Antonio snarled, "Get on top of your aunt, Amy! Like the old hag" did to you! Hollywood style!"
"I won't!"
Antonio showed white teeth in a sardonic laugh. He reached for a metal object leaning-against the wall. He jammed this long cylinder against Amy's naked left buttock.
Amy screamed and leaped. Searing electricity lanced her tender flesh. "That's-that's-a cattle prod!" she stuttered.
"It sure is," Antonio said, "and if you don't do as I say you'll get another shot...."
* * *
INTRODUCTION
By Leonard A. Lowag, Ph. D.
This waggish, whimsical, and facetiously bawdy piece of burlesque I found to be uniquely anomalous in nature. While resembling a grossly caricatured satiric conundrum on the one end, the material is at the other extreme a hyperbole of scatology (dealing with feces and organs of excretion) and psychologically known within the human race. This yarn is one which may have been spun at the Elizabethan Court, when the English language was spoken forthright and to the point, with no thought to the absence of euphemism, and, in fact, with emphasis being placed upon extremely vocal phonetic words and phrases. The English poet Chaucer in his RIME OF SIR THOPAS and other works, was also one who was won't to expel whatever word or phrase met his fancy, the more direct and graphic the greater his literary fulfillment. From the standpoint of comedy, THE PLUNDERED VIRGIN embraces the oldest known form of humorous satire. Comedy has been variously denned in different ages. In classical Greece, it was rigidly separated from tragedy and was grossly extravagant. With Moliere it became realistic and pictured the behavior of people. Shakespeare mixed comedy and tragedy in the same play as do writers today. It was Thorndike who said "Comedy mimics the deeds of men so as to appeal largely to their sense of humor." This tale falls more into the category of the farce, inasmuch as the humor is aroused by horseplay, with the principals being humorously caricatured to a ridiculous degree. Farce differs from comedy in degree only. The aim of both is to excite mirth, but while the latter does so by a comparatively faithful adherence to nature and truth, the former assumes to itself a much greater license and makes use of any extravagance or improbability that may serve its purpose. How well does THE PLUNDERED VIRGIN fall into this sphere!
Farce existed at least as far back as the days of Aristophanes. In the Middle Ages, buffoonery and comic dialogue were introduced but took firm hold with Gay's BEGGAR'S OPERA and Samuel Foote's similar works of wit. A true comedy today must of necessity have a satiric point or be a character study or else possess wit. It may have serious moments and be thought-provoking but it must chiefly arouse our mirth by intelligent means. True satire is a literary work employing ridicule in attacking, with more or less serious moral intention, some vice or folly of persons, institutions, or of society in general, and is generally directed toward hypocritical society and to all humanity who parades itself as morally pure while in private exhibiting the most shocking behavior. Our story is also reminiscent of the parody, whose intention is a reduction of the subject material to the absurd. As in the old "burlesque" its method is to set forth a situation in a ludicrous light by emphasizing its incongruities, oddities and inconsistencies. is a combination comedy, satire, farce, and parody, as it relates a humorous imitation of a serious situation, employs ridicule on a typically human behavioral pattern, and emphasizes the inane character of society. The story revolves about a modem family composed of Uncle, Aunt, and Niece, and her prospective bridegroom. Vacationing in the interior of Argentina, they become the target of one man's obsession of hate and revenge. This villain, who, by the way, is the Chief of Police in the small South American village, subjects each member of the family to the most satirical forms of sexual behavior. The viciousness with which he metes out his foul and depraved punishment in the most diabolical and heinous manner is offset by the utter incongruity of the deeds and by the reaction of each character to them. While clinging to their mid-Victorian standards of breeding and morality, each individual in the family engages in and responds favorably to the most degenerate of behavior. Every sexual perversion in the scale of deviation is encountered by this unbelievable group: homosexuality, sadomasochism, incest, perverted practices such as sodomy and oral eroticism, voyeurism, and exhibitionism, with emphasis being placed on coprophilia in which the excretory functions (defecation) serve as the primary means of obtaining orgasm. From a psychological viewpoint, such experiences dealing with coprophiliac events tie in with the desires and gratifications and the experiencing of pleasure and displeasure during the first years of life, largely centered in the gastrointestinal tract. This repulsive but by no means uncommon form of perversion generally stems from a fixation at the anal level of development when, following the stage of biting, erotic excitation is experienced by the child with the gradual shifting to the alimentary canal and the feces, where the processes of their retention and expulsion become central in the experiencing of pleasure, mastery, and pain. Feelings of autonomy, of accomplishment, of possessiveness, of shame and doubt, and of rebellion are experienced with the sensations which accompany the retention and expulsion of the feces and the process of attaining bowel control in compliance of parental demands. The gastrointestinal tract thus is fundamentally involved in the early molding and expression of individual behavior patterns, attitudes, feelings, and of the character of relationships with others. It is quite common for psychotic children to have been toilet trained before they reached the anal phase of psychosexual development. As a result they not only fail to experience the libidinal gratification associated with the normal erotization of the anal area, but are deprived of the feeling of control and mastery which accompanies toilet training achieved at about 18 months of age. This libidinal gratification has importance not only in balancing and neutralizing the aggressive drives resulting from the inevitable frustrations and over stimulations experienced by any child, but also in a more adequate development of the body-image.
In his fundamental work, THREE CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE THEORY OF SEX, Freud formulated for the first time his concepts of infantile sexuality. This formulation was in sharp contrast to the traditional views which equated sexuality with genitality and with the reproductive function making its appearance at puberty. Freud believed that the sexual development begins at birth, and designated the energy attached to the sexual instinct as libido. Describing the various steps or phases of libidinal development, Freud showed that originally the child's sexuality is not centered on the genital organs but on other parts of the body, beginning with the mouth, shifting to the anus, and followed with the actual sex organs. He believed that the infantile sexuality is at first autoerotic and that the sexual impulses at this stage find expression in various activities such as looking and exhibiting and a preoccupation with anal functions. One of the characteristics of this phase is the performance of physiological functions such as sucking or defecation which provide gratification of the component drives. When the child's initially autoerotic sexual impulses become directed toward other persons, they continue at first to be perverse in character. This can be seen in the young child's interest in the feces of other persons, the predominance of which may give rise to anal intercourse or to coprophilia. Likewise, the impulse to look and to exhibit may lead to voyeurism and to exhibitionism. A perversion may come about either through arrest or fixation at a pregenital stage of libidinal development or through later regression to such a state. In perversion, as in neurosis, the factor that disturbs genital primacy is castration anxiety. Under its influence aggression takes place whereby a specific infantile drive component becomes predominant. Unlike the neurotic symptom, the perversion provides a means of genital discharge, albeit one which fails to equal the gratification attainable by the normal person. In coprophilia, excretory functions serve as the primary means of obtaining orgasm. This perversion sometimes takes on a voyeuristic character; for example, a man may derive gratification from watching women defecate. Coprophilia too can be described as a defense against castration anxiety. By emphasizing the anal zone as a source of sexual pleasure, the difference between the sexes is circumvented and hence the conflict about castration is removed. The symbolic equation of feces to penis is thus confirmed. In some cases a fetishistic fixation is detected as a factor in this perversion. Fenichel stresses the combination of coprophilic, exhibitionistic, and sadistic elements involved in coprophilia in the joy of uttering obscenities.
