, while in another a woman rolled out tortillas from home-ground corn flour.
They spent more than an hour on the lower floor, wandering from stall to stall, nibbling this and sipping that, until Janice's stomach began to complain of the variety and spiciness of the foods it was being forced to digest. So they stopped at a drink seller's stand, had a sangria the juices for which were squeezed before their eyes, and sat in the shade, fanning themselves and feeling the first light giddiness produced by the combination of the heat and the potent wine punch.
"Oh, John," Janice exclaimed as she drained the remains of her drink, "this is such a marvelous place, I've never seen anything like it. Thank you so much for taking me here, for showing it to me." She knew, of course, that she would have found the market herself sooner or later, and probably sooner, but she was genuinely grateful to him. He really had been nice to her, she thought boozily, and even if he was old and fat and corny, she had no cause to think of him unkindly. Impulsively, she reached out and took his hand. "I mean it, John," she said, a sudden quiet urgency in her voice; "I really am grateful to you."
"Think nothing of it, sweetie," he said, giving her hand an affectionate squeeze. "I know what it's like to be alone in a foreign country, and I know that it's a lot harder for a young girl than for an old man like me. You just never know who you're going to run up against in Mexico."
"Or anywhere," Janice said softly.
"Or anywhere," Farr agreed. "So you just stay next to old Johnny and everything will work out just fine, believe me." He leaned for-ward until his face was only a few inches from hers. "If I had a daughter," he said in a confidential tone, "I'd want her to grow up to be just like you."
But Janice hardly heard this last sentence. Somehow the conversation had made her think of David, and since the sangria had broken down some of the defensive barriers she had built up over the past few weeks, she was suddenly flooded with nostalgia and sadness. Oh David, she thought, what am I doing here with-out you? Why did I leave? Why couldn't you see that I loved you, and that all I wanted was to be allowed to love you? Oh David, I wish so much that you were here to share this with me; you'd love it so....
"Shall we adjourn to the tourist section?" Farr said, interrupting Janice's tipsy nostalgia. It was as if someone had poured ice water on the back of a terrible sunburn. Janice shook herself back into the present, smiled weakly at Farr, said "Of course; let's go."
He took her by the arm and led her to the upper story of the market, which was really nothing more than a broad, four-sided balustrade overlooking the food sellers' stalls below.
Here there were leather purses and belts and jackets, some of the same poor quality and craftsmanship that Janice had seen in import-export stores at home, but some much finer; hand woven ponchos and chalekos in every color and pattern imaginable; wrought iron and blown glass lanterns, blue and yellow and gold; marvelous Mexican-Indian silver jewelry, brooches in the shapes of mythical animals and birds with bright turquoise and agate eyes, ornamental necklaces and bracelets done in intricate silver filigree; boots and juaraches, the finest Janice had ever seen; and thousands upon thousands of red and brown clay bowls and pots and dishes, all decorated in characteristically symmetrical Indian patterns; hand-woven rugs and blankets which Janice inspected to find the one thread that ran out to the edge of the rug, the "gate" through which the spirits were allowed to escape at will. Every-thing fascinated her. She touched, inspected, fondled, and rubbed while John Farr stood bemusedly in the background, whistling a waiting tune and taking off his hat to wipe the day's sweat from his forehead. Eventually there was a slow flurry of activity among the sellers-blankets were drawn in front of the stalls and wooden slats went up, all indicating the closing of the market for the midday siesta.
"It's getting to be lazy time," Farr said, with just a hint of relief in his voice. "The market's closing for the afternoon, and I think we ought to do the same. I'll get you a cab to take you back to the hotel, and you can go sleep off your sangria."
Janice nodded silently. She hadn't realized it, but they'd already spent several hours in the market, and although she knew she had only scratched the surface of its treasures, she now found herself nearly completely worn down from the heat and the activity. The prospect of an afternoon nap sounded very pleasant, at least so long as her sleep wasn't invaded by anonymous bruising lovers.
Farr hailed a cab, put Janice inside, and gave the driver the name of the hotel. As the taxi was about to pull away, he leaned in the window and said, "Tonight we see about getting you a job. I'll pick you up at the hotel about nine o'clock."
"Thank you, John," Janice yelled out the window as the cab spun into the street. She settled back against the leather seats, thinking idly about her good fortune in meeting John Farr. Then her thoughts slipped away from her, and by the time they reached the hotel, Janice was fast asleep in the back seat of the taxi.
"Ay, la gringa," the driver muttered under his breath as he shook Janice's shoulder. "Senorita! Senorita, levantese! Nos lleqamos!"
CHAPTER FOUR
Janice had awakened from her siesta feeling relaxed and refreshed, and when John Farr arrived to pick her up she gave him an affectionate smile and a warm greeting. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she was genuinely grateful to him-he had kept her so busy that she hadn't had time to sit around thinking morbid thoughts about David, and that in itself was cause for gratitude.
"Good evening, John," she said, making her voice convey the new affection she felt for the old man.
"Hiya, Janice," he responded. "You look intoxicating."
"'ing' or 'ed'?" she asked with a grin.
"Right now, definitely 'ing;' and we'll see now what we can do about the 'ed.' Let's shake it," he said, breaking into his tango again.
She giggled and followed him out into the street. When they had taken a seat inside the taxicab, Janice asked him where they were going.
"To the Besame Bajo," he replied; "swingingest little joint in Guanajuato, and the best floor show, absolutely."
"I thought we were going to see about a job for me," she said.
"Exactly," Farr responded. He looked over at her and grinned. In the dark of the cab Janice could not tell whether the grin was friendly or whether it was something else.
"You mean you're going to get me a job in a night club, a Mexican night club?" she asked incredulously. She had heard about Mexican night clubs from her friends at the School, and from what they had said she was not at all sure that she even wanted to go in one, let alone work there. Stories of girls and donkeys....
"Sure," Farr said. "Haven't you ever been a cocktail waitress?"
"No."
He looked at her in amusement. "Well," he said, "it's high time you learned a trade. Besides, cocktail jobs are the only ones available to girls in Guanajuato. Look, don't worry about it, the Besame Bajo's a nice clean place, not like the ones you've heard about-everything's on the up and up."
"Well," she said doubtfully, "if you say so...."
"I say so," said Farr. "Just relax and let me take care of everything."
The cab pulled to a sudden stop in front of a low, one story building, and Janice realized abruptly that they were in a part of Guanajuato that didn't appear in any of the tourist folders. Although the street was dark, a peculiar smell in the air told Janice that they were in the poorer section of town. I don't know why I'm so shocked, she said to herself; I suppose every town has to have its ghetto. But still, she was somewhat taken aback by the ominous dark atmosphere surrounding the Besame Bajo.
Her first look at the inside of the place did nothing to dispel her apprehension. For one thing, it was brightly lit, whereas all her experience had trained her to believe that the darker the bar, the more exclusive its clientele. For another, there seemed to be very few women in the audience-almost everyone seated at the tables was a man, and an older man at that. "Looks like a senior citizen's whorehouse," Janice said to herself. There was a small stage in one corner of the room, and a bar that ran the full length of the wall opposite. What was most unusual, though, was the fact that there was no conversation going on in the room-everyone seemed to be waiting for something special to happen.
"Show's about to start," said Farr, leaning over to whisper in her ear. "We're just in time."
A fat bald man who looked like Farr's Mexican counterpart came scurrying across the floor to greet them. "Senor Farr!" he said exuberantly. "I'm glad you could come."
"Thank you, Paco," Farr replied, shaking the man's hand. "Glad we could make it." He turned to Janice. "Miss Ayers," he said in a formal tone that seemed oddly out of place in this shabby night club, "this is Paco Lopez, owner of the Besame Bajo. Paco, this is Janice Ayers, the young lady I mentioned to you earlier."
"How do you do," said Janice coldly.
"And how do you do, Miss Ayers?" the little man said, taking Janice by the arm and guiding her toward one of the tables closest to the stage. "John tells me you are looking for a job, yes?"
"Well...." Janice stammered.
"There is always a place in my club for a lady as lovely as you," he said, showing her two gold teeth as he smiled at her. "But we can talk about that later. For now, please be seated and enjoy the show." He held out a chair for her, and Janice sat down, wondering what in heaven's name she was doing there.
Farr came up and took a seat next to her. "Don't be put off by the looks of the place," he said. "The Besame Bajo has an international reputation, and the girls who work here make incredible money in tips; you'll see."
Farr stopped talking and directed his attention to the stage as all of a sudden a bright red light went on and a very attractive mulatto girl of about 28 appeared in front of it. The light gave her skin a coppery glow which complemented the tight-fitting white satin gown she was wearing. The gown was cut low and revealed a full, firm bronze bosom with marvelous cleavage. She wore long white gloves, dangling sparkly earrings which were barely visible from underneath her perfectly coiffed black hair. The drums started a rapid, monotonous beat and she began to chant a Mexican love song which wasn't very good.
"Singing is not her major talent," Farr said, "so don't worry, you won't have to listen to that all night. It's just that she thinks she can sing, so Paco lets her do a number or two before she goes into her real act."
Janice nodded politely and wondered just what her act was, but she could imagine that it would involve stripping, and she thought she'd probably be terribly bored; at least, that had been her reaction when David had taken her to a strip joint in the city.
When she finished her song, which seemed to last for hours, she glided languidly about the stage, moving back and forth in time to the beat of the drums. She moved as though she were caught up in a jellied substance, swaying so that you could see every curve of her body ripple under the clinging gown. Her hips undulated sensuously backwards and forwards as though she were making love to some imaginary man in front of her. She went through some contortions with her body that Janice would have thought impossible in such a restricting outfit, but as the drums increased their rhythm she moved faster and faster. The spotlight followed her across the small stage, and when she reached the side nearest to where they were sitting she reached behind her and teasingly released the hooks at the waist of her gown.
The soft material fell carelessly around her ankles, revealing her long, firm legs which were now completely bare except for a thin, net-like covering over her pubic region, yet gave the impression that she had nothing on. As she moved across to the other end of the stage, you could see the cheeks of her buttocks bounce slightly as she undulated her hips in a snake-like fashion. At the other side she released the top half of her gown and that, too, fell to the floor. A gasp of appreciation went up from the other half of the room as the material dropped, and when she turned her breasts were completely bare except for the same net covering, with a few tassels to hide the taut nipples of her high, firm, bronze breasts. Her arms were still covered by the gloves, and this seemed to enhance her sensuality as she glided from one end of the platform to the other. The tassels which barely covered her luscious breasts caressed the softness of her bosom as she walked, with the proud, pointed nipples swaying gently to the rhythm of the music. The filmy net which covered her pubic mound seemed to lay lightly over the tops of her thighs, but it was raised in back so that the fullness of ripe sensuous but-tocks was clearly visible. She moved suggestively, lewdly, as though she were a living sex goddess. Her whole body was controlled by sexual tension, and she knew that each move she made was drawing attention to the fact that she was a sensual, perfectly built woman and she knew how to use her body. She revolved slowly around the stage, giving everyone just enough of a suggestive glimpse to arouse even the most stoical. She let her hands slide up her body and cradle her voluptuous, golden breasts so that all could enjoy a better view of their firmness and supple fullness. As her hands slid down her body, she pulled gently at the tassels which had been covering the taut, pinkish nipples of her bosom, and she tossed them to the floor. For a moment she stood there, a slight film of perspiration forming on her skin that gave her a warm, reddish glow, and the audience could view her proud, pointed breasts as they hung completely free and naked before them.
Her movements were graceful, deliberate, and sensual, her hips pulsating and grinding in time with the music or in time with an imaginary lover. Her whole body glistened in the red glow of the lights as she swayed to and fro, slithering across the stage.
Janice glanced over at John, who was busy trying to hide the obvious bulge in his trousers with one hand, while he sipped a drink with the other.
Disgusting, she thought, but she couldn't take her eyes off this sexy girl as she sauntered with calculated movements across the platform. The spotlight was slowly changing from a red to a purplish and finally a blue light as it followed her while she moved. The light was becoming slightly brighter, and when it reached the full beam, it revealed that she had removed the net covering over her thighs and the only thing which now covered her loins was a G-string made of pearls.
She began to move slowly down the steps of the stage and out into the darkened room where the tables were, the light following her the whole time. The drums began to increase the rhythm, and her undulations became more and more violent, until it seemed as though she were in the throes of an orgasm. The lighting changed rapidly with the beat of the drums, accentuating first her thrusting breasts and pulsating belly, then her loins which were pushed forward and wide spread as she rocked back and forth in time with the music. She wiggled onto one of the tables closest to the stage, and her breasts were flaunted sexily in the face of a man who could no longer control his excited breathing. She wiggled about on the table, giving the people in front of her a revealing view of her wide-spread thighs as she went through lewd and erotic contortions. Her whole body seemed to be vibrating and pulsating like a jackhammer, her hands exploring every luscious curve of her fully rounded, sensual body. They ran over the curve of her breasts, the swell of her hips, and rested invitingly at the V of her mound. She kicked her legs high in the air as she got down from the table and moved slowly back onto the stage. For a moment she stood there, her hands on her hips, giving every-one a last look, then turned and the spotlight went out.
You could hear the rapid breathing all around the room, and the occasional sound of a zipper being adjusted. Farr appeared to have regained his composure, although a faint trace of perspiration showed on his forehead. He was drumming his fingers on the table top, maintaining the rhythm of the drums even though the music had stopped.
"Whew!" Janice exclaimed. "That was really something! I never expected it to be that good." Her whole body was tingling with excitement from the dancer's sensual display, and she found herself crossing her legs to keep the thin trickle of sexual fluid that was moistening her crotch from running down onto the floor. She never would have imagined that she could be so turned on by another woman's actions, but there was no denying it, the beautiful mulatto girl had certainly aroused her.
"She is good, isn't she?" Farr rasped out. "And you may not believe it, but that girl comes from Eureka, California."