Going from the serious to the ridiculous, the entire family group who canter through this tale, are more than willing victims of group perversion. Any two or more engage in sexual practices with a vigor and enthusiasm belying their outward identities. The orgies which they undergo are reminiscent of the old ritual orgies involving sexual perversion from simple voyeurism to lust murder. Group rape is practiced upon the two females, who, while enduring the pain and humiliation associated with such an act, show their approval in a sly and cunning manner. Sperling has suggested that in a group perversion there is generally a leader (in this case the dashing chief of police who harbors hate toward the Americans) who is a genuine pervert, with his "followers" participating in the perversion under conditions which are ego-alien to them. Doing so indicates the presence of a super-ego that permits substitution by a leader, or "induced" perversion. This may be true, indirectly, of all the story characters involved, including victims as well. Sperling further states that there is always a biological compliance and a readiness for sexual seduction which goes with his thought in this regard: "He only can be seduced who is capable of being seduced."
It is necessary that the reader view this manuscript in its proper context-as a bawdy, ribald bit of salacious buffoonery. It is for adult reading only, and then only by those sophisticated enough to laugh at the ludicrous events in the story as they unfold in an incredibly rapid manner, shocking and amusing the reader with the antics and speeches of the absurd and whimsical characters. Tuck this bit of burlesque into your library of erotica and show it only to those with the ability to comprehend and enjoy humor at the expense of our incredible, disputable, ambivalent society in which most of its members prefer in life the cloak of respectability and in death the MORT DUCE, the "sweet death" (death during coitus).
-L. Lowag, Ph.D.
CHAPTER ONE
Panting wildly, Amy halted on the edge of the woods, naked except for her scanty bikini bottom, her bra having been ruthlessly ripped from her lovely nineteen-year-old body back at the hotel's swimming pool by handsome Antonio, Santa Lucia's young chief of police.
Golden Argentina moonlight washed over her curvaceous thighs, highlighted her virginal breasts with their high dark nipples.
These Gauchos-they're sex crazy....
Hurriedly, she looked for a path that would take her safely back to the hotel where slept Uncle John, Aunt Emma and her fiance, twenty-three-year-old, blond Sig Nelson!
What a fool she'd been! Just another stupid American tourist! Sneaking out on Sig for a midnight swim-date with a man she'd just met that afternoon ... and who had tried to fuck her!
She'd expected other late swimmers; there'd been none. Smiling confidently, Antonio's strong hands had begun playing, dancing across her breasts, her flat belly, and lightly touching her cunt.
Sexual heat had inflamed Amy. His wonderful hands, his strong arms, the good clean masculine smell of his hairy chest ... Antonio's fingers had crept inside her bikini bottom, moving through her thick red pubic hair.
She felt his cock, hard and round and big, pressing against his swim trunks. Her flesh cried that that prick enter her, break her maidenhead, pump its magic white fluid into her throbbing vagina ... and then common sense had returned, driving her blood cold.
Maybe she was nuts-call it old-fashioned, if you will-but she'd saved her maidenhead for her husband, and she and Sig were to be married within three weeks, right after reaching the U.S.
Antonio's curved index finger had entered her cunt, moving upward toward her hymen. Although her flesh danced with hot thrills, she'd leaped to her feet, batted his hand aside, and had fled.
Swearing angrily, Antonio had reached hurriedly out, clawed her bra from her-and Amy had run into the woods, enormous hard young breasts jouncing, darkness suddenly engulfing her.
She knew the woods. She and Sig had strolled through it, hand in hand, directly after arriving this afternoon at this Santa Lucia resort where Uncle John had come for the hot sulphur baths. Uncle John had a touch of arthritis.
Poised now, trembling, she listened, red head canted-but heard no sounds of pursuing Antonio.
She had ditched him when she'd made that last sharp turn.
Her cunt throbbed. Antonio's fingers had driven her sex-wild. For one moment she almost returned to the pool. Surely by now Antonio had recovered his good senses. He'd apologize, and they'd swim....
No, she'd go to her hotel room.
And Antonio-He'd probably left. When morning came, he'd be immaculate in whites, bowing and scraping, hair-line mustache smiling, acting as though nothing out of line had happened.
Ahead lay a small clearing. Very high grass covered it. A trail wound through it. Amy walked carefully, suddenly aware of her bare feet.
Ouch!
She'd stepped on a thorn. She stopped, raised one foot, balancing herself-and then, it happened!
Something smashed into her rigid leg. Something wrapped itself coldly around her calf. A snake-he'd struck her! She screamed in wild fear. And then, she saw that a snake hadn't hit her-for she saw her attacker!
A huge man had leaped out of the woods. Moonlight showed him clearly. He stood at least seven feet tall. He wore only a black breech-cloth. His skin was olive red. Plainly he was an Indian. Suddenly she remembered reading about the Tierra del Fuego Indians living south of Santa Lucia.
They were the world's tallest people, she'd read. They were also experts with the Gaucho lasso-the bolo. This lariat was thrown at animals. It had a rock on its end. This rock circled the prey and then entwined around the lasso to hold that prey captive.
This Indian's lasso had wrapped itself around her leg. She remembered screaming again. The Indian jerked hard on the tense rope. Amy plunged ahead. She saw the huge boulder coming up to meet her forehead.
Then, darkness....
She came to in pitch blackness. I'm on a boat. I'm rising and falling. Her head ached. She lay on her back. She tried to sit up. She couldn't. Her arms and legs were spread out and tied to the bed.
What the hell?
She heard clop-clop. She heard a horse fart loudly. She knew where she was, then-she was on a travois hung between two horses. The travois was covered completely with a canopy.
The horse ahead farted again, louder this time. Stink permeated her prison. She fought her bonds, lips compressed, but this did no good. She realized wide bands encircled her wrists and ankles.
Thongs or ropes were tied to these bands, then anchored solidly on the stretcher's pole sides.
Sudden terror turned her blood to ice water. She realized, suddenly, she was being kidnaped. She, an American, a tourist-being kidnaped in Argentina. It was hellish enough to be kidnaped in your own land!
Who had snatched her?
She didn't know. She'd seen only the big Tierra del Fuego Indian. Why had she been kidnaped? That answer was simple. Uncle John was a wealthy lawyer. Uncle John and Aunt Emma had reared her from babyhood after that plane accident had killed her father and mother.
Uncle John practiced international law. He was an authority of international law, being one of the U.S. lawyers who'd convicted the Nazis at the famous Nuremburg Trials, over twenty years ago.
Darkness swept in, momentarily claiming her. She heard a man say, "Is she all right?" and she thought, dimly, "Is that Antonio's voice?"
She wasn't sure. Her head ached too much.
The man spoke Spanish. She'd taken two years of Spanish in high, had boned up on it for this trip, but still was inadequate in the language.
She heard a deep, guttural male reply, "She's still sleeping," also in Spanish.
That should be the big, huge Indian.
Now another voice said, "We'll make her comfortable at the haciendal" Spanish, also-a woman's voice, whining and thin.
"See that nobody looks in on her," the first voice said.
The woman laughed-sharply. "At this hour of the night, senor? And on the lonely pampas of our country?" She cackled shrilly.
Amy again passed out. When she came to the second time she was strapped down, spread-eagled, to a bed. She was stark naked. She'd been awakened by a huge fly crawling along the moist lips of her cunt.
She twitched her cunt. The fly buzzed away, circled, came back, landed on her cunt's right hp, began gingerly moving. He felt good, driving passion into her, making her hips writhe, her teeth become clenched. Jesus, I'm a hot bitch!
She'd been a fool to hang onto her hymen these nineteen years. Her girl friends had all been fucked ... most of them many times. Still, she wanted her maidenhead intact, for wasn't that the prize item a girl was supposed to give her husband, the man she'd spend her life with?
But she couldn't stand the fly. Her cunt twitched again and this time the fly left for good. She swiveled her head, looking about.
The gray walls looked like whitewashed adobe. A beamed ceiling was overhead. Three windows were set in the thick walls. The floor was red tile and the room had another double bed, a table and a few chairs.
Gray dawn was creeping in. Through" the windows Amy saw a green expanse of grass, and beyond, the endless sweep of the Argentina pampas.
A cow mooed. A burro brayed. She was on some farm. She struggled against her bonds, screaming.
The door opened.
The hag was aged, bent over, clad in flowing dirty dark dress. She sloughed forward, bare feet slithering, gray hair hanging in greasy ropes. She cackled something, and Amy shivered, remembering the female voice she'd heard while being transported to this hacienda.
"What're you doing to me?" Amy demanded.
"Heh?"
Amy realized she'd spoken English. She repeated her question in broken Spanish. Sunken eyes lighted.
"You're going to get cohido."
"Cohido?" Amy didn't know the word.
Again, that inane cackle. "Yeah, I know what the word is in English. You're going to get fucked!"
Amy thought, You're insane, and asked, "Why was I kidnaped? And who kidnaped me?"
The ancient hag didn't answer. Her bleary eyes stared at Amy's cunt. Amy saw a red tongue snake out and wet thin, cracked lips.
The bloodshot eyes were riveted on Amy's cunt.
Amy realized her cunt sagged open, her body juices thick on her vulva's red lips, for a number of huge blowflies had crawled across her, making tingling sexual desires dance in her virginal flesh.
Hurriedly, she pulled her cunt's lips together. She'd spent hours practicing with the tip of her hairbrush handle just inside her cunt, with her tightening her vulva's lips around the plastic, preparing for Sig's cock on their wedding night. Therefore, she had good cunt control.
The hag's eyes lighted as she saw Amy's cunt go closed. "Ah, hah," she breathed, and she moved forward, dirty clothing rustling, the stink of her unwashed old body ugly in Amy's nostrils.
"Get away!" Amy said sternly.
Again, another cackling laugh; again, bare old feet shuffling. Now the ancient head was directly over Amy's cunt, looking down at Amy's female bower with its thick red pubic hair.
"Heh, heh, heh, que una pucha bonita!" What a beautiful cunt, Amy translated. The filthy head started down over Amy's crotch, tongue working in snaggled tobacco-stained teeth.
My God, she's going to tongue me off!
Amy remembered summer camp two years ago. She'd come unseen upon two of her camp members locked in a Lesbian position in a clearing in the woods. Shamelessly, she'd watched, hidden and secure, her own sexual secretions running down the insides of her thighs.
"Goddamn it!" Amy screamed. "Go away, bitch! You're not breaking my maidenhead! You filthy, ignorant slut-!"
The hag hesitated, for Amy spoke English, and then the hag said in Spanish, "I don't understand," and her head came lower, ever lower.
Amy twisted her hips desperately, but her leg bonds gave her no play. The greasy head sank lower. Now Amy felt the hag's hot breathing, scorching her belly, and then the hag's tongue touched her, making her pull her cunt into a small tight impenetrable line.
Now the crone had both knees on the bed, her head flat on Amy's cunt, her tongue probing here, there, seeking entrance, with Amy stubbornly locking her cunt closed, muscles tight and strong.
She felt the hag's bony fingers under her buttocks, straining upward. The fingers were like a skeleton's-all bones, long, no flesh. She smelled the unwashed ancient body.
Repulsion stormed Amy's soul, drew her flesh into hard muscles. The hag's head bobbed, tongue flat as it ran over Amy's hair, licking it like a mother cat licks a kitten's fur.
Amy felt the long nose puncture her asshole. Each time the hag's head came down, the crone's nose ran into Amy's anus. Suddenly something flashed before Amy's straining eyes. The hag had imprisoned Amy's head between her bony knees.
The crone reached back, caught the hem of her flowing dress. She pulled the dress around her waist. With horror, Amy saw that the woman wore nothing under the dress. Amy stared up at the hag's crotch in terror and repulsion.