"Really?" said Janice in surprise. "What's she doing here?"
"Same thing as you, I imagine," Farr replied, "trying to forget something. If you take the job here, you'll probably get to know her, and I imagine the two of you would have lots to talk about."
"Hmmm," was all Janice could say.
At that moment a young girl who also looked like an American came over to wait on their table. She didn't look to be much over twenty, Janice's own age, and she didn't seem to be the least bit embarrassed by the skimpy costume that she wore. The top was so brief that it looked as if the girl would come right out of it, and the leotard bottom half was cut so that it revealed the greater amount of her full, young buttocks.
"Good evening, Mr. Farr," she said. "Good to have you back for awhile."
"Thank you, Linda, nice to see you, and I must say that you're looking fine, just fine. Meet Janice, she may be lucky enough to get a job here, if I have any pull with the management, that is." He laughed good-humoredly.
"I'm sure you can arrange something, you always do," she answered half-sarcastically. "Now, will you be having something to drink?" Farr ordered two banana daiquiris, then leaned back in his chair to watch Linda as she sashayed toward the bar, her buttocks swinging as if they rode on an oiled ball and socket. He watched her in silence for a moment, then turned to Janice and said, "That's Linda, an-other American; from Milwaukee, I believe. I got her her job here too."
"You certainly seem to have a lot of influence in Guanajuato," Janice said.
"Not influence, sweetie, just a lot of close friendships. These men-Humberto and Paco and several others-have been friends of mine for years and years. I was one of the first Americans to come to Guanajuato, you know.
You might say I was her discoverer. And I've brought these gentlemen a lot of American business, for which they are, needless to say, very grateful."
"I'm impressed," Janice said wryly.
"No need to be impressed, sweetheart; all I want is your gratitude."
"And that you have," Janice said.
Linda brought them their drinks, and immediately afterwards Paco Lopez came gliding up to their table.
"Sit down, Paco, sit down," Farr said in a loud voice. "It's been a long time since we've had a chance to talk."
"That's true, John," said the little man, "but first I would like to have a word with your lovely young friend." He turned to Janice and favored her with a golden-toothed smile. "Well, young lady," he said, "how did you like the show?"
"Peachy," said Janice.
"That means favorable, I suppose; I never could keep up with American slang. So, what do you think about coming to work for me?" Janice hesitated. Although she had enjoyed the show, and although the drinks were delicious, she wasn't quite sure whether she wanted to do this sort of work, especially in this particular club. For one thing, there was its sleazy, sex-tainted atmosphere, which, although she didn't object to it in principle, still made her feel a bit ill at ease. And there was also the sarcasm and self-defeat in the voice of the girl who had waited on them-something about her tone suggested that she was as much a prisoner as she was a waitress. Nevertheless, she thought, John had been so good to her, almost like a father, and it seemed so important to him that she take the job-she did want to repay his kindness, after all-that she really didn't hesitate too long.
"I'd like the job," she said, smiling at Lopez. "Good!" the Mexican beamed. "Come back tomorrow afternoon then, and get fitted for your costume. For now, I must see to my other clients. John, thank you very much for coming and for introducing me to this lovely lady. I'm sure she'll work out just fine."
"Me too," said Farr. "See you later, Paco. Hasta la vista."
Janice was suddenly feeling very tired, and more than a little unsure of herself. She excused herself and headed in the direction of what she assumed was the ladies' room. On the way she passed the dressing room for the girls who worked there, and overheard the following partial conversation:
"I wonder if Farr will throw another one of his special parties tonight?"
"If he does, I hope I don't get invited. I couldn't walk for a week after the last one."
"I wonder where he ran across that new little sweetie he brought in here."
"Don't know where he met her, but I sure as hell know where she'll end up."
At that moment the door closed, and Janice was unable to hear any of the rest of the conversation. It bothered her; she wondered what they meant by "special party," and "know where she'll end up." There was something about this whole place that didn't ring true to her, and she was beginning to think that she might have made a mistake by accepting the job so quickly. Oh well, she thought as she continued on her way to the ladies room, I'll find out more about it tomorrow; and if I don't like it I can always quit.
CHAPTER FIVE
The next afternoon John Farr appeared to drive Janice to the Besame Baja. They rode in silence through the town, Janice staring distractedly out the window as she tried to decide what she would do if she didn't like the place. For his part, Farr seemed much more serious and quiet than usual, as if something important had come along to rob him of his characteristic corny good humor. In reality he was thinking, "just a few more minutes and I've got her; then she'll never be able to get away." His loins were already beginning to twitch as he thought of her delectable nude body laid out in front of him, there to use as he pleased.
When they arrived in front of the club, Jan-ice was about to tell him that she'd changed her mind, but Paco came out and met them at the car.
"Come in, come in," he said enthusiastically, taking Janice by the hand and leading her through the door into the now dimly-lit interior of the club. Three of the girls that Janice had seen the evening before were sitting at the bar drinking lemonade, and Paco took her over to introduce her to them.
"Welcome to the carcel," one of them said, but before Janice could ask her what that meant Paco shot her a piercing look, so that she lowered her eyes quickly and mumbled something about, "it's really not that bad; I was just kidding." This introduction made Janice all the more queasy, but she decided to stick it out a little longer.
After a few drinks of something that was stronger than lemonade but just as sour, the girls took her into the wardrobe room and found her a costume that would fit with only a minimum of alteration.
"Don't you think it's a little ... um ... constricting in the bust?" Janice asked.
"That's the way they like it, sweetie," one of the girls chimed in. "The more tit they see the better the tips. And with your set," she added, "you ought to make out very well indeed." The girls were all trying to be very friendly, but Janice could sense the tension in the air. Finally one of the girls who had been quiet up to this point said, "Listen, I don't know how you got involved with our charming Mr. Farr, but sweetie, if you still think you have a chance to get out, then take it!" The other girls looked at her and told her to lower her voice or Paco would hear.
"I don't care," she continued. "She seems like a nice kid and I hate to see her fall into this rat hole. Believe me, once you're in it there's no getting out, and it isn't exactly a sauna bath." Janice started to ask her what she meant, when suddenly the room went silent, for Mr. Farr and Paco were standing at the door.
"You talk too much, Liza, get out into the other room," Farr ordered.
Janice couldn't believe that the man who'd been so nice to her was ordering the other girls around in such a rough voice. His eyes were narrowed and it was obvious that he was angry and not to be disobeyed. Liza quickly left the room and went back into the bar.
"I'll deal with her," Paco said with a sadistic tone in his voice.
When they were gone, one of the other girls turned to Janice and said, "Liza's right, sweetie. If you don't get out of here before Farr's party tonight you're going to be screwed, blewed, and tattoed; but mostly the first."
Janice gasped in disbelief at what she was hearing and dazedly made her way into the other room. She quickly told Farr and Paco that although she appreciated their offer of a job, she had decided to return to art school and wouldn't be able to take it.
They just looked at her and laughed. Then Farr said, "I'm sorry, sugar, but you can't turn back now. You see, you have no choice in the matter. You're going to work here, live where we tell you and do as we say." His voice had turned icy cruel and she could see a strange, sadistic glint in his expression. She started to run for the door, but she was stopped by ... JAIME! What was he doing here? Then she realized that Farr, Paco, Jamie and probably Humberto Fuentes too were all involved in this awful conspiracy together, and that's what the girls had been discussing last night. She sat down in the chair closest to the door, started to cry and plead with them to let her go.
"I'm afraid that we can't do that now," said Farr; "you know much too much about our operation. But here, have a drink and you'll feel better."
Jamie walked to the bar and mixed her a drink, then sat it down in front of her, never taking his eyes off her for one moment.
"Drink this," he ordered. "You'll feel better ... much better!" All the men laughed.
The drink was made with mescal, she could tell by the odor, and she was hesitant to drink it, but the warmth of the alcohol began to make her feel a little better, and she thought, if I get drunk they can't make me work, so I may as well drink myself senseless.
She finished the first drink and Jaime brought her another, which she also downed quickly. Soon she began to feel a little dizzy, and she could feel a strange warmth creeping through her body, settling in her loins in an erotic sort of tingling. Someone in the club turned on some Afro-Cuban music, and she found it difficult to keep still, she wanted to get up ... move ... move to the sensual rhythms that seemed to fill the room. The men began to eye her from their part of the room, and they sensed what was happening. They knew that the mescal would begin to take effect and then they would have their fun and she would love it, but they wanted to watch her squirm for awhile before they played their hand.
She started tapping her fingers on the table top in time with the music, and moving back and forth in her seat. She felt as if her whole body were on fire and she couldn't put it out. The burning sensation was in her breasts, and she could feel her nipples becoming erect involuntarily, her thighs quivering and a tension beginning to build in her loins. Finally, she couldn't bear to sit still any longer and she began to move around the room, between the tables, swaying in a suggestive, sensual manner until she reached the table where the men were sitting.
She stood in front of them, undulating her hips and running her hands over her body, and she could feel her desire burning even through her clothing. The men looked up and laughed maliciously, "What's the matter, sweetheart, something turn you on all of a sudden, or have you decided to become cooperative?" She just looked down at them until they were no longer men, just three huge phallic symbols sitting there, and they had something that she wanted ... and needed! She had never felt this way before; she didn't know what was happening to her! Then she remembered the first night she had spent in Guanajuato and wondered if this was what had happened to her. Jaime had made the drinks, and she knew that she had made violent love to someone, but she couldn't remember who that someone was. This was different, in that she was in complete control of her mind; she knew what she was doing and she knew who the men were, but she had no control over her body!
She weaved back and forth around the table, caressing each man first on the back of his neck, letting her fingers trace a light pattern down the nape of the neck and around to their ears, tickling them lightly.
"I think our new recruit is trying to tell us something," Farr laughed sarcastically.
"Humberto had her the other night," Jaime interjected, "let me be the first today."
Farr pondered it for a moment and then grinned at the others. "Why not?" he said. "But you're going to have an audience. I want you to make her squirm and beg for it. If you can do that, she's yours first."
Jaime smiled a toothy smile, got up from the table, and walked around behind Janice, letting his hands move around to her front and sensuously down over her full breasts and the curve of her undulating hips as she still moved in time to the beat of the music. His fingers began to slowly unbutton the thin cotton blouse she was wearing, until he was able to slide it easily off down her shoulders, so that she stood before the group with just her scanty lace brassiere covering her breasts. Her full, soft orbs more than filled the material that was binding them, and her white breasts protruded proudly from beneath the cloth. His hands then found the zipper on her skirt, and he unhooked it until it slipped easily to the floor. She kept moving her body as though she were in a trance while he was undressing her so that his hands would touch her every curve. The brown of his hands against her white belly made a sensuous contrast to the excited onlookers. She wiggled her hips in a snake-like fashion, accentuating the bulge of her pubic mound which was covered only by sheer bikini panties and the thin elastic of her garter belt, which held her stockings taut over the smoothness of her thighs and calves.
The slight bulge of her thighs was more de-fined by the tightness of her silk stockings, and you could see the firm sleekness of her legs in contrast. Jaime let one hand slip inside the lace of her brassiere and pulled one breast free from the confines of the non-resisting cloth. The pink nipple was already erect, and he pinched it firmly, making her twist underneath his caress. Her eyes were half-closed as he looked down at the other two men sitting at the table while they watched her, but she seemed completely unaware of what was happening, her eyes glazed and unseeing.
Farr called to Liza, the girl he had asked to leave the other room, and ordered her to come join them at the table. She was reluctant, but realizing that she had no choice, she took her seat between the two men and reluctantly watched the lewd spectacle going on before them.
Janice was writhing violently, even though she was still standing; and when she tried to turn to desperately press her body against that of the giant Mexican, his hands held her firmly in place. His fingers deftly released the hook of her brassiere and let it fall carelessly to the floor, so that everyone could see the ripe, full firmness of her sensuous breasts. He stroked the soft, sensuous bulbs tenderly at first, and then more roughly, caressing and pinching the vulnerable nipples into an even more erect hardness. The heat that was racing through her body was becoming almost unbearable, and she could feel the hugeness of his cock as he dug his hips into the supple roundness of her but-tocks. She wanted to take his cruel weapon in her hands and in her mouth and make him want her as much as she needed him ... now! But he had to continue his tantalizing teasing of her body until she would beg him to fuck her. That was part of the deal. Then she felt his hand on her leg. He stroked the stockinged thigh and calf, digging his fingers into it then holding it lightly as if he wanted to get the feel of it more fully. His hand moved up over her knee and continued up to the thigh, advancing slowly until he reached the point where the silk covering ceded to soft, smooth, warm flesh. His prick was jerking underneath the tightness of his trousers, but he didn't want to take his hands off this lust-crazed voluptuous young girl. Farr sensed his desire and ordered Liza to unzip his pants and free his huge pulsating cudgel so that he could reach full erection. Slowly she moved alongside Jaime and began to unbutton and unzip his trousers so that his gigantic cock could jerk freely against the soft silk of Janice's panties. While Liza busied herself in undoing Jaime's pants, he fumbled with the hook which held Janice's stockings, and unfastening them, let the garter belt hang down loose. His fingers found the elastic legband of her panties and he shoved two fingers cruelly up inside to fondle at the soft fleshy lips of her cunt. His one finger found the hard, tiny bud of her clitoris and rubbed it harshly, bringing increased movement and gasping moans from her lips.
"I've got to have you," she gasped. "Now ... please ... do it to me!"
The other men laughed at her pleas while the huge Mexican sadistically teased her body into a greater and greater passion. She was like a wild animal that was caged and in heat. Her fingernails were digging into her own thighs in an effort to free herself from all her clothing, but he held her firmly between his legs and inserted a long probing finger into the depths of her already moist vaginal passage. She squirmed about on his twisting hand clamped between her legs like a limbo dancer, erotically, lewdly.