She saw a long, sagging cunt, now white with juices, the lips trembling with sexual passion. And beyond the cunt, round and brown and hairy, was the ancient's anus, throbbing in and out.
Amy fought her bonds, trying to free her arms so she could heave this disgusting thing from her face, but her efforts were useless-and, slowly, the cunt came down, always down, intending to settle over Amy's mouth.
My Jesus, she's going to settle her cunt right over my mouth!
Violently, Amy twisted her head, hoping to avoid the down-coming filthy female opening and, in her wild efforts, she forgot her own cunt and, unconsciously, loosened her contracted cunt lips.
The crone's tongue instantly shot into Amy, who gasped. To her surprise, Amy's gasp was one of sexual joy. The tongue tickled and touched the right spot, and Amy, despite her objections, suddenly loved what was being done to her.
Her femininity responded wildly, for the tongue entered rapidly, darting in and out, loving the lips of Amy's opening. Dimly, Amy realized the filthy hag was an expert with her tongue, for she'd responded almost instantly, her feminine fluids hot and flowing.
My God, this is wonderful! Amy's buzzing brain screamed.
Shame hit her. This was obscenity. Sex was holy, and meant only for man and woman, in the age-old Adam-and-Eve formation, the man covering the female, her breasts under his chest, hard and rigid.
Amy knew that revulsion should have held her, but revulsion did not possess her. She realized, dully, that her body's sexual demands had overcome her sense of morality. Fear hit her that the hag's tongue would break her hymen.
And Sig had said, once or twice, that he'd never marry any woman but a virgin, but perhaps he'd been joking, hadn't he? One never could be real sure about Sig. He was always kidding and joking. Still ... What had happened to this old bitch's tongue?
For the crone's tongue had completely changed shape. No longer was it flat and broad. It had rolled itself into a pointed spear. Although Amy had never had a male cock in her, she imagined a prick would feel like this tongue.
The tongue was rock hard. It darted here, then there, probing, feeling, driving passion spinning. Amy felt it touch the taut membrane of her hymen. For one moment she thought her maidenhead would break under the round tongue's pressure.
Recklessness, sired by the demands of the moment, thrilled her.
Let the goddamned thing break! I've had the stupid thing nineteen long years. Had I a bit of sense I'd lost it my first summer camp when I was eleven when that preacher-the camp counselor-had me on my back....
Then common sense caught her. She'd have to somehow let the hag know that she wasn't to break her hymen. But how would she gain her attention?
The hag had her head down, tongue and lips slurping. Without thinking, Amy jabbed a forefinger into the wrinkled asshole. This brought about the desired effect. The hag raised her head, lips -rimmed with white.
"My-my-" Amy searched for the word hymen in Spanish, then blundered ahead with, "My hymen-don't break it, please!"
"I won't break it. I am saving it for a man's cock."
Amy screamed, "Get off me!"
But again, the head went down; again, the tongue found the sloppy opening. Amy suddenly realized she still had a forefinger in the hag's asshole. Hurriedly, she pulled it free, suddenly smelling the finger's filth even over the crone's unwashed stink.
She stared up at the filthy cunt and anus, seeing the cunt again coming down-slowly, surely, dooming her. Again, she tried to wriggle her head, hoping desperately to evade what hung over her, but the crone tightened her bony knees, holding Amy's red head in a strong vise.
She squeezed Amy's aching head hard, making Amy's eyes see spots and then, without warning, the vise-like grip broke-and the cunt came down directly over Amy's mouth, open at that moment in a wild pain-filled scream.
Bristling ancient hairs scratched Amy's lips. Unconsciously, her tongue shot out and, without thinking, she rammed her tongue into the open, gaping cunt pressed tightly against her mouth.
Amy fought for breath, her nose in the wrinkled anus. She felt the old cunt's lips tighten around her tongue, pulling upward on it. Evidently the crone had been fucked many times and knew how to fuck, for the muscular control of her cunt muscles far exceeded that of Amy.
Amy's tongue was pulled forward hard. Then the crone's cunt's lips opened, releasing Amy's tongue, but before Amy could drag her tongue back, the cunt had come down swiftly, gripping her tongue at an even lower purchase.
Heat struck Amy's tongue. Moist dampness touched her taste buds, for the crone had apparently had a fast sexual expression. To Amy's surprise, the ancient's come was dulcet sweet. She'd expected come to be bitter. The white fluid was like syrup against her taste buds.
For one moment, Amy's tongue started to make a rapid, invading movement but she caught her emotions in time. She had almost started fucking with her tongue! This surprised her. She had read and heard about Lesbians fucking tongue-in-cunt, and each time she'd felt sick inside.
But now she'd almost responded to Lesbianism. What had come over her? By sheer will power she kept her mouth closed, tongue clenched behind her teeth. She'd not go six and nine!
The ancient cunt rubbed against her lips, hairs bristly. Come smeared itself over her lips and nostrils. The crone farted, the stinking aroma fanning against Amy's nose. Amy struggled but could not escape. She wished she'd pass out cold again!
Anger flooded her. Were she to ever get free, she'd kill this toothless bitch! Through anger came passion, for the crone's tongue was deep inside her, tickling the rim of her maidenhead.
Driving heat shot through Amy's sinews, making her hips revolve and rise to further absorb the probing round tongue. Lights flashed before her eyes; her ears buzzed. Every fiber of her curvaceous young body broke into wild sexual release, driving gizzum into the ancient's gobbling lips.
Liquid fire raced through her, making her mouth open in a soundless scream, muffled by the hairy flesh over her lips. More come flowed into her gaping mouth, sugaring her taste buds and laving her gums, and her hips worked like mad, rearing up and smashing into the ancient's mouth.
Curving talons cupped her flaring buttocks, tips digging deep into Amy's sex-hungry flesh. A forefinger curved, entered Amy's gaping crack, then played there, dancing over the hairs rimming her asshole, the tingling sensation driving even more come spurting from Amy's sloppy cunt.
The finger entered Amy's anus, moved around the circle, touching the tender spots there-the tickling, happy spots that made you burn and scream and twist in rampant sexual joy!
Deeper, deeper, tongue-deeper, deeper, forefinger. Tear my hymen out, ram yourself deep into my rectum!
What would a man's prick be like when a woman's tongue was such paradise! Many times she had masturbated, but self-expression was nothing like this. Without thinking, she farted loudly, the forefinger splitting her wind. Then, again, the finger, deep in her rectum, throbbed and pushed, driving Amy to delirious muffled meanings.
Her mouth opened, her tongue yearning to shoot out, enter the gaping old cunt overhead-but, somehow, by strong will power, she kept her tongue locked behind her white teeth, giving way to passion again as the crone's lips sucked her clitoris, making her ovaries wild with dancing sexual joy.
Suddenly, all ended.
Without warning, the crone was ripped from Amy. The long tongue was jerked from Amy's throbbing vulva. The old woman hit the floor and rolled over, crying in pain. She sat there, staring up at two men.
Amy stared, too.
The huge Tierra del Fuego Indian stood there, the tallest man Amy'd ever seen. Corded muscles rippled in the gray light of dawn. Dark eyes, half hidden under shaggy black brows, studied Amy's naked loveliness, the wide mouth a savage and cold slash under the beak nose.
Amy shuddered.
Her eyes moved hurriedly to the other man. This man had jerked the crone from her by inserting his forefinger into the old woman's asshole and throwing her aside. Now he wiped his forefinger carefully on a fine white linen handkerchief.
"Got shit on my finger," he said. He spoke to Amy. "Did you enjoy your ride out to this hacienda?"
Amy found her voice. "I thought I heard your voice, when I was tied to that travois." Antonio de la Vega merely laughed.
CHAPTER TWO
"You've kidnaped me!" Amy snapped. "I'm an American citizen!"
Antonio's fine eyebrows rose. "You don't say," he taunted. He spoke excellent English. "Let me tell you one thing about Latin America, baby. Under the Napoleonic Code only the rich have rights in Latin America. From the Rio Grande down, Latin Americans have but one thing for Americanos-hate!"
"You won't get away with it!" Amy spat.
Her heart sank. He spoke truth. Under the Napoleonic Code that governed all Latin American countries you were guilty until proven innocent and you became innocent by buying off public officials.
"A few weeks ago an American ambassador was machine-gunned down in a Banana Republic," Antonio said, "and even your State Department could do nothing about it-so do you think Uncle Sam will shed tears over you, an ordinary citizen?"
"But my uncle-Uncle John-"
Antonio's blue eyes clouded. Odd, Amy thought, how he has blue eyes, and all other Latins have dark brown eyes, but still his skin is much lighter than theirs, and his hair is almost blond-light brown, I guess you'd call it.
Now those blue eyes became ice. " I know all about your Uncle John, Amy. In fact, I know too much about him...."
"What'd you mean?"
For sudden ice had encased naked Amy. Something about Antonio's voice ... Suddenly Antonio spoke to the huge Indian. "Watch her closely, Carlos!" Carlos had had his dark, beady eyes riveted on Amy's clearly visible cunt. He jerked his huge muscular body back to the present. "Si, maestro Antonio!"
"And don't fuck her, understand!" Carlos wet his lips. "I understand." Antonio said, "If you fuck her I'm having you whipped until you're dead, you Tierra del Fuego dog!"
"Senor-"
Antonio spoke to the crone. "And no more of that tongue work, understand! American women are foolish. Some of them save their hymen for their husbands, the saps-and thus miss much fun before marrying. Does she have her maidenhead intact?"
"It is all in one," the hag drooled, "and awaits your hard prick, oh my beloved master!"
Antonio spoke to Amy. "You still got your cherry?"
"That's my business. Let me loose-"
Antonio bowed, said, "Some other day, senorita," and left.
He was sitting in his ornate office in the Palacio de Gobierno in Santa Lucia when Uncle John entered, sweating under the sullen sun, and apparently in a hurry.
Antonio climbed to his feet, all smiles. He bowed from the waist and said, "Ah, the illustrious Senor John Martin, the international lawyer. The day is hot, no? And you have come to visit me, senor?"
"What's going on here?" Uncle John asked shortly.
Antonio's finely plucked brows rose. "Going on? I do not understand!"
"Read this, please?"
Uncle John dug a folded paper out of the pocket of his sport shirt and handed it to Antonio, who unfolded it and sank slowly into his ornate swivel chair, blue eyes on the newspaper print pasted on the note.
"What in the name of heaven?" Antonio asked, reading aloud. "Amy kidnaped. Await further orders." Antonio's eyes were level. "This is a joke, is it not?"
"She didn't come in last night," Uncle John said.
Momentary doubt struck Antonio. Maybe Amy had told somebody she'd had a late swim-date with him? He shouldn't have dated her. He should merely have had Carlos kidnap her....
But, that afternoon, he'd seen her with Sig at the hotel pool, and her luscious thighs had immediately given him an erection. He'd sounded her out cautiously and had been surprised when she'd agreed to meet him at the pool.
Now, Antonio spoke cautiously. "Perhaps your niece has met a man here-a man who has stirred her deeply...."
"She's mentioned no man. She's not the kind to lay up with a man-a stranger-over night. You've seen the young man with us? Sig Nelson? She's been engaged to Sig for a long time. I don't like your suggestion, Senor de la Vega!"
"I am sorry, sir, but one must view a problem from all possible angles." The chief of police carefully studied this tall, rawboned, American lawyer. Although in his early sixties, Uncle John looked tough-muscled and hard, Antonio reasoned. Intelligent, rugged....
Antonio leaned back in his swivel chair, eyes closed. Uncle John thought the chief was thinking of Amy's disappearance. Antonio wasn't. Once again, he saw the vision-the hated vision....
His brother-once Hitler's right hand man-hanging from a rope, limp and dead-a public hanging....
"The big Americano lawyer-he built a solid case against your brother...." another Argentinean lawyer stated. This lawyer had been at Antonio's brother's long trial. "He prosecuted your brother hard. Without the gringo prosecuting your brother, your brother would have gone free...."
Now Antonio opened his eyes. "This kidnapping must be a hoax. Santa Lucia has only 6,000 people and I know almost all of them. I can think of nobody that insane, Senor Martin!"
"Then why this pasted-together note? And where is Amy?"
Antonio ran his hand across his forehead. "This stuns me. It doesn't make sense. She was gone over night, yes. She is gone now, you say. But this must be a joke, Senor Martin."
Uncle John and Chief of Police Antonio de la Vega talked things over carefully and to some length. Santa Lucia's one daily newspaper should not be notified of Amy's disappearance. The closest U. S. embassy was at Buenos Aires, some twelve hundred miles northeast. Antonio could see no use in disclosing Amy's disappearance to the embassy.