Liza had succeeded in lowering Jaime's trousers, and his hard, menacing penis was jerking automatically upwards against the brownness of his stomach. Janice could feel the hard bulge pulsing against her buttocks and she wanted to reach it, hold it and caress it. She tried desperately to reach down between her legs to grab it, and as she bent over in an effort to massage his huge weapon, Farr reached out and began to fondle her luscious swaying breasts as they hung downward over the table. He pinched harshly at the tender nipples, and she thought she would go insane from desire. Then he switched his eyes to Liza and barked to her, "Suck him, Liza! Get him harder!" Liza had taken Jaime's cock and held it so that Janice in her struggle could not reach it; and as she bent downward she could see Liza take his gigantic organ in her mouth and begin to suck feverishly at the long, pulsating tool.
The sight of the other girl's milk-white face mouthing the long brown instrument that was to be giving her pleasure only increased her wanton, lustful desire.
"I think our little lady is about ready for anything," Farr choked out maliciously. "Why don't you bend her over the table so we can all have a good look at what she has to offer?"
Jaime reluctantly withdrew his fingers from her hot, wet cunt and tore the stockings and briefs from her legs so that she was now completely naked and vulnerable to their hands and eyes. Liza's nibbling mouth had aroused Jaime almost to the breaking point, so he slipped his prick from between her lips and let it jerk outward in the warm air so that he would not climax before he had sunk it deep inside this beautiful, exciting American girl's pussy.
Farr pulled her shoulders down until her soft, resilient breasts were nearly crushed against the rough, splintery hardness of the table, and looking up at the huge Mexican, he said with an evil grin on his face:
"I believe she's still a virgin back there, Jaime. Wouldn't it be a nice tight fit?" He was breathing hard just thinking about the atrocities that they could perform on this girl in the state she was in, and she would still be begging for more. In fact after Jaime had had her, he thought eagerly that he just might take a turn himself in a more conventional manner.
Jaime dug his fingers cruelly into the soft inner part of her thighs and pulled her legs roughly apart, so that she was bending down over the table almost spread-eagled in front of him. The soft, white moons of her buttocks waved salaciously back at him as he slowly pressed his loins forward toward her. She could feel the hard, bulbous tip of his mammoth rod as it jerked violently against the soft white crease in her buttocks. He grinned down, and using his hand as a guide probed the hard blood-filled head of his cock against the sensitive puckered mouth of her tight, tiny anus.
"Oh God," she thought, "he can't put it in there, it won't fit and my vagina is so on fire ... I won't be able to stand it! God, I won't be able to stand it!"
"N-nooooo, not there," she stammered. "I want you to fuck me ... just FUCK me right ... I can't take you there, you're too big."
But the lewdly grinning Mexican paid no attention to her pleas, and he bent his knees slightly in order to get better leverage for his entry into her soft, virginal back passage waving defenselessly beneath his hands.
Farr was delighting in the degradation and humiliation to which he was submitting this young girl, and he wanted to see the look of fear and horror on her face when Jaime rammed his giant tool into the soft confines of her rectum and impaled her to the very depths of her belly. He wanted to see this triumph, and turned her face roughly on the table, scratching her slightly on the cheek. He ordered her to open her eyes. The obscenely excited Janice had never been so humiliated and shamed in her life, and small wet tears were beginning to run slowly down her cheeks. The desire that was burning in her loins was being stifled some-what by the shame and horror of what was going to happen to her. Jaime moved up firmly against her and she could feel his fingers digging cruelly into the crevice of her buttocks as he pressed outward with his thumbs and separated the soft tensing cheeks.
"Relax, baby, and it won't hurt," he panted excitedly behind her, "because you're going to get it whether you like it or not."
She clenched her fists tightly together and gritted her teeth in order to endure the expected pain, and then she thought she would faint as she felt the first pressure of his huge, hardened organ as he tried to insert the throbbing, blood-red head of his cock into her tiny, cringing anal passage.
"Christ ... she's tight ... this isn't going to be easy," he grunted.
He could feel the foreskin being stretched back against the long, thick shaft of his penis, and he gave a quick, hip-thrusting stab until he could feel it slowly slipping its way into her rectum.
"Aaaaaaaaggggggghhhhh ... nooooooo ... STOP," she groaned through her tears, her face contorted with pain. "You're killing me ... you're killing me!"
She wished that she could pass out and blot out the thought of that great brown thing worming its way into the softness of her quivering buttocks, but Farr was rubbing an ice cube over her face in order to keep her conscious and fully aware of what was happening. He wanted her to miss none of it, and he drooled taunting obscenities into her ear as the Mexican burrowed his way further and further into her.
"How would you like your lover, David, to see you now, my little pigeon," he gloated. "Bet he's never fucked you in the ass like this, heh heh."
Jaime was straining and grunting as he thrust further and further, deeper and deeper into the tight, elastic hole, until he thought that his whole penis would burst. The tightness of the soft rubbery flesh grasping around his cock was about to bring him to a premature climax.
To Janice it seemed that his organ was right up inside her belly, tearing her insides completely apart, and she pleaded as she had never pleaded before.
"Please stop ... pllllleeeeease," she moaned, but he did not relent in the cruel rape of her anus. It was the tightest passage he had ever known, and he wasn't going to stop now, not now when it was so close to the blinding end.
And suddenly, before another moment had passed, he could feel the fire in his loins begin to build to an exploding crescendo, and he thrust deeper into her, more cruelly with each buttock-flattening jerk as he went into the throes of his own orgasm.
"Dios ... yyyesssss I'm coming ... coming ... NOW!" he screamed like a wild animal, and Janice bending before him could feel the hot, boiling liquid of his sperm as it spurted deep into her upturned back passage. Oh God, I'll burst, I'll burst, ran helter-skelter through her tortured mind, and she could feel every contraction of his penis as he jerked out his brutal satisfaction deep up inside her belly.
Finally she felt his bludgeoning tool become soft in her forever-stretched rectum, and he began to withdraw his satiated penis from the sperm-flooded opening. When he was finally completely out of her, he fell back into the nearest chair in order to catch his breath. A slight trickle of semen was running down the back of her thighs, glistening obscenely in the afternoon light. Her legs had no strength left in them, and she fell to her knees on the floor, sobbing in pain and humiliation at what had just been done to her. She doubled up in a fetal position in order to relieve the burning pain in her stomach. She lay there sobbing helplessly for a few minutes, until finally she was aware of Farr grabbing her roughly under the arms and hauling her back into an upright position once more.
He pushed her harshly onto the table on her back, and she was too weak to fight him. She opened her eyes slightly and saw that he was grinning over her with a strange excited gleam in his eyes, and even though he had not bothered to remove his trousers, his rigid penis was throbbing upwards outside of his already-opened fly. He ordered Paco to hold her head and shoulders so that the lush round softness of her buttocks were hanging slightly over the edge of the table. He had grabbed her ankles and held them out in the air on either side of him so that her loins glistened, open and defenseless before his lewd gaze. He moved up to her excitedly, so that he could feel the soft flesh of her inner thighs brushing against his trousers, just close enough so that his hardened prick barely brushed against her vaginal lips and nipped at the clitoris, sending a new sensation of desire rippling through her. Her vagina had been denied its fulfillment with the lewd sodomy, and now he was going to tease her into an erotic frenzy again, before he would finally consent to fuck her. She didn't realize that men could be so cruel, and wished again that she might die, but as she looked down at his obscenely pulsing rod, she felt a tightness grow between her legs. He laughed at her and said, "You'd like that right now, wouldn't you?" She was unable to speak, and just soft mewling sounds of helpless passion rose involuntarily in her chest. The softness of her breasts quivered and stood firm in the air in spite of the fact that she was lying on her back.
He let his prick jerk teasingly against the soft hair-lined lips of her pussy for a few moments, and then he bent over so that his mouth was just inches away from her lust-starved cunt. He let his tongue part the soft, sparse pubic hair and lick softly at first against her already erect, stiff clitoris, rubbing it harder and harder with each stroke. His teeth nibbled relentlessly at the passion-inflamed lips of her vagina, until she was writhing on the table in lewd, erotic contortions, her hips grinding out of control like a belly dancer. She tried to free her arms so that she could reach down and hold his head firmly against the starved, throbbing passage between her wide-held legs, but Paco was holding her too firmly.
Finally, after a seeming eternity, Farr raised himself up again, saying, "Man, she is ready." He pulled her legs completely apart so that she was open and he could bury his shaft into her on the very first thrust. Her hips were bucking up off the table in a passionate, lustful frenzy, and he grabbed her underneath her buttocks, raising them from the table, and rammed his stiff, pulsating cock deep into the depths of her vagina.
"Ooooooohhhhh, God! God!" she groaned in welcome relief.
His thrust had almost taken her breath away, and she felt wet, hot and vulnerable with that space between her legs. Her passion was beyond control, and she really wanted it now and wanted it deep. She would have gone mad if he had left her now, and she begged him to fuck her harder.
"Harder ... harder ... fuck me deeper ... ohhh yess...." she groaned in her lust.
He raised her hips slightly for better leverage and pushed his trembling rod as deep as it would go, and still she begged for more. He could feel the walls of her vagina close and release around the hot thickness of his cock, and he knew that he would not be able to hold out much longer before he spewed his hot liquid sperm far up into that screaming little belly.
"Oh, baby, you're hot ... so hot and so good," he panted.
He was scrambling and shoving to get farther and farther inside her hot, wet passage, as if he were going to pierce her heart with his penis. His hips danced against her upturned buttocks, and she pulled her thighs higher off the table. She could feel the contractions of her vagina as she was about to come, and she bit her lips at the delicious thought of that final, all-consuming satisfaction that would come in the barest of moments ... and it did!
NOW!" she gasped. "Give it to me now! Now! ... NOWWWWWwwwww."
Her words excited him into an uncontrollable surge, and he could feel the contractions in his throbbing penis as he began to spew his sperm deep into the open contracting well of her womb.
"Yes ... here it is ... now ... I'm coming. I'm giving it to you now ... NOW!" And he jerked out his fitful orgasm, emptying himself completely inside her When he had finished, he fell exhaustedly on top of her on the table, letting the final drops of semen trickle to the floor. She was still panting, trying to catch her breath, when he got up and walked nonchalantly into the men's room to clean himself.
She started to doze right there on the table in an exhausted and troubled sleep, when Liza gently shook her and told her to come into the wardrobe room to get cleaned and she could rest there.
The other girls were all sitting around, smoking cigarettes and talking, trying to avoid the subject of what had just happened. They knew that it took time to mellow these things or harden you to the point where degradation and humiliation no longer mattered, so they just continued talking when Janice came in and went to the shower and to a cot to lie down.
In just a few minutes she was sound asleep, and one of the girls said, "That poor girl, now she's really one of the troop. I wonder how long she'll be able to take it?"
CHAPTER SIX
The next few weeks at the club seemed to dull her senses, until she felt as though she were just an animal at their disposal. It seemed that she was the target for all their sadism, but the girls assured her that this would pass as soon as they found another new girl for the ranks. The newest girls always got the roughest time, because of the novelty, but once they became hardened into the routine it was no longer any fun for the men, because they couldn't get the same horrified reaction to their sexual depravities from them.
She was allowed to stay at the hotel for the time being until they could find an empty place for her with one of the other girls, but she wished that she could have moved immediately, because Humberto was paying her nightly visits and his aberrations in sex were unbelievable.
She never knew that people could get their kicks in such cruel and perverse ways. She had lost track of the things he had made her do to him and the things he had done to her in return. The worst part of it was that with each nightly session he had made her drink more and more of the lust-inspiring mescal, until she was groveling like a wild bitch in heat, and she actually enjoyed the lewd perversities he would then foist upon her.
And if her nights were a torture chamber, her days were little better. Usually she was so tired from her work at the Besame Bajo and from her sexual excursions with Humberto that she slept until early afternoon, then spent the rest of the day moping about the hotel in a semi-coma until it was time to go back to work. She could have gone out during the daytime, she supposed, she could have sculpted or shopped or gone to the desert, but it was so hot in the afternoon that five minutes out in the sun was all it took to send her limping back to bed. Besides, Farr and Humberto had her watched so carefully that she could not even enjoy the illusion of freedom when she went outside-everywhere she went, there was a conspicuously inconspicuous Mexican standing nearby, keeping an eye on her.
She was a prisoner, there was no doubt about it.
Time passed and still there was no word from David. In her most lucid moments she realized that she had no right to expect him to contact her. He didn't know where she was, for one thing, and even if he did he probably had no interest in searching for someone who had walked out on him without saying so much as a word of good-bye. Moreover, either Humberto or Jaime was constantly stationed at the hotel desk, and they certainly were not going to allow her any messages from home. But still Janice continued to hope against hope that someone, anyone would find her and take her away from this living horror.
But after several weeks passed without a sign of a rescue team, Janice began to resign herself to her fate. Occasionally she was even able to muster up the strength to view her situation with a sort of sardonic sense of humor. After all, she told herself, I'm making lots of money, I have a nice place to stay, and all the masculine attention a girl could ask for. And I'm learning a foreign language to boot, not to mention a sexual education that would be the envy of every bored housewife in Westport.
So time passed and hope dwindled until it was only an insignificant flicker against the indifferent desert sun, and slowly, imperceptibly, Janice began to harden. As the girls had predicted, the men began to slacken their attention in time, and when they did come up with some new and outrageous sexual demand, she found she could take it by simply closing off the feeling part of her mind, deadening herself to the experience. There was a danger here, of course, the danger that Janice would soon be dead to all experience, but she found this risk preferable to the insanity that certainly would have conquered her had she chosen to leave her heart open. She was now operating on the purest of all instincts, the will to survive.
So it was not surprising when the familiar voice, the first one she had heard since leaving the School, came to her as though through a wall of gauze.