"You are a famous man, Senor Martin," Antonio said. "If word got out your niece had disappeared-" He shook his head slowly. "There would be world-wide repercussions. Newspapermen and photographers would flock in on little Santa Lucia. The ones who have kidnaped your niece-ah, they would become scared, and perhaps-" Antonio spread his well-manicured hands suggestively.
Uncle John nodded. "You're right. All we can do is wait."
"And I shall have my men busy while you wait," Antonio assured. "Santa Lucia, like all towns, has an underground. And word comes from my spies there-Is your niece one who plays practical jokes?"
"Not this kind," Uncle John assured.
Worried Uncle John left and Antonio de la Vega leaned back in his expensive chair, locked his fingers across his flat belly, and enjoyed a brief siesta, thinking that this evening Carlos, the huge Tierra del Fuego Indian, would have to pay a secret visit to Uncle John's good-looking wife, Aunt Emma, who, Antonio reasoned, might make a darned good fuck despite being in her early fifties.
Antonio knew that Aunt Emma had never had a child. Therefore her cunt would be small, he reasoned. He slipped to sleep thinking of Aunt Emma's hairy crotch, envisioning thick pubic hair hiding a very small female opening.
He checked the resort hotel at noon. Aunt Emma was very worried. The kidnapers had not contacted Uncle John again. Sig Nelson stared at the floor, jaw hard.
Antonio noticed Sig's bulging muscles. Sig had been All American in U. S. football, Antonio knew. Tackle. Sig would be tough in rough-and-tumble.
Antonio reported that his men searched hotels and motels. No lead had come in from Santa Lucia's underworld.
"I think I should call the American Embassy in Buenos Aires," Uncle John said.
Antonio agreed this might be a good plan unless something showed up soon. Uncle John didn't know that Antonio controlled the telegraph and telephone station. Uncle John's call-or wire-would never reach Buenos Aires.
It-or they-would never get out of Santa Lucia, although Uncle John wouldn't know that.
Smiling, Antonio left.
Aunt Emma that night went for a walk in the garden. A big hand came in from behind, clamping over her nose and mouth.
The hand held a wet sponge that smelled of chloroform. Aunt Emma opened her mouth to yell.
The sponge filled her mouth. The world blurred. Aunt Emma realized, with sinking heart, that she was passing out.
When she awakened she was on her back on a bed, wrists fastened over her head and ankles secured to the bed's bottom corners.
Her sick brain reeled. She tried to puke but couldn't. She stared up into an old and ugly female face. Crackled lips showed dirty snagged teeth.
"Heh, heh, dearie...."
Thin lips rattled Spanish. Aunt Emma hadn't the slightest idea what the hag had said.
A female voice said, "She likes you, Aunt Emma!"
Aunt Emma swiveled her head toward the voice. She stared at Amy spread-eagled in the adjoining bed. "Amy, how did you get here?"
Amy told her. "And how did you get here, Auntie?" Aunt Emma told Amy. Amy told her aunt that Antonio de la Vega was behind their abductions. Aunt Emma said, "Antonio? The chief of police? I can't believe that! He's working every minute now to find you!"
Amy laughed bitterly.
"How'd I get here?" Aunt Emma asked.
Amy told her that the giant Indian, Carlos, had carried her in, aided by the crone, and both had tied her down after undressing her.
The hag stood beside Aunt Emma, plucking first Aunt Emma's right nipple, then her left. Aunt Emma tried to bite the hag's wrist but couldn't get her head down that far. The crone kept mumbling something, fingers plucking nipples.
"What does the fool want?" Aunt Emma demanded crossly.
"I hate to tell you," Amy said.
"Oh, this is no place for proprieties, niece. What does the fool want?"
"She wants to shit in your mouth!"
"She what?" Aunt Emma choked. "I'm an American citizen. I've got rights. Shit in my mouth?"
"That's what she says!"
"Is she crazy?"
"Who isn't crazy in Argentina?" Amy wearily countered.
Amy was tired and sick at heart. Her young body ached from being stretched out. Flies still persisted in tickling her cunt. She kept remembering her sexual session with this ancient Argentina hag.
Amy was angry with herself. In the heat of passion she'd almost stuck her tongue into the old hag's cunt!
Time and time again, Aunt Emma had impressed her that her hymen should be broken only on her wedding night, and then by her new husband. What had got into her to almost break under passion as she'd almost done with the old crone?
Oh, yes, she was tired-dog tired ... And very scared ... Her raw nerves cried for release. Had things been normal, Amy assured herself, she'd never have wanted to tongue-lap the old hag!
Yet she felt her cunt burn and itch. She felt sure that if the hag mounted her again, her tongue would dart into the old woman's sloppy cunt! She'd jab in her tongue and suck and lap and lick....
My God, have I gone sex crazy?
Completely bushed, Amy sacked out for a while, dreaming of her and Sig naked, with her lying on her back somewhere, huge breasts jutting upward, cunt sweating and lusting for the push and entrance of Sig's cock!
She and Sig loved making preliminaries. His lips sucked hers, she sucked his. Then Sig kissed her titties, sucking their nipples, and she got very, very hot, her hips writhing as whiteness seeped from her cunt.
Sig's mouth cleaned her navel. His kisses continued down, to her surprise, and stopped on her cunt, where his tongue played. And, to her surprise, she stared up at Sig's cock, for her head was between his knees.
The dream was very real. She took Sig's prick between her lips, sinking his foreskin back, his knob salty-sweet between her massaging lips. Her tongue licked around his bulb, cleaning it and loving it. His cock tasted sweet as honey.
She remembered the old hag's come seeping into her mouth. God, how sweet it had been! And Sig's cock tasted just as good! Her ovaries were secreting continuously now. She felt Sig's wide tongue lick come from her red pubic hair.
Sig sure knew how to use his tongue!
She'd often wondered how big Sig's cock was. Married girl-friends had told her that much marital happiness depended on a husband with a big prick.
Now, in her dream, Sig's joy-prong filled her mouth to bursting.
"What does this chief of police want?" Aunt Emma asked.
Amy jerked back to the present. "Ransom money, I suppose. Isn't that why people kidnap?"
"Your uncle isn't wealthy. And what money we have is not readily available. It's in bonds and stocks. I doubt if Uncle John could raise ten thousand dollars in cash."
"That's a lot of money down here."
"This idiot!" Aunt Emma screeched. "She's got her ass right over my mouth, the dirty bitch!"
The hag had clambered up on Aunt Emma's bed. She squatted over Aunt Emma's face, crack open as she prepared to evacuate her bowels. The seamed old face beamed in glee. Frightful cackling broke from the cracked lips.
The skinny ass came down. Aunt Emma tried desperately to evade by switching her head from side to side but the hag's crack settled directly over Aunt Emma's gaping mouth.
Aunt Emma's screams were muffled but evidently Carlos had been outside in the hall, for the giant Indian came rushing in. He batted the hag from Aunt Emma's face. The crone landed hard on the tiled floor spewing Spanish curses.
Carlos kicked the old woman in the buttocks and drove her out the door. Antonio de la Vega entered, wearing only white cotton shorts, a motion picture camera hanging around his stocky neck.
"Good afternoon, girls!" he said cheerily. "Hope you're enjoying your stay here on the pampas!"
Amy clamped shut her lips. Aunt Emma called him a son of a bitch. Antonio merely laughed.
He took the camera from around his neck. He spoke to Carlos. "Get them ready, Carlos. The young one goes on top of the old one in the six and nine."
"Si, senor," the massive Indian said.
There was a row of electric push buttons on the wall. Antonio pushed one. To Amy's surprise her arms and legs were suddenly free. She lifted an arm. A wide copper band surrounded her wrist.
Four chains were connected to the bed's four corners. Each chain had an electric wire running down between its links. To the end of each chain was attached a wide electric magnet. These magnets had held her down, attached to her copper arm and leg-cuffs. Antonio had touched the button breaking electricity running into Amy's magnets.
Amy heard the dim putt-putt of a motor. Logic told her this motor made electricity. She carried this logic further. Santa Lucia had power lines running in. Were this house in Santa Lucia, a motor would not be necessary. Was this hacienda somewhere out on the pampas miles from nowhere?
Antonio snarled, "Get on top of your aunt, Amy! Like the old hag did to you! Hollywood style!"
"I won't!"
Antonio showed white teeth in a sardonic laugh. He reached for a metal object leaning against the wall. He jammed this long cylinder roughly against Amy's naked left buttock.
Amy screamed and leaped. Searing electricity lanced her tender flesh. "That's-that's-a cattle prod!" she stuttered.
"It sure is," Antonio said, "and if you don't do as I say you'll get another shot in your ass-harder this time, bitch!"
"I won't-"
Amy never finished her sentence. This time the prod almost electrocuted her. She leaped onto Aunt Emma's bed. Within seconds she lay belly-down on her aunt, Aunt Emma's head between her legs.
Aunt Emma also screamed. Antonio had given her a shot of the cattle-prod, also. Amy's belly flattened Aunt Emma's big black-nippled breasts.
"Now suck your aunt," Antonio ordered, "and lap and use your tongue, baby!"
"I'll die first!"
"Do as the madman says," Aunt Emma said. "Otherwise, he might kill you. The man is plainly a maniac."
Amy glanced at Carlos, the Indian. He stood watching, face impassive, but his breech-cloth strained, and Amy saw the outlines of a huge cock looking like the cross section of a five-inch pipe.
My God, what a prick he's got!
"Auntie-"
"Do as the madman says," Aunt Emma repeated.
Aunt Emma used an ordinary tone of voice. No, Amy thought, her voice shows anticipation, or am I imagining things? Amy decided she'd heard wrong. Aunt Emma had to be as scared and mortified as she was!
Aunt Emma spoke to Antonio. "Why do you want us in a Lesbian position?"
Antonio showed his white teeth in a wide grin.
"I want movies of you two lapping each other because I want to show them to an internationally famous lawyer who's staying at the Santa Lucia Inn and taking hot sulphur baths. I want to show this lawyer his wife and niece lapping like a couple of Hollywood movie stars."
"Why?"
"That's my business. Amy, stick your tongue in your aunt's cunt, and make it snappy! Auntie, you start tongue-fucking your favorite niece!"
"You're an evil son of a bitch," Aunt Emma told Antonio.
"The whole world is evil," Antonio agreed. "You two going to start Frenching each other or do I have to goose you again with this prod?"
"You can kill me," Amy said.
"Oh, don't be a nut!" Aunt Emma said.
Amy felt her aunt's tongue touch her pubic hair. The broad tongue licked, moved here, then there, and Amy had a queer sensation: Aunt Emma had done this before! No, she had to be wrong!
She suddenly remembered Aunt Emma's Sewing Club. Fat women, skinny women, giggling, laughing, making fun of men! And then, Aunt Emma's tongue moved into Amy's portal.
A thousand good sensations, tickling and splendid, speared Amy's flesh, making her blood jump, her heart take on a new, strong cadence. She found her cunt's lips opening and closing, loving Aunt Emma's doubled tongue that now played, hesitant and hot, against Amy's taut maidenhead.
Unconsciously, Amy's hips began moving up and down, and, in her extreme excitement, she farted loudly, the sound ringing out over the burr of Antonio's camera as Antonio, the camera glued to one eye, moved here and there getting good shots of Aunt Emma's tongue darting in and out of Amy's very damp cunt.
"Bueno, bueno," Antonio murmured. "I got your face well, Aunt Emma! Anybody could identify you. And your tongue-ah, how well it photographs, going in and out of Amy's pussy! You have tongued much before, my love?"
Aunt Emma didn't answer. Her head smashed up and down hard, tongue entering and touching Amy's maidenhead, then darting back. Aunt Emma groaned in supreme bliss, sounds muffled by the damp whiteness of Amy's nether lips. Amy had had explosion after explosion, gasping in sheer joy as her ovaries had gladly responded.
Amy had started out pretending she was Frenching her aunt, but, as passion increased, she discovered her hungry tongue sweeping along the inner lips of Auntie's cunt savoring the damp juices found there. Her mind reeled, her body spun to passion, her own cunt worked in and out-and, without really realizing it, she soon had her tongue deep in Aunt Emma's oozing orifice, licking and lapping and swallowing greedily.
Aunt Emma's tongue swept, cleaned, laved. My God, Amy's throbbing brain said, my aunt's a Lesbian-And Amy gripped her aunt's head hard between her soft thighs, her juices spilling down Aunt Emma's hungry throat.
Somewhere miles away, Amy heard the whirr of Antonio's camera. Her throat filled with Aunt Emma's secretions, she swallowed and swallowed, the gism sweet to her taste, thrilling her and driving her own hips to wilder gyrations.