"Hey, Janice!"-the words came from some other world-"Janice Ayers! Hey!"
She had been passing through the hotel lobby on her way to the club when the voice came to her. Slowly, as if in a daze, she turned to see Jim Robertson, her classmate at the School, hurrying across the lobby toward her. It took several moments for the reality of his presence to register with her, but when he was finally standing face to face with her, his arm resting on her shoulder, she realized that she was not dreaming after all, that it really was her friend Jim.
"Janice," he said, his face split from ear to ear with a broad grin, "what in the hell are you doing here?"
"Hello, Jim," she said softly, dreamily, as she reached out to touch his face. "It's good to see you."
"Yeah, same here, but you haven't answered my question. Everyone at the School has been wondering what in the hell happened to you. One day you were there, and the next day, phweet-gone. What happened?"
Janice was rapidly coming to her senses, and she could see Humberto glaring at her from behind the desk, issuing silent warnings with his face.
"Let's go into the bar, Jim," she said. "I don't want to talk out here." She realized that they would be even more suspicious if she left their sight with Jim, but in the bar they would be able to talk privately while still under Jaime's surveillance.
"Sure," Jim said, frowning a bit as he took her arm. He looked deeply into her eyes as they walked toward the bar. "Janice," he said finally, "are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Jim," she replied, steering him to a table in the corner of the room furthest from the bar and Jaime's oversized ears. "Just fine." They sat down. "You don't look so hot to me," Jim said. "You look ... I don't know ... different somehow. I think it's your face-you look like you've aged twenty years in the last month."
"Must be the sun," she said. "It ages you fast."
"Hmm," Jim said, looking at her quizzically.
They sat there in silence for a few minutes, Janice wishing with all her heart that she could just blurt it all out to him, the whole terrible story; but Jaime was hovering around near their table, pretending to pick up glasses, and she knew that she would be constrained to make simple, polite, innocuous conversation, or else risk some horrible form of retribution from her bosses.
Finally Jim broke the silence, saying, "Well I've got some news for you, don't know whether you'll take it as good news or bad, but news, anyway."
"What's that?" Janice said, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she tried to appear casual. News? News from David?
"David's been turning the city upside down looking for you," he said, and Janice felt her chest and throat constrict. "He has no idea where you are or what the hell is going on, and he's damn near killing himself with worry about you. Janice, what did happen? Why'd you leave the School, and why did you come clear the hell down here?"
"It's a long story," Janice said. Her mind was being split in two by the conflict he was presenting, the overwhelming desire to tell him everything, to beg. him to help her get back to David; and the equally overwhelming fear of Jaime and Farr and what they'd do to her if she said so much as a word.
"I'm on vacation," Jim said. "I've got a week to listen to stories. Is it longer than a week?" Janice smiled weakly. Jaime was coming nearer and nearer, his threatening presence silencing her; and as she turned to see where he was she caught a glimpse of Humberto standing at the door, regarding them owlishly.
"Jim," she said, "it really is a long story, and I don't have time to tell you now. I have to go to work in a few minutes."
"You've got a job here?" he asked, a surprised look on his face. "Boy, you sure work fast."
"I was lucky."
Jim caught the faint tone of sarcasm in her voice, stared into her eyes again. "Janice," he said, "I'm worried about you. Are you sure everything's all right?"
"What could be wrong?" Janice said without enthusiasm. "I'm living in a desert paradise, I've got a job and a roof and all I can eat; and I don't have to put up with David's histrionics."
"That's just it," Jim said. "David's changed.
He's finally got his divorce and he wants you to come back to him. Janice, look, I don't know what you're doing down here, maybe you're very happy and you don't want anything to do with David anymore. I can understand that, believe me-but just looking at you, I somehow don't believe that that's true. Why don't you come back with me? You can pack your things and we can be out of here tonight."
Janice's eyes were brimming with tears. To think that she'd had so little patience with David, to think that she'd been so selfish. All she'd thought about were her own needs, her own selfish needs. And now, because of her selfishness, she'd gotten herself into a situation from which there could be no escape-even now Jaime was listening to them with fierce concentration, obviously readying a report to take back to Farr and the rest of them. It served her right, she thought; and maybe her captivity was just punishment for the lack of understanding she'd shown David. Oh Christ, she cried to herself, why did Jim have to come here and tell me all this? I was better off thinking that David simply didn't love me than knowing he did and still does now that I can't do anything about it.
"Janice?" Jim said. "Will you come?"
"Oh, Jim!" she choked out. "I can't, don't ask me why; I just can't!"
"All right," Jim said, standing up and making ready to leave, "but I'll be here for a week, staying at the Presidente, so if you change your mind...."
"Thanks, Jim; I mean it. You don't know how good it is to see you, but I'm sure I won't change my mind. It's ... it's ... oh, to hell with it!" She got up and walked quickly through the lobby and up the stairs, the tears blinding her as she fled. Jim was left to stand and stare after her, wondering....
CHAPTER SEVEN
Janice spent the next several hours in her room, crying her eyes out in a fury of self-contempt and hopeless desperation. Damn, she cried to herself over and over again, why had she gone and made such a mess of things? There was David, back in the city looking for her, after having spent months trying to free himself of all ties so that he could be truly close to her; there was Jim, staying in a hotel not three blocks away, ready and willing to help her get back to the city and David; and there she was, hopelessly trapped by her own foolishness in this, the ugliest of situations.
She cried until she could cry no more, and then began thinking in earnest of some way to escape from Farr and Humberto and the rest. It would not be easy, she knew that; she would have to be very clever indeed to escape their surveillance long enough to even get in touch with Jim at the Presidente, let alone leave Guanajuato altogether. But there had to be a way, there just had to!
Finally it hit her. She could use their own weapons against them! If they were holding her prisoner on a chain of sex, she could use that chain to her own advantage. They were men, after all, and men were just as vulnerable as women to the urges of the body; all she had to do was use herself in precisely the way they'd taught her.
Feeling calmer now and intensely purposeful-for she knew she would have to make good this chance for escape or resign herself to a lifetime of humiliation and shame-Janice com-posed herself, washed her face, put on a fresh outfit, the sexiest she could find, and started downstairs for the lobby. But this time Humberto, instead of being her nemesis, someone to be avoided at all costs, was now her target. She walked straight up to the desk where he stood bent over some task of paperwork, smiled, and said in her lowest, huskiest voice; "Buenas tardes, Humberto."
The greasy little man looked up at her, surprised at the friendliness and thinly-veiled invitation in her tone; and said, "Buenas tardes, senorita. Then he looked at her suspiciously, as Janice knew he would.
"And who," he said, "was the handsome young man? An old friend from your school?"
"Yeah," said Janice. "The creep."
"Creep?" said Humberto. "No entiendo ese 'creep.' "
Janice laughed. "It just means that I can't stand him," she said. "Just the sight of him makes me want to cry."
"So I saw," said Humberto, "although I don't quite believe that you were crying because you dislike him so."
"Why else?" Janice said.
Humberto grinned an evil grin. "It comes to me," he said, "that the senorita has notions of leaving our humble community, and so the sudden appearance of her old friend. But no importa; you will not be here much longer anyway."
"What do you mean?" Janice said, trying to disguise the alarm in her voice.
"You are being-how do you say it? -shipped out; and very soon."
"Shipped out?" she said. "To where?"
"It doesn't matter," he said sharply. "Some-place else in Mexico. We are a very large concern, you know, with interests throughout the country: it will not be difficult to find another place for you."
"Well," said Janice, thinking fast, "that's a relief. I was beginning to hate it in Guanajuato; the heat drives me nuts."
"Yes, well perhaps we can find you an ocean environment," Humberto grinned.
"Suits me," she said, "but if I'm going to be leaving, I'm going to have to go out to the drug-store to get some things."
"I'm sorry, senorita," he said, "but we cannot allow ourselves to take such a chance, especially when your friend is nearby."
She looked him directly in the eyes and said, "Well if you don't let me by I won't be ready when you want me to leave. If you care to, why don't you follow me to the store and that way you can see that I don't escape." She was trying to win his confidence. "Besides," she continued, "if you do me this one favor, I'm sure I can find a way to repay you before I leave." She smiled at him seductively.
His eyes wandered lustfully over her body, and she reached out and let her hand slip to his thigh as if she were brushing him aside so that she could pass. She let her fingers tighten around the upper part of his leg, giving him a promising squeeze and watching his expression the whole time. She could see that the hardness in his look was beginning to turn to one of wanting and lust, and that with a little effort she could have him desiring her more than anything else. The prospect of going to bed with him again disgusted her, but it seemed like her only chance to get out of the hotel.
She kept her hand firmly on his loins as she spoke, letting her fingers dig suggestively into the soft fleshiness of his thigh, squeezing with more intense pressure until she could feel an involuntary pulsing beneath the binding of his trousers, and she knew that she was building a desire in him that would take precedence over any other thought he might have.
His voice became thick as he spoke, saying, "Why don't we take care of your half of the bargain now, and then I'll escort you to the drugstore?"
She looked at him coyly and added, "Well, I think that my trip to the store is more important, because, after all, what would you do with a pregnant waitress? Do you understand? I wouldn't want to take any unnecessary chances." She tried to sound convincing and he looked at her with a lecherous grin and told her that she could leave, but he would be watching her and if she weren't back in fifteen minutes, he would have to come looking for her and then she would have to pay even more severe consequences.
She let her hand wander further up his leg until she could feel the intense hardness of his cock inside his pants. She gave him a promising squeeze.
"Don't worry," she smiled at him. "I'll be back in ten minutes." She could feel his gigantic prick growing to full hardness and she knew that his own lust was mounting and that he would not try to stop her, but that if he did catch her trying to get away she would be punished horribly with that terrible, erect weapon between his loins.
He reached out and gave her full, ripe breast a tight, hard squeeze, making her want to cry out in pain, but she swallowed the sound in her throat and smiled up at him, stepped beside him, and headed for the front door. He did not stop her, and she knew that his eyes were following her, but she did not hear his foot-steps behind her as she went outside into the warm late afternoon air.
Her first reaction was to run, but she knew this would give her away, so she kept an even pace until she reached the corner and then broke into a full run. She thought she might make it to the Presidente, then realized it would be faster to call, so she ducked into the nearest phone booth.
"Operator," she gasped, "give me the Presidente and hurry!"
The operator went off the line. It seemed to take her an eternity to place the call, and Jan-ice could not hear her dialing any numbers. She began to panic and was about to hang up, when she heard a voice say, "Presidente Hotel."
"Mr. Jim Robertson, please," she blurted out.
There was silence on the other end, and then finally a male voice answered: "I warned you not to try anything foolish, and now you're going to have to pay for it!"
Her heart was in her stomach, and she realized that the operator had not placed her call at all, but had connected her with Humberto at the hotel. She let the receiver fall out of her hand and bang against the wall of the phone booth and opened the door to run out and scream, but as she turned around to leave she saw Jaime standing in front of her and she knew that her last effort had been thwarted, that she had no reprieve.
He grabbed her roughly by the arm and forcefully led her through the back streets to the other hotel. His grasp was rough, and he let his hands wander over her body freely as they walked.
"That was very stupid of you, you know," he said, pinching the nipple of her breast as his hand slid down around her waist and up toward her throat. "You shouldn't have done that, the bosses will be very angry!" and he snickered and squeezed her breast with a practiced familiarity.
She could feel the tears well up in her eyes at the futility of her trying to escape the lewd mauling his hands were subjecting her to. She could taste the salt as they ran freely down her cheeks and into the corners of her trembling mouth.
"Pp-please don't hurt me," she stammered, trying to break away from his vise-like grip.
"That's not up to me, you know, but I don't think they will mind if I have my fun on the way back. I'll just prime you for Humberto so you'll be more ready for him!" he spat out at her.
His hands were roaming over every curve of her body as they walked down the street, and she wanted to scream, but all the sounds were stuck tight in her throat and would not come out.
His fingers dug into the softness of her skin, and she knew that she would bear the bruises of his strong, long fingers wherever he touched her. His hand moved down her side and dug into the narrowness of her waist and then over the full rounded curve of her hips, until she felt his fingers pushing into the hardness of her pelvis and gathering in the folds of her skirt until he reached the crease of her loins between her legs. He rubbed his fingers furiously in an effort to stimulate some sort of reaction from her unwilling body, but with each step she tried to push his gripping fingers away from her. She felt nauseous at the thought of this thug manhandling her this way, and she wished that someone would come down the alley from the other direction, but now it was getting dark, and the few people who were around were staying on the main street. He let one hand fall carelessly over the round fullness of her buttocks, and the fingers of one hand dug at her opening from the posterior angle. He let his index finger dig into the crevice of her rectum for just a moment before pushing forward to the tender, sensitive lips of her vagina. She tried to wiggle away from his disgusting touch, but she was caught like a piece of wood in a vise. His strong brown hands held her still so that she could no longer walk, and he contented himself with taking whatever pleasures he wanted from her resisting body.
Then he stopped and turned her roughly around, and pressed his stiffening cock into the bulge of her pelvis, forcing her legs slightly apart from the pressure. She stumbled back-wards as he pushed his lust-filled loins into hers, and she almost fell on the gravel pavement. He caught her by the material of her blouse, ripping the buttons off, so that it hung open around her neck and midriff. She tried to grab the material in an effort to cover her-self, but he laughed and ripped again at the material until it hung in tattered shreds around her soft white shoulders.
The thin cotton and lace of her brassiere did little to conceal the young, full swells of her breasts as they jutted out proudly from her body. He stared at the luscious pointed orbs and let his hands wander over them, forcing two fingers inside the constricting material of her brassiere and pinching the nipple of one breast unmercifully. Pain ripped through her body, and she started to scream out, when his torment stopped in order for him to rip the lace from her undergarment. Then he buried his full, pouting lips against the paleness of her breasts to suck the nipple to firm, taut erectness. Despite her disgust she could feel a tremor run through her body in an involuntary reaction to his lustful caress. She wanted to fall to her knees because of the pressure he had against her body, but his hands held her securely in an upright position, and she could only stare down in wide-eyed revulsion at his greasy black hair as he hungrily sucked at her breast. She tried to push his head away by shoving at his shoulders, but this only made his demands more urgent and more painful.
She felt so naked and helpless in the openness of the evening air, but no matter how hard she tried he would not release her. He nibbled at the tender, erect nipple until it stood out pink and proud, and then busied himself tonguing the other neglected breast.
A soft moan of helpless surrender escaped from her lips, and she could feel a tightness growing between her legs. He looked up at her for a moment and half-smiled as if to tell her that he knew she was reacting, no matter how hard she tried to fight it. When she felt she could not stand his urgent caress of her breast any longer, he suddenly grabbed her round, full buttocks in his hands and pulled her toward him. In one swift movement he lifted the material of her skirt and buried his head against the thin white silk of her panties, and nibbled gently at the soft resilient mound between her legs.
She could feel his teeth biting softly through the sheerness of her crotchband, and his hot breath between her thighs. His hands held her hips firmly in place as he began to wet the silk material with his tongue, until it felt as though he were not at all hampered by any clothing. His fingers dug into the soft, supple flesh of her inner thigh, and he let his finger slip inside the tight elastic legband of her pan-ties until he could crudely fondle the swollen lips of her vagina.
"Oooooooohhhhhh," she whispered, no longer able to contain her own involuntary desire. "Stop ... stop ... I can't take it ... not here ... please," she moaned.
He seemed to delight at her humiliating position; and he continued to lick feverishly at the thinness of her briefs, forcing his tongue deep into the fold between her legs.
She tried to struggle against his urgent mouthing, but she was completely helpless against the strength of his huge, sinewy fingers. She pushed forward and then pulled back, fighting against her own building desire in an at-tempt to deter his degrading advances on her body.
He let one finger slip inside the soft fold of her vagina and twist firmly against the rubbery walls of her damp passage until he could feel her pushing down against him. He knew that she was ready, ready to burst into a full, hot, passion-crazed animal, but he was not going to satisfy her urge; he had to wait and turn her over to Humberto. The thought of this young girl, heated with want by his own lips and hands appealed to his sadistic sense, and he suddenly pulled away from her and got to his feet.
"Straighten yourself up," he ordered. "I don't want anyone to think I've been walking with a whore." He taunted her gleefully, and chuck-led at the arousal he had fostered in her voluptuous young body.
She could feel color rise in her cheeks, and she pulled what was left of her blouse around her shoulders as he pushed her towards the back door of the hotel.
She managed to catch herself before she tripped over the bottom step of the landing as he pushed her through the open door and into the brightness of the back office.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the sudden light, but after blinking several times she realized that John Farr and Humberto were both standing before her, grinning sadistically, their hands on their hips, accentuating the bulges of their male hardnesses as they stared at her.
"On your knees," one of them commanded, and she could feel the pressure of Jaime's hand as he forced her to her knees.
She closed her eyes, but she heard the metallic sound as the two men's' zippers came down just a few inches away from her head.
"Hold her head up," Farr commanded to Jaime, who grabbed her roughly by the hair, forcing her head back until she thought her neck would break.
"Open your eyes," he commanded her, and she blinked against the sharpness of the lights, but managed to open her eyes to a half squint.
The men stood before her, clothed, but their massive, erect organs stood out from their trousers like flag staffs jerking in the wind, and the blood-filled heads of their penises were like identical Cyclopes.
"Now, little one, you shall pay for your foolish folly. Take it in your mouth," Humberto ordered.
"Mine too," Farr echoed with an evil grin.
She thought that she wouldn't be able to accommodate one of the giant instruments in her mouth, but TWO, she shuddered, knowing that it would be impossible for her to do it.
Both men moved toward her as Jaime continued to hold her head firmly in place, and letting his fingers reach inside her mouth, he stretched it wide and open. The men maneuvered themselves so that their huge, pulsating organs were at either corner of her trembling lips.
They pushed their loins forward simultaneously, and she could feel the two bulbous heads slip harshly into her dry, unwanting orifice and begin to push deeper into her throat, as if they were racing to see who could get in the deepest first.
She heard them laughing as they pushed into her, stretching her mouth until she thought that her face would split in two. She tried to pull her tongue back so that she would not choke, but Farr's harsh, demanding voice stopped her.
"Lick them ... suck them ... NOW!"
She tried to do as he ordered, but it was as though she had a giant twin popsicle shoved down her throat, and she gasped desperately for air.
Jaime held her head firm as the men rocked back and forth on their heels, shoving and pushing their hard, jerking cudgels deeper and deeper into the softness of her gullet.
She could hear their breathing becoming more and more rapid, and she wished that one of them, at least, would soon reach his sadistic climax so that she could catch her breath, but their huge penises remained rock hard as they bludgeoned relentlessly and tirelessly against the back of her throat.
Finally she could feel one of the erect staffs begin to jerk rapidly against the softness of her inner cheek, and she concentrated all her licking there, and moments later began to feel the hot, sticky jet of semen start to flow deep into her throat and out the side of her mouth. The man was jerking violently against her, and almost threw her over backwards. She could feel the once-hard maleness slowly slip out of her mouth, and she gasped for air before her head was forced harder back on the other male hardness.
"Suck it good now, baby," a voice rasped, and she could feel the gigantic instrument push into the very depths of her throat with increased facility and fervor.
She sucked wildly at the monstrous cock, licking the sensitive underside until she could feel it, too, begin to jerk uncontrollably and spill forth its pent-up load far down into the warm soft recesses of her mouth.
She choked as the hot, pungent fluid ran in streaming rivulets down her throat, and she was forced to swallow the rancid-tasting sperm as it spurted obscenely into her nibbling, elastic-like lips. When he was spent, he drew out of her and laughed heartily as she fell forward onto the floor, retching and coughing in complete humiliation and degradation.
"Pull her up," Farr ordered, and Jaime tugged at her writhing body until she stood shakily on her feet, assisted by his huge, strong hands.
"Well, that's just a sample of what we have in store for you tonight, my disobedient one," he laughed. "Yes indeed, this is going to be some party."
"Get her ready," he shouted to Humberto, who was about to leave the room. "We'll have the bus by to pick you up in half an hour."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Janice thought she must have passed out for awhile, for the next thing she knew she was begging dragged roughly along by Jaime toward an old blue school bus that was waiting outside the back door of the hotel. After he had dragged her the last few steps, Jaime threw her carelessly through the door and against the steps. When Janice had scrambled to her feet and climbed the steps, she saw that the bus was about half full, the other passengers being com-prised of John Farr, Humberto Fuentes, and all the girls from the Besame Bajo. She struggled dizzily down the aisle, took a seat next to Liza, the girl who was the closest thing to a friend that Janice had in this desert hell.
"Hi," Liza said kindly as Janice sat down next to her. "You look like you've really been through it." There was an undertone of real sympathy and concern in her voice.
Janice was too upset to speak, could only nod mutely at her cohort.
"What happened; they find you sleeping with unauthorized personnel? That happened to me once."
Janice shook her head, managed to squeak out, "I tried to get away."
"Oh," said Liza, her eyes growing wide, "I see. Yeah, that's a definite no-no, all right."
"So I found out," Janice said. She was beginning to recover her senses now. "I just hope they're satisfied with one round of 'punishment.' " She began to examine her arms in the dark, looking for signs of the bruises that she knew Jaime had left on her.
"I hope so too, for your sake," Liza said sympathetically. "But I wouldn't count on it." Just as Janice was about to ask her what she meant, John Farr stood up in the front of the bus, cleared his throat, and said: "Girls! Your attention, please."
All conversation in the bus stopped as four-teen pairs of eyes directed themselves at the short bald man who was both their captor and their keeper.
"As some of you know," he continued, "we'll be going out to the mansion tonight for a party. But what you don't know is that this is no ordinary party; we'll be celebrating a very special occasion: the transfer of one of our ladies to a part of Mexico that we hope will be more suited to her taste."
Janice's heart froze as she realized that Farr was talking about her. Liza must have been right; obviously, they were nowhere near being through with her, and she could already feel the tears of shame forming in her eyes. Liza patted her on the arm, trying to give her at least some small gesture of condolence.
"So," Farr went on, "when we get to the mansion, since tonight's proceedings will be a bit on the unusual side, I want all of you to simply shut up and take orders. That should be clear enough, now, shouldn't it? Just keep your mouths shut and do what I tell you"-his voice suddenly turned nasty-"or you'll all be following the trail of our brave little sculptress." With that he ordered the driver to set the bus in motion, then walked to the back of the bus and took a seat where he could be sure to observe everything that went on.
The bus bumped along over the dusty desert road for what seemed like hours, until finally Janice could see the lights of what looked like either a factory or an enormous mansion glittering ahead of them in the distance. Within a few minutes the bus had pulled up alongside the building, and now Janice could see that it was a mansion indeed, in the truest sense of the word-it seemed to cover an entire city block, to be big enough to embrace the Taj Mahal and Grand Central Station within the confines of its white adobe walls.
When the bus stopped, Farr immediately ordered the girls to get out, and one by one they got reluctantly to their feet and began filing out of the bus.
"I hope they don't have that huge bastard as part of the act tonight," Janice heard one of the older girls say. "He's enough to tear any two women in half, and he's just mean enough to enjoy it!" She wondered if they were talking about Jaime, but since he was on board the bus that would have been impossible, for the girl certainly would have seen him. Her legs were shaking as she walked down the stairs, and she felt somehow like a small girl being sent home from school with a bad report card. She had to fight to keep herself from swooning, and she wondered if all the other girls were as scared of the coming ordeal as she was. They all seemed so calm outwardly, and she was sure they could hear her heart pounding faster and faster as the adrenalin of fear raced through her body. When the group reached the front gate she could hear the voices of what seemed to be a large group of men coming from the direction of the house, and she wondered drily how long they had been waiting for the lambs to come to the slaughter.
The path to the house was lighted by colored Japanese lanterns which swung gently in the soft evening breeze and gave the whole place a somewhat festive air. Music drifted on the wind as they got nearer and nearer to the mansion itself. The closer they got, the more she realized that the voices that came from the house were not only those of men, but of women too! She wondered what women would be doing at a party like this, because she was certain that she and the other girls that Farr had brought with him would be the brunt of what-ever evil schemes he had in mind. Were there women in the world who were as warped and sadistic as he? She found it hard to believe, but she was certain that she would find out only too soon what they held in store for this pathetic group.
The girls were led down a long hallway which must have run the full length of the house, and herded into one large, rather sterile room and told that they were to wait there until they were ready for them. They all huddled together in small groups, pondering what was to happen. One of the girls who had been there before said, "This set-up is different from the other times I've been here. This must be something special, like he said ... I can't imagine...." and her voice trailed off in wonderment.
The girls were not left alone very long when a man who was new to the group entered the room and told them they were to strip down except for their brassieres, panties and stockings; and he waited there, staring at them.
"Well, you heard me," he repeated, "what are you waiting for ... STRIP!" The girls looked at each other in disbelief, but reluctantly began to follow his orders as he moved among the group, surveying them, judging them, feeling one here and there as though they were cattle up for auction.
When they were all standing there in just the bare essentials they were led through a back doorway, down another long hall and into a brightly-lit room. They could hear the voices of the group coming through a thin paste-board partition which seemed to be dividing the room. Then a familiar voice asked that the room be quiet....
"If you will all be seated," John Farr said, "we will begin the first part of the program. You all know why you're here and what the rules are. The girls that you are about to view must all be transferred to other areas of the organization in order to make room for some new girls, so look them over carefully, and whatever you wish them to perform for you as a show of their talent will be arranged before the final bidding. These are all young girls whom we have broken in, and broken in well, I might add, so I'm sure you won't be disappointed with any of them!"
"My God," one of the girls said, "we're going to be raffled off like pigs at a county fair!" A hush of realization fell over the group of anxious girls, a few of them breaking into tears, others cursing.
The group of men and women on the other side of the partition chuckled out loud and made crude remarks, some of which were audible. It was obvious to the girls that on the other side of that wall were pimps, madams, racketeers, and maybe just some wealthy perverts, and they were helpless to say into whose hands they would fall or what they would be forced to do. When the talking quieted down, the girls were lined up single file, and slowly the partition that divided them from the others began to rise.
One by one the girls were asked to walk across the floor, turn, bend over, forwards and back-wards, while Farr gave the running commentary on their figures, particular talents, and any other lewd details he could come up with. The whole time he ran his hands freely over their bodies while they flinched under the humiliation they were being subjected to in front of the crowd.
Bids were called out between the gasps, ooohs and ahhs and disquieted breathing of the men in the group.
Janice's legs were shaking as she began the long walk across the floor, and she almost fell from trembling as she neared John Farr. She was afraid of what he would say.
He started, "This young thing is the newest addition to our group, but very well skilled for the short time she has been with us. Unfortunately, a friend of hers got too curious and so we are forced to put her on the auction block even though we would like to keep this honey around." He chuckled lasciviously, patting her on the backside. "In fact," he continued, "she is one of the few girls who has taken not one, but two men in her small, bud-like mouth. It isn't one of her favorite tricks, but I'm sure she could be encouraged to perform it again."
One of the men in the group shouted out, "How many men can she take on in a night?"
Farr answered, "We've never put her to a test, but we can take care of that later if you'd care to see." The group applauded, and Janice knew she didn't stand a chance of getting out of this thing whole. She walked back across the room while the sordid group viewed the remaining girls, some of whom were bought right on the spot, but a few of them, like her-self, had to prove their worth before the buyers. They were all taken into a small ante-room and told to wait until it was their turn.
The could smell the musky, pungent odor of marijuana and hashish filling the other room, and the raking sounds of Indian music flowed from a speaker on the ceiling. As they all sat there, dumbfounded and contemplating their particular fates, the man who had ordered them to strip came back into the room and pointed at Janice.
"You're to be first, sweetheart. There are a lot of horny men out there just waiting to get hold of you, so let's go!" She cringed and tried to pull away from his grasp, but he pushed her roughly back into the other room, hissing to her that she had better perform well if she knew what was good for her.
A mattress had been set up on the floor, and it looked like an ordinary downy mattress except for the brass rings at each corner. The man who had asked about her was standing at the back of the mattress, and he told her to come to him. Reluctantly she moved toward him as the lights in the room went out, except for a blue spotlight which shone down on the mattress and followed her as she walked.
The man stood there for a moment and stared at the luscious curves of her body, and he let his hands roam over her every curve that was not covered by her clothing. Finally he reached behind her and started to reach for the hooks of her brassiere, then decided against it. Instead he reached inside the cups of the brassiere and roughly pushed her soft, tender breasts out of their confinement until they stood out, strained against the binding of the cloth, and the nipples stood upright and erect from the coarse treatment.
"Fine set," he mumbled. "Very fine. Just wanted to see if they'd stand up by themselves." He pinched her nipples cruelly until she cried out in pain.
Finally he released the hooks on her brassiere and let it fall to the floor so that her breasts could fall back into their natural swell and fullness. He put his mouth to her pink, tender nipples and sucked, gently at first and then harder, biting in little nips until she cried out again and tried to push his face away from her body. He stood back for a moment and laughed. "So you're a hellcat ... well, well. We'll see how long that fire lasts tonight. I like a girl with spark!"
He pushed her roughly until she fell staggeringly on the mattress, and he knelt over her, straddling her with his hands, pinning her shoulders down so that she could not move. Within seconds she could feel another set of hands grabbing her wrists and locking leather straps tightly around them, then locking them into the brass rings at the head of the mat-tress. She wriggled her body in an effort to free herself from the shackles, but any attempt was futile.
She kicked her feet high in the air in a struggling endeavor to throw the gross man who was on top of her onto the floor. She caught him on the inside of his thigh and he jumped back, startled; then his hand lashed out and struck her cruelly on the cheek.
"I wouldn't do that again if I were you ... if you know what's good for you!" he spat vindictively down at her.
Tears of frustration and humiliation were streaming down her cheeks, and she turned her head to the side and tried to bury her face in the mattress.
The crowd was shouting words, crude and ugly, of encouragement to the man who had her pinioned so helplessly. They wanted to see this girl put through every possible degradation imaginable, and they were going to enjoy it vicariously through their own bodies.
His hands ran down to her waist, and he dug his fingers into the soft, supple flesh where it began to curve into the fullness of her hips and buttocks, feeling the slight bulge of flesh that rose above the tightness of her silk stockings. He undid the clasp of her garter belt so that he could feel every inch of her legs as he pulled the silky mesh from her body. Her legs were shaking as he continued to disrobe her, leaving only the tiny, thin bikini panties covering the thinly-matted down between her legs. He stood above her, leering down maliciously and lustfully. And as she closed her eyes to block out his lewd grin, she could feel someone's hands tugging at the elastic of her final covering and pulling it carelessly over her ankles so that she lay there completely naked and vulnerable. The same hands that removed her panties were now shackling her ankles in the same fashion as her hands were tied, and she lay there completely spread-eagled and open. It seemed as though she lay there in that degrading position for hours, even though she knew it was just minutes, when she heard the rustle of the man's clothing dropping to the floor. She wanted to be sick, and she knew it wouldn't be long before this awful crass man, whoever he was, would be mauling and using her helpless body in any way his evil lust desired. She could hear the rapidness of his breathing as he disrobed, and he muttered obscenities to her as he prepared to get down on top of her.
"Baby, you're gonna get fucked tonight like you ain't never been fucked before," he hissed down evilly at her as he watched her struggle fruitlessly against the tightness of her bonds; and this only increased his desire to abuse and ravish her until she was completely broken and subservient to him. He knelt between her legs and gloated over the smooth, pink-fleshed little pussy he was about to ram his cock into. His own passion was too far beyond control to bother himself with any preliminary love-making; he just wanted to be inside her, feel the warmth of her vaginal walls close around the throbbing hardness of his penis. He moved quickly and roughly between her wide-spread legs, running his hands coarsely over her thighs and hips, pulling apart the tender lips of her vagina like soft, hair-lined curtains. And then, with one last look down at her wide-spread crotch, he aimed his lust-swollen cock at the tiny, fear-quivering hole between her legs, and lunged at her with all his might.
"AAAaaaaaaggghhhhhh," she screamed with a long gasp of pain, and her body squirmed as though she were being impaled with the spear of a wild savage.
His penis tore into her and scraped against her tight, unwanting vagina, and it contracted and squeezed desperately around him as if her passage were trying to force him out as he thundered into her. He gasped too, at the sudden delicious clamping enclosure around his hardened cock as he continued to push deeper and deeper into her, forcing the warm, moist walls of her cunt in rolling waves before him.
Lying helpless and dominated under him, she felt as if she must be torn apart inside with the roughness of his entry. She bit her lower lip and rocked her head back and forth on the mattress in an effort to dull the pain that wracked through her loins and belly.
She tried to think of how wonderful it would have been to have David making love to her, demanding her, and not this animal of a man, but she could only feel the pain of humiliation that this man was taking her, unasked, desecrating her most intimate parts, shoving his thick, lust-hardened penis into her torn, aching pass-age as though she were nothing but a whore off the streets to be used for a price and nothing more. He lay still for a moment, his pelvis jammed hard between her open thighs and his breath coming in strangled gasps as he felt her warm, moist pussy throbbing around him. And then, unable to hold back any longer, he began to fuck viciously into her. With each violent thrust she thought he would kill her, his rock-hard penis thundering into her with savage, relentless strokes; and his face, when she opened her eyes, was twisted into a mask of strained lust and sadism.
His eyes narrowed as he watched her, waves of sensual intoxication enveloping his loins, and he grinned maliciously as he saw the pain and fear in her eyes.
She was being driven brutally deeper and deeper into the mattress with each buffeting of his hips, and she could feel the hardness of the floor beneath it smacking against the softness of her buttocks. His penis thundered deep into the moist, clinging passage, and his hands went behind her to cruelly cup the soft, white buttocks; and he dug his fingers deep into her anal crevice.
He ravaged her savagely, twisting his hips and crashing his throbbing organ deeper into her from every angle, feeling the swollen head tear at the lining of her vagina, bringing gasps of cruel excitement from him which were matched by moans of pain from her contorted lips.
The tender walls of her vagina felt as though they were on fire, her whole belly being gutted and torn out as the flames of his lust stormed through her. Her mind wandered to the thought of the pain and humiliation she would have to bear from the rest of the men, and she suddenly felt as though she must surely die in the process. It would be too much for her to bear.
His hands found her soft white breasts and he mauled her like a lion devouring its helpless prey. His nails dug into her supple flesh and clawed at the tiny erect buds of her nipples until she thought they would be ripped away from her body. He squeezed harder and harder, and she knew that she would be a mass of purple-black bruises; and her chest constricted with pain. It was a never-ending nightmare, but she knew that this was only the beginning, that she would have to endure it time and time again before she would finally be released from the bonds that fastened her securely to the mattress.
She opened her eyes again slightly, looking in back and to the side of her to see if there was anyone who would pity her and make him stop, but her frightened looks were met by icy, lust-filled stares from the other men who couldn't wait to get their turn at her.
One of the men yelled, "Hurry up, I want to get a crack at her before I come right here watching you!" No more tears would come from her eyes, she had cried all she could and her cheeks stung from the salt; and she wished that she could pass out and not know what was going to happen next.
The passion-crazed man above her looked down at her mouth that was opening and closing in a fish-like manner as little gasps of pain came out, and he crashed his full, fleshy lips down hard on her, biting them savagely as he thrust his cruel, hard rod deeper into her as he was working up to a feverish climax. His tongue filled her mouth, forcing her mouth open wide, and her lips were tender from his sadistic biting. She tried to struggle and get away from him, but it was locked under his head just as her hips were locked under his.
As he could feel the pressure building in his loins, he moved further up on her to prepare for the great flood of semen that would fill her every inch, and his breath rasped out savagely, panting, enjoying the fact that he was destroying this young, innocent girl and gloating over the violence of his destruction.
He was so overcome at times that he seemed to lose his rhythm, and stayed deep inside her widely-stretched pussy for several seconds at a time, grinding the bulbous head of his cock around and around against the innermost walls of her vagina. She lay completely still in an al-most semi-conscious state, waiting in horror for the burst of passion that would fill her. Her warm, moist passage contracted automatically around the thick stem of wildly probing flesh inside her, and it seemed that the head of his penis was growing to an enormous size, like a giant balloon about to burst.
She could feel his hairy legs begin to quiver with the onslaught of his passion as he rammed into her faster and faster, his whole body shaking with a sort of delirium. Her tight, reluctant channel was dragging the sperm out of him with an overwhelming suction, and the rush grew in volume like a dam beginning to burst. He cried out, gnashing his teeth, and he caught her breast again, crushing the firm, bruised bulbs brutally between his fat fingers; and his whole body shook in a convulsive tremor which was accompanied by the shattering of his hot, liquid sperm deep into the torn, painful depths of her vagina.
When he was spent he rolled off the mattress onto the floor in an effort to catch his breath. After a few minutes he got up and looked at the group and motioned for the next man to come take his place on top of her and to do with her as he pleased.
The whole cruel nightmare was becoming a reality as she looked around and could see at least twenty men, their penises straining at their trousers, just waiting to take their turn with her.
The next man knelt between her legs with his eyes directed straight at her open, semen-covered pussy. He began to massage the soft flesh of her inner thigh, spreading the soft, hair-lined lips of her vagina firmly apart; and he lowered his open mouth down over it. He began to nibble at the bud of her clitoris, gently at first, then the inner part of her leg, while his tongue swirled and searched for the tender pink slit of her vagina.
She could feel a rush of passion build involuntarily between her legs as the gentleness of his caress began to stimulate her after the cruel assault she had experienced just moments before. His hand ran over her body like a blind man's, feeling, pinching, kneading every inch of her soft vulnerable flesh, and she could feel goose bumps prickle her skin as he toyed like a master with her most sensitive, most intimate parts. One of the other men who could not stand to watch the lewd, erotic display any longer knelt down by her head and forced her mouth open with his fingers, thrusting his pulsing rod savagely into the cavern of her unwanting mouth.
She could feel the tension building in her loins, but she was being choked by another man's thick, pulsing tool in her throat. As the one man slowly nibbled and mouthed at her aching vagina, she in turn began a frantic sucking at the other's cock.
God, she thought, I can't go through this again ... I wish I could die; but her body was reacting automatically to the erotic, sensual attentions of both men. In the background she could hear the murmurs and heavy breathing of the group as they watched the rape of her mouth and tantalizing teasing of her loins and vaginal passage. The rapid breathing heightened her desire and she wanted to be taken, but gently, not cruelly and savagely as the first man had done.
She tried to buck her hips off the mattress to give the man between her legs better leverage and a deeper angle, but the bindings held her fast to the mattress.
"Ooooooohhhhh, I can't stand it ... go ahead, fuck me ... please fuck me," she groaned around the cock between her lips, not believing that these words of encouragement were coming from her own mouth. She knew that she had been badly bruised and torn by the first man, but her passion was building to such a height that the pain she would have to endure would become sort of a masochistic pleasure.
She continued her mouthing of the other man's gigantic organ until she could feel it pulse and jerk frantically in her mouth, and she could taste the hot, sticky fluid of his sperm as it shot down her throat and into her belly. He withdrew his limp, wet organ from her mouth and lay back on the floor to watch the other man tease her further until she was screaming to be taken ... satisfied! ... fucked!
Finally the man raised up on his knees and aimed his huge cudgel for the tiny, now lust-throbbing slit of her vagina, and eased himself forward, pressing the pulsating head of his cock into the tight elastic ring surrounding it. He grunted and forced the head of his throbbing rod of flesh up inside so that it was buried about an inch inside of her. He drew the thickened knob of his shaft in and out of the warm, moist channel, teasing her and making her twist and turn, writhing in passion beneath his hardened cock.
"Please put it in ... all the way in," she moaned. "Do it now ... NOW!"
The men in the group started to chuckle at this helpless girl, shackled and begging to be satisfied, and they delighted in her frustrated plight.
"You'll get more than enough before the evening's through," someone said, through heavy breathing. "More than enough!"
Finally she could feel the length and thickness of the man's hot shaft of hardened flesh pushing deeper and deeper into her vagina as she tried to undulate her hips beneath him, pushing up against him as far as she could before the bonds would permit her no further movement.
"Aaaaaagggggghhhhhhh," she moaned as he stretched the sides of her tortured, aching pussy with his huge hard prick, "you're hurting me ... please ... easy ... oh, yes!"
She was torn between her desire that had built to a wild, fever pitch and the shame and humiliation of pleading in front of the panting crowd this way. But ... it only lasted for a moment as he began a long hard series of smooth rhythmic strokes deep up inside her. He was gentle for a moment, and then he was pounding into her with increased speed and pressure, and she could feel the swollen head of his rampaging cock as it rubbed against the smooth, soft walls of her cunt, and she could feel at the same time the involuntary contractions of her passage as it enclosed wetly around his erect, stiffened rod.
And then ... then ... she was there!!!
"Yessssssss, I'm coming ... I'M COMING NOW! ... NOW!" she gasped out, almost screaming with the joy of finally reaching her long-awaited orgasm.
Her moans and wildly twisting torso excited the man fucking her to the bursting point, and he could feel the pressure building from the insides of his testicles, down through the fleshy shaft and reaching a boiling point at the head of his penis.
His sperm gushed forth like bubbling lava from an exploding volcano, sending jet-hot streams of sperm deep into her desperately contracting belly as he jerked out his orgasm down between her flailing thighs.
When he had finished with her, he rolled heavily off to the side to recuperate, but there were other men waiting in line to vent their lewd passion and lust against her aroused body. One by one they mounted her between the legs at first and then turning and twisting her body into every erotic, lewd contortion imaginable so that they could violate every orifice of her body. And ... she loved it all ... and filled the room with her desperate cries of desire time after time as the nightmare wore on and on until the first weak rays of the sun filtered through the open windows.
Later she could not remember how many men had used her body vilely, as though she were a rutting animal, but she felt beat and battered and knew that she would be sore and aching for days to come. She was not even sure if her legs would be able to support her weight of her body as afterwards she was led, half-carried, really, to one of the bedrooms somewhere in the distance from the scene of her violent sub-mission to the depraved rape of her body. But somehow they did, and the last waking thing she remembered was another harsh command of: "Open your legs." And ... she did, and fainted dead away as another weight pressed her aching body tight down into the squeaking bed.
But the fainting spell lasted for only a moment, and when she regained consciousness she knew that something inside her had been altered by this evening's experience. Without knowing why, she realized that everything had changed, that she was no longer the person she had been when she had first come to Guanajuato. And it was not just a matter of sexual initiation-that was part of it, she felt; but there was something else, some far deeper change that she had undergone.
Nothing would ever be the same.
CHAPTER NINE
The next day Janice awoke feeling dazed, sore, and groggy; and she was shocked to find out that she was not on solid ground, that something was in motion beneath her. She sat up abruptly in bed, took a look around her, and realized that she was in a private sleeping car on a train. A glance out the window confirmed this impression: they were travelling across a tan, bleached desert, the monotony of the landscape broken only by a few scraggly greasewood bushes and by the purplish mountains rising in the distance.
Janice had no idea where she was going, but she remembered-the recollection left her terror-stricken-that she had been purchased the night before, sold away as if she were a thoroughbred horse, or more accurately an old mare on her way to the glue factory. And that was exactly how she felt, like an old, used-up horse, with every ounce of spirit stripped from her. Her body was sore all over, and she tenderly examined the bruises on her arms, legs, and breasts, wondering all the while where she was going, and what would happen to her.
Soon the door to her car opened and the man who'd been the first to fuck her the night before walked into the room. Oh God, Janice thought to herself, anyone but him; anyone!
"Good morning, babe," the man said cheer-fully, but behind his superficial good humor Janice could see the evil glint of sadism in his eyes. Jesus, she thought, is he going to fuck me again? I don't think I can take any more of it.
The man seemed to read her mind. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm not going to fuck with you today; I need you to be fully rested when you start your new job."
"New job?" Janice stammered.
"That's right, new job," the man answered, smiling cruelly at her. "What did you think, that I bought you so you could have a vacation?"
"But where are we going? Where are you taking me?" she asked, her voice trembling with fear.
"What difference does it make?" he replied. "One place or another, it's all the same in your line of work. But since you're so curious, I can tell you this much: you'll be working in a very exclusive club, in a little remote beach resort on the west coat of Mexico. Don't ask the name of the town, because I don't want you to know that until we get there. Farr told me that you tried to leave Guanajuato, and I don't want to take any chances-you might just take it in your head to try and jump the train, and I paid too much to risk losing you now."
"I wouldn't think of leaving," Janice replied sarcastically. "You're such charming company."
The man took two steps across to her and slapped her as hard as he could across the face. Then he stepped back, looked at her, and said in a calm, hard voice: "I don't appreciate sarcasm, so in the future maybe you'll know to keep your thoughts to yourself." He turned and strode out of the car.
Janice collapsed back onto the bed, sobbing uncontrollably. She simply couldn't believe that all this was happening to her, that a short month before she'd been a student at the finest art institute in the United States, and in that brief space of time she'd been reduced to a common whore. It was to awful, too ugly to be believed. She went on sobbing until she thought her whole body would dissolve in tears.
Eventually her crying was interrupted by a soft knock on the door, the sound of which sent Janice scurrying up against the wall, afraid that her new boss had come back to torture her some more. When she didn't answer the knock, a deep, gentle male voice on the other side of the door said, "Miss Ayers? Are you in there? I've brought you some breakfast."
Janice didn't recognize the voice, but there was something about its gentle tone that made her less afraid. Timidly, cautiously she went to the door, and after wrapping a terrycloth robe around her naked body, opened it a crack and peeked through. She saw a man standing there, someone she had never seen before, and he was tall, blond and strong-looking, obviously an American.
"Who are you?" she said in a frightened voice. "What do you want?"
"My name's Carl Leggett," he said, smiling warmly at her. "I work for Mr. Anderson, your new boss; and right now my job is to bring your breakfast, but if you don't open the door a little more I'll have to slide it in one egg at a time, and poke the toast through edgewise."
"Oh," Janice said. "I'm sorry." She opened the door fully to allow the man to come in. He was carrying a tray full of breakfast, and Janice suddenly found that she was ravenously hungry-she hadn't eaten since before the festivities of the previous evening. Carl set the tray on the small dining table, then turned around to face Janice, smiling still.
"Here it is," he said. "Eat up, because if you're going where I think you're going, you'll need all the strength you can get."
"I suppose so," she said, dropping her eyes. She'd already grown so unaccustomed to kindness that she found this man's warmth slightly embarrassing.
"My God," he said, putting his finger under her chin and tilting her face up to his, "you're awfully young to be involved in this business. How old are you, anyway?"
"What difference does it make?" Janice replied bitterly. "Right now I feel about a hundred and six."
"In that case," Carl said, "I might have to develop a grandmother complex." His smile was beaming warmth into her. "You're very beautiful," he said softly.
She said nothing, only continued to stare into his open blue eyes. She couldn't believe that someone who worked for-what was his name? Oh, yes, Anderson-could be so gentle. "Who are you?" she said again.
"You have a short memory," he said. "I al-ready told you, my name's...."
"No," she interrupted, "not your name; I mean, who are you, really?"
The smile left his face. "That's another story," he said. "Let's just say that I'm your male counterpart, doing something I hate because I made some stupid mistakes and got myself into a situation I can't get out of."
"Really?" she said, looking at him in wonder. It had never occurred to her that a man could allow himself to be trapped as she had done, and she wondered briefly if all this was some sort of line he'd composed to get closer to Anderson's girls. But when she saw the pain flash briefly across his handsome face, clouding the intense blue eyes, she knew somehow that he was telling the truth. She reached out and took his hand in hers. "Please," she begged, "don't leave. Stay and talk to me; it's been so long since I've met anyone nice."
"You're pretty nice yourself," he said softly, looking deeply into her eyes. "But I can't stay right now; Anderson's got work for me. I'll come back later on this afternoon."
"Promise?"
"No," he said, "I can't promise-Anderson doesn't like me spending any more time than necessary with his girls; but I'll try my best."
"Please come back," she whispered. "Please. I need to talk to someone so badly."
He let go of her hand, raised his own and patted her lightly on the cheek. "I'll do my best," he repeated, and in another instant he was gone.
Janice just stood there in the middle of the room, staring with unseeing eyes at her break-fast. Her hunger had vanished as rapidly as it had come, and she now found herself unable to eat a single bite. All she could do was think about Carl, about his strong, gentle hands and his brilliant blue eyes. She stood there a few minutes more, wondering at this small good fortune that had come her way after so much unmitigated pain. And thinking that, she went back to her bunk and fell promptly asleep, lulled by the even rhythm of the clacking wheels.
* * *
When she awoke, the sun was shining directly into her window, its beams creating trails of swirling dust that came from nowhere, headed nowhere. Her first thought was of Carl, and she found herself thinking, "Oh, Carl, what is going to happen to me? I wish you were here to help me." She felt the urge to cry again when she heard a soft, almost inaudible knock on the door.
"Who is it?" she asked hesitantly, afraid her work was about to begin before she had even been able to mentally prepare herself. But, to her relief, the answer was familiar and warm.
"It's me ... Carl," the voice answered softly. "May I come in?"
She almost ran to the door to let him in. "I just wanted to make sure you were still in the same car," he said. "I hope you don't mind."
"I was just thinking about you," she blurted out to him. "I've known you only a few hours and you're on my mind already ... it must be love," she said, trying to sound jovial, but somehow it didn't come through.
"I was just thinking the same thing," he said, taking her swiftly into his arms and kissing her warmly, urgently, letting the strength of his body flow through her and reassure her that he really was there and that he would try his best to help.
She returned his kiss with an urgency that matched his own, and before long they fell backward onto the bed, their hands searching out the new and exciting curves and tense muscles of each others' bodies.
"Oooooohhh, Carl," she whispered. "I didn't think that I could actually feel love for any man again, but you make me feel so alive, so vibrant."
"Hush," he murmured, "someone may hear us," he added, covering her soft red lips with his own, pushing his tongue into the warm moist cavern between her teeth, where it met in the teasing flickering play of her own.
His lips caressed the long, soft nape of her neck, biting gently as his kisses became more fervent and demanding. She wanted him to make love to her, but she knew that she had to be ready to take on all comers in an hour, so she tried to push him aside.
"We mustn't ... not now...." she tried to utter, but when she tried to speak he covered her lips again with his own mouth. His hands ran softly, quickly over her shoulders and down to the firm young swell of her breasts; and he massaged them gently. She could feel a fire building between her thighs, and she grabbed his body to hers in urgent desire, all thoughts of saving herself for work gone.
She could feel the hardness of his penis as it began to swell inside the material of his trousers, and her hands ran down the hardness of his thighs as they strained into her body.
"Oh God, I want you so badly," he moaned. "Tell me you want me too...." and his voice trailed off into silence, waiting for her answer.
"Yessssss...." she murmured. "Oh, yessssss, Carl, I do want you."
His hands unfastened the buttons of her blouse and his fingers massaged the supple flesh of her breasts, pinching slightly at the erect pink nipples until they stood erect beneath the brassiere.
"Wait," she said. "Let me take my clothes off so they don't get wrinkled." She got off the bed and disrobed quickly, while he stood there watching her sensual young body slowly revealing itself, his breath coming fast and the bulge in his slacks becoming more and more evident.
When finally she was clad only in her sheer bikini panties, she moved back to the bed and her fingers worked urgently at the zipper of his trousers, feeling the hardness of his cock as it jerked impatiently inside its tight confines. He lay back, completely content to let her undress him, even though desire was tearing through every inch of his body. She moved quickly and tugged at the cloth until his trousers fell carelessly on the floor. She unbuttoned his shirt and he sat up slightly so that she could pull that too from his body. In one swift movement she pulled his tee-shirt over his head and lay down beside him, her fingers reaching inside the elastic of his shorts until she could feel his marvelous manhood in her hands. She kneaded the long, thick organ vigorously, bringing it to full erection. At the same time his hands were fondling the warm, soft orbs of her buttocks, and as he caressed them he let several fingers slip inside her panties to find the already moist, waiting slit of her vagina.
Gently he eased one finger inside the tight, smooth, fleshy channel and wiggled it teasingly as she squirmed lasciviously under his touch.
"Oooooooooooooooohhhhhhhh," she moaned. "Oooooooooooooooooohhhhhh, Carl."
"Am I hurting you?" he asked hesitantly, because his own desire was already at a breaking point.
"I'm still a little sore; but I want you so badly-just be careful, please," she answered.
He eased up on his fingering in an effort to let her relax against his hand that was fully implanted down inside her flimsy nylon pan-ties, while she continued stroking up and down on his hardened cock with her soft, feminine fingers wrapped tightly around it. She could feel it jerk involuntarily in her hand, and she wanted to feel the massive organ inside her, moving in her out of her, making her come of her own volition as she hadn't done since the last time with David.
She pulled roughly at the cotton of his shorts until he was able to assist her with a foot, at which point he kicked them carelessly to the floor. His hands pulled desperately at the thin silk covering she wore over her loins, and they fell together, flesh against flesh, in urgent, burning passion and desire.
He did not wait long before he rolled on top of her, spreading her legs wide with his strong, urgent hands; and he eased his throbbing rod to the palpitating opening of the tiny, vulnerable slit between her legs. She could feel the pressure of the thickened knob as it probed gently at her soft, hair-lined pussy, and she raised her hips slightly off the bed to give him a better angle. She wrapped her knees tightly against his ribs and pulled him closer to her with her hands digging harshly into his back.
"Yesssssssss ... yessssssss," she moaned. "Give it to me now ... I want you to fuck me, darling! I want you to do it to me!" she choked out.
"Oh, baby, I love you...." he said, and she could hardly believe what she had heard.
"I love you too," she answered, the passion of her body blurring the words; "it's crazy, but I do love you!"
They rocked together as though they were tied by some invisible cord, one body ... one desire.
Her vaginal walls were still aching from the night before, but she didn't care, she wanted him, she wanted him to take her completely, recklessly, in every way possible.
But there was no time.
In the heat of their desire all control was lost, and she could feel the walls of her vagina contract around the male hardness of his driving cock; and she groaned out her passion, unable to hold back for even a second longer.
"Oh, yes, darling ... I'm coming ... I'm coming now ... give it to me ... juice me ... juice me ... aaagghhhh!" Her urgent pleas built his own passion to the breaking point, and he began to feel his own contractions coming faster and faster, as with a final spasmodic thrust of his hips he shot his hot liquid sperm deep into her wildly quivering belly.
They fell alongside each other, panting for breath, completely spent.
"I'm sorry I was so quick," he apologized breathlessly, looking at her tenderly through admiring eyes. "I could have made you come again, I know it."
"Oh darling," she whispered, "it was wonderful ... just perfect. You make me feel so complete, so clean and so much like a woman again."
He held her tenderly in his arms and kissed her cheeks and nibbled softly at her ear, but she started to move away and said, "You had better go before someone catches us; I have to go to that meeting in just a few minutes."
He shook his head as if to clear it and finally said, "I guess you're right, but I hate to leave you ... especially now." She didn't want to ask him to go, but if she wanted to ever get out of there she couldn't take any chances and neither could he.
Do I really love him? she thought to her-self, or was it just an animal need to be loved gently by someone who does care what happens to me? Could I be turning into someone so jaded that I convinced myself that I loved him, when all I really wanted was to satisfy my bodily needs and find someone to help me get out of here? She tried to put these thoughts from her mind as she looked deeply into his beautiful blue eyes. Then she kissed him lightly on the cheek and walked to the bathroom to bathe herself. She had to hurry, there wasn't much time left to make the meeting and she knew there would be trouble if she were late.
* * *
The next two days went by in a blurry, confused whirl. At the meeting Janice and the two other girls who had been purchased by Anderson (she was disappointed to see that Liza was not among them) were told that they were being taken to the town of Guaymas, a small fishing village and resort on the Gulf of California coast, and that their place of business was to be the Ape and Essence, a combination gambling casino and exclusive brothel that was only one of Mr. Anderson's many interests in the town. The girls greeted the news without enthusiasm-one whorehouse was bound to be very much like another, they reasoned, no matter how plush the furniture-but at the same time, Janice was mildly happy first that they would be near the ocean and away from the debilitating heat of Guanajuato, and secondly that they would be working a casino. At least, she thought, there'll be a bit of excitement.
She had very little time to think about Carl as they prepared themselves for their new job, although he was with her as a sort of undercurrent in everything she did. What little spirit was left in her she attributed to his nearness, and although they could not appear too friendly on the few occasions when they bumped into one another, in the train corridor and later in the environs of the Ape and Essence, just the fleeting, sight of him was enough to assure her that their love still existed, that they would not be separated.
And the club was impressive indeed, a far more interesting place to work than the Besame Bajo. The main room was carpeted in expensive oriental rugs and the walls draped in plush velvet. Gambling tables dominated the scene; roulette wheels, dice, blackjack, and poker tables, even a faro dealer; and the atmosphere was thick with expensive cigar smoke and the sounds of intense gambling, the low hum that indicated that big money was at stake in the various games. On one side of the room a bar occupied the whole length of the wall, made from exotic, hand-carved mahogany; and it was at this bar that Janice and the other girls were expected to roost until one of the customers took a shine to them. The older, more experienced girls were allowed to circulate among the gambling tables, and even to gamble themselves a bit if they found a customer who was willing to back them, although they were not allowed to play with their own money.
So Janice found herself sitting at the bar on her first actual night of work, trying her best to put out the bored, sophisticated look that Anderson had told her was most likely to at-tract the wealthier customers from among his clientele. And sure enough, before she had been there five minutes a tall, thin, gray-haired man with an ivory pipe clamped between his teeth left the dice table and came over to take a seat next to her. Everything about him smelled of money and boredom.
"Hello," he said, and Janice was surprised to find that he had a slight English accent. "You're new here, if I'm not mistaken."
"This is my first night," Janice said, "so no, you are definitely not mistaken."
"I thought not," the man replied. "You see, I've been coming here for quite a long time, every summer, in fact, for the past twenty years, so I know the girls quite well." He gave her an appraising look, up and down, and Janice squirmed a bit on the stool. "You're a bit younger than most, though," he said finally.
"Actually, I'm forty-seven," she said, "but I exercise."
"I can see you do," the man said admiringly, looking her up and down again. "Well perhaps a little later on we can indulge in a few indoor games." He was grinning at her, the pipe sticking straight out from his teeth as if it had taken root there.
"Perhaps we can," Janice said, trying to sound like a professional.
"I'm sure of it," he said, "but for now I have an appointment with another lady; Dame Fortune, I believe she calls herself." He got up and went back over to the dice table, turning once to give her a smile that purported to be a promise.
As soon as he had gone Mr. Anderson came over to her, and leaning over, whispered in her ear with exaggerated nonchalance: "That's Aubrey Hereford," he said, "one of the five richest men in England. You've heard of Hereford cattle?"
Janice nodded, wide-eyed.
Anderson nodded in return. "That's him," he said. "Now Hereford is a customer in very long and good standing, if you know what I mean, and we always try to make sure that he enjoys himself. If he's taken a liking to you, then I expect you to do your best to please him, even if his requests are somewhat ... ah ... unusual. Do you understand?"
"I understand," Janice said, sighing to her-self. Oh well, she thought, he's an old man and he couldn't be up to much; and as for his "unusual requests," I'm sure he couldn't ask anything of me that I haven't already done, and ten times over.
Now she could see that Anderson was whispering something in the Englishman's ear, and she knew that her night's fate was being decided. Sure enough, a moment later Hereford left the table, came over to her again, and asked if he could buy her a drink.
"Sure," Janice said nonchalantly.
"Well, now," he said, putting his hand firmly on her knee and lower thigh, "what will you have? Martini? All you American girls seem to favor martinis."
"Make mine a double vodka," she answered, hoping that the drink would dull her senses.
She could feel the bite of the chilled liquor as she swallowed, and it burned her throat and caused a warm flush to settle in her stomach.
She tried to sit back in the stool, then realized that it didn't have a back, and she giggled a bit to herself. Good, she thought, I'm already getting drunk; because Hereford's hand was sliding further up her leg, until she could feel his slim, strong fingers firmly grasping the soft flesh of her inner thigh and begin to knead it.
Then his hand slipped fully underneath her cotton skirt, and she had risen even higher up on her thigh, until she could feel his fingers searching for the elastic legband of the white nylon panties she was wearing. His hand pressed eagerly into the slight bulge of her pubic mound and rubbed persistently while his fingers forced their way inside the taut elastic, and he could feel out the tender lips of her vagina and small bud of her smooth, pink clitoris.
His breath was coming in long, raking gasps, and she was afraid that the other people at the bar would hear him and know what was going on.
"Don't you think we'd better wait a little bit?" she asked hesitantly.
"Doesn't matter, my dear," he answered through his thick English breath, "no one cares what goes on in here anyway, and I can't wait to get my hands on you!" He was grinning sadistically at her, and he pulled teasingly at the soft spiral pubic hair nestled between her legs. She winced helplessly and thought she would cry out in pain. He seemed to enjoy the fact that she was uncomfortable, knowing that there were other people present and that if they were going to have to make love she would prefer to do it in private.
She downed her second double vodka, and her head was beginning to feel a bit light. She adjusted herself on the stool to try to hide the fact that his hand was buried between her loins, but this only facilitated his grasp on her and she felt one slender finger push firmly into the tight, tiny slit of her vagina.
He was breathing hard, and she could feel the involuntary clinging of her vaginal wall around the length of his finger as he wiggled it teasingly inside her. She could feel the tightness building in her loins, and the liquor was letting her body react to this natural, but lustful, impulse.
God, what's happening to me, she moaned to herself. I'm turning into a nympho! A man ... any man just touches me and ... ooooohhh.
"I'd like to rip your clothes off right here and take you here and now, in front of every-body," he whispered Britishly.
"No ... wait ... let's go to a room," she managed to choke out.
She wasn't sure whether it was the liquor or not, but somehow she didn't seem to mind his touch so much as her own body began to desire ... demand ... attention!
They walked quickly down the hall to one of the rooms and were about to go in when she saw Carl walking towards her. She wanted to run and hide, but it was too late. She didn't know what to say or what he would say, but he walked right on by as though he hadn't even seen them.
How could he be so cold! she thought, then rationalized that he, too, worked for Anderson and regardless of what he wanted to do, his hands were tied just the same as hers. Suddenly she felt sick, and she was no longer stimulated by the lustful, degrading pawing of the man she was about to take into her bed, but she knew that it was too late to turn back now. She would have to see Carl later and explain it to him, but she knew that he was al-ready aware of what was going on.
Once inside the room, Hereford locked the door and wasted no time in stripping until he stood in front of her, naked and fully erect, ready to take her in any fashion he demanded. He walked towards her, his rigid penis bobbing up against his chalk-white stomach like a hardened stump. His hands reached out and ripped her blouse from her body without bothering to unbutton it, and the buttons went scattering over the floor. She tried to draw back, but his hands were gripping her shoulders and held her fast. He seemed to delight in ripping her clothes off rather than a more conventional way or letting her undress herself. It took him only a few minutes of clawing and tearing to have her completely naked and vulnerable; and angry red welts showed on her soft white breasts where he had savagely torn her brassiere from her body, and trailed down to the roundness of her stomach and down to the bulge of her pubis and thighs.
She wanted to scream in fear because he seemed to be like a madman, clawing and scraping her body, panting and gasping while he enjoyed the torture he was putting her through.
Roughly he threw her to the bed and continued his lustful pawing, dipping two fingers coarsely and deeply into her dry, tight vagina and wiggling them harshly. She started to moan in pain and humiliation as he whispered obscenities in her ear and delighted in her frightened reaction.
"Please ... stop ... you're hurting me," she pleaded, but her cries went unheeded.
"You're a big girl," he grunted, "you can take all I have to give you and more!"
She struggled under the weight of his body, but she was held firmly, pushed into the thin mattress of the bed.
She could feel the hardness of his penis as it throbbed into the softness of her thighs and searched for the tiny opening of her vaginal slit.
"Aaaaaaagggghhhhhh," she gasped, as she felt the first plunge of his great weapon into her still-tight, moist passage. "Ooooooooooooh, not so fast, please ... PLEASE!"
But he was in no mood for gentility, and he pounded his hips deep into her until she thought that his mammoth thick cock would curl up into her throat and strangle her. His hands were roughly kneading the soft, pliant flesh of her breasts, and she could feel her skin begin to bruise on top of the painful welts that were already there.
He thrust in and out of her unmercifully, and she wanted to die from the pain of his size and the thought of Carl standing outside while this horrible man fucked her half to death.
"I'm going to flood you in a minute," he choked out. "I'm going to fill that cunt of yours so full you'll be flooded."
His own words and her pleas excited him to the breaking point, and with each new knife-like stab he could feel his semen begin to boil in his testicles until he burst forth deep into her belly.
"Uggggghhhhhh," he gasped, "I'm coming
... coming ... now ... here it is!"
She could feel the walls of her vagina grasp his cruel pulsing cudgel in an automatic reaction, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she felt him withdraw his limp, flaccid rod from between her legs. She could feel the small, sticky trail of sperm he left across her thigh as he moved away from her. He grunted as he rolled off her and lay back in a sated stupor, and she turned her head to the pillow and cried until she fell asleep. She thought all motion had been drained from her with the events of the last few weeks; but no ... no, they hadn't....
Later she was awakened by a knock on the door, and when she opened her eyes, she realized that her previous lover had left and she was there alone and aching. My God, she thought, who the hell could it be this time. Then her heart jumped as she thought that perhaps it might be Carl....
"Who is it?" she called out hopefully.
All anticipation drained from her as the answering voice came back:
"It's Anderson," the voice said. "Open up, I want to talk to you . .
CHAPTER TEN
Eventually Janice became accustomed to life in Guaymas, which suited her much better than had the sterile heart of Guanajuato. Her work at the Ape and Essence became routine; certain customers came back to her time and time again, and after the first session with each of them she had catalogued their desires and needs much as a baseball pitcher makes a book on the batters he has to face. After a time, no request of her customers surprised her, and she found that she was able to satisfy them all, particularly after one of the older girls introduced her to the anesthetic wonders of cocaine. Mr. Anderson was pleased with her work, and after he was sure that she would no longer try to escape, he gave her her freedom to do what she pleased in the daytime.
This was like heaven to Janice, who had been a virtual prisoner for the better part of six months. She puttered around the village, taking special delight in going out to the docks and talking to the fishermen, who patiently tried to help her improve her Spanish and even took her out on occasion in their crude wooden boats. It was then that she was able to most completely forget her life at the Ape and Essence; when she was alone with one of the old men on the ocean, bobbing up and down in the little boats like corks in a bathtub, alone with no companions but the sea, the sky, and the wind. Eventually she even made a hesitant return to sculpture, and her first piece was a present to old Juan, the fisherman she knew best-it was a rendition in stone of his gnarled old hands grasping a bit of fishing net.
And underlying all her calm, happy moments, punctuating the often dull routine of her night life, was her romance with Carl Leggett. The affair had to be carried on in the most circumspect manner, or else Anderson would have had one of them transferred to Yucatan or someplace even more dreadful, and since Carl's job kept him fully occupied in the daytime, they had very little time to spend together. Even so, their moments with one an-other were happy ones, made sweeter by their brevity, and all in all, Janice had to confess that she could have done much worse.
Once in a long while she found her mind wandering back to her days at the School, and at those times memories of David Poland flooded her with tearful nostalgia. But she thought of him less and less as the months went by, as she came to fit more comfortably into her new life. After all, she reasoned to herself whenever she found herself yearning for former times, I've always wanted an exciting unusual life, and you couldn't ask for anything more exciting than this-a high-paid whore at an exclusive night club in an exotic foreign country, with some of the richest men in the world as her customers; and an alter life as a sculptress to boot. She knew, though, that if she ever lost Carl-and the chances of that were not exactly slim, especially if they were to be found together in the off hours-life would take on an entirely different tone....
And then one day, she found herself standing outside Mr. Anderson's office-he had called her for some sort of conference-and as she was about to come in, Carl came up behind her.
"Janice!" he said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"Anderson sent for me," she said. "What about you?"
She saw his eyes go wide with fear. "He sent for me too ... he said, his voice trailing off as they both realized what was about to happen.
They stood there in the doorway, hand in hand, staring into one another's eyes, not daring to take that final step through the door and not daring to turn and run, just standing ... standing....