"Lift up Amy's head," Antonio suddenly ordered Carlos.
Carlos lifted Amy's head by her hair. Amy's lips and nose were white with come. She stared dully at the giant Indian's cock but a few inches away, suddenly realizing Carlos was now stark naked.
"Let me rub my ass in her face!" the hag screamed, dancing in ragged glee, her filthy dress up around her waist.
Antonio smashed his fist into her face. Blood spurted and he threw her out the door, this time locking it. He whirled on Carlos, face white with fury. "Goddamn it, jab your cock in Amy's mouth, you son of a bitch!"
"But, master, I-"
"I what?"
"I didn't know what you wanted me to do, master."
Carlos clamped his camera to an eye, centering the lens on the enormous peter. "I want a shot of your prick in her mouth to the balls. And with her lapping and loving your cock, sabe?"
"I understand, master!"
Lying on her aunt, Amy stared at the Indian's prick. Dimly, her brain registered facts. The cock was a good ten or twelve inches long. It was as big around as a tea cup. No cunt in the world could take that cock! Nor was her mouth big enough to encompass that huge red billiard ball!
Huge hands grabbed Amy's head. The prick swung in closer. She screamed. She'd made an error. She'd opened her mouth. The prick rammed into her gaping mouth.
She couldn't take it. It was too big. She had the greater part of the knob between her lips but the entire knob was too large to enter. Carlos quickly solved that problem.
He hooked her mouth with his curved forefingers, spreading her lips wide. Pain lanced Amy. Then the knob slid into her oral passage. And behind it came the huge length, ramming deep into her throat.
She took the Indian to his huge, pendant balls. His testicles, round and big as golf balls, whammed into her jaw. She smelled his masculinity, strong in her nostrils, her nose buried in his matted pubic hair.
She tried to rear back and pull her head away from the huge prick, but Carlos grabbed her ears, holding her securely. His prick slid in and out of her mouth to his knob. She thought of biting. Quickly, she discarded that plan. The Indian might kill her!
For the enormous Tierra del Fuego redskin was completely involved in fucking her mouth. At the same moment, Aunt Emma's round tongue invaded deeper, straining Amy's hymen. Amy loved her aunt's tongue. She hated this big prick that strained her mouth, made her cheeks ache.
Dimly she glimpsed Antonio's camera recording all. Now Carlos hunched her mouth hard, jabbing his cock even deeper into her throat. At times Amy thought she'd choke. She tried to puke. She couldn't get anything up. The enormous knob of Carlos' prick held everything down!
The huge tool slid in and out. Carlos still held her ears firmly. Her head bobbed back and forth. The knob rubbed against her palate, slid down her larynx, buried itself deep in her throat.
Here the bulb hesitated, its length shot. Then, it withdrew, dragging upward, flattening her tongue. It came to her teeth, again hesitated, the big red bulb dancing as the prick stiffened preparatory to another invasion.
Then, an odd thing happened to Amy.
At first, she couldn't believe it. But, each time the bulb moved out, her tongue washed it, loved its crease just behind the knob. Her damp tongue moved the foreskin, found the piss-hole, gaping and wide.
Her throat screamed for the prick to again slide down, deep and damp and comforting. She had, of course, heard of cock suckers. The very thought had driven her blood cold. But here she was, a huge prick in her mouth, and she, against her will, found her tongue loving that cock, savoring its sweet fragrance!
And the same was true with her cunt! Her cunt, that had never received a man's cock, had been twice invaded by female tongues-and each time she had enjoyed the rolled-up tongue, probing and loving.
Have I gone insane?
And Aunt Emma-respected, beloved ... She's a Lesbian?
Amy's head bobbed and weaved, her lips sucking hard on Carlos' prick. Her loins trembled, her belly was on fire; she drove her head ahead, then pulled back, her lips stern and compressing.
Why doesn't he go off? Jesus, he's really fucking my head now! He's rearing in and back, dragging that lovely, big prick across my tongue.
What would Carlos' come taste like? Suddenly, Amy wanted to taste that gism, roll it between tongue and palate, savor it and love it before swallowing it and making it a part of her person, her tissue, her blood.
The come of the hag had tasted like honey. So had the brief bit of come she'd received from Aunt Emma before Carlos had roughly jerked her tongue from Aunt Emma's oozing cunt!
Amy was so engrossed she didn't see Antonio lay his camera on her bed. Nor did she see that handsome Argentinean drop his shorts to reveal a long stiff cock.
She didn't notice Antonio, cock in hand, move behind her. She did notice, though, that Aunt Emma's tongue had left her cunt. The tongue, damp and wide, now licked around Amy's asshole, spreading Amy's come.
She didn't hear the bed creak as Antonio got on his knees behind her. Antonio's balls dragged against Aunt Emma's face. Aunt Emma licked them briefly, then reinserted her tongue into Amy's pussy.
Amy was completely involved with Carlos' prick. The giant Indian beat against her, cock zooming in and out, and Amy was sure he would soon ejaculate. She did, though, notice Antonio's hands gripping her waist, but she thought, in her delirious excitement, that the hands belonged to Aunt Emma.
She didn't know that Antonio centered his knob directly over her lubricated asshole. She became aware of somebody painfully parting her buttocks wide, but she attributed this also to Aunt Emma. And then, with a hard cruel hunch, Antonio shot his cock to the balls into Amy's round and tight asshole!
Amy screamed in pain, the sound muffled by Carlos' cock. Terrible pain lanced her rectum, almost making her have a bowel passage. She realized, through red pain, that somebody-evidently Antonio-was fucking her in the asshole.
Desperately, she tried to spit out Carlos' prick. He just rammed it in even deeper. She cried again, but again his prick muffled her scream of pain. And Antonio's knob, big and throbbing, pushed deep into her rectum.
Her pain was so great that she forgot about Aunt Emma's tongue, ranning around the edge of her tense maidenhead. Carlos' huge hands gripped her head, for he was very hunched now, pouring his prick into her gaping jaws, his moaning loud in the tense stillness.
Other harsh masculine hands gripped her waist. Hard fingers ground into her flesh, pulling her spreading hips back far. Antonio pumped against her buttocks, moaning in sweet pain. She heard his thighs smash against her ass. She felt his balls fit into her crack, then retreat.
She was getting it from three directions-in the mouth, the cunt, and asshole. The stabbing pain had left her rectum. Now her asshole had stretched enough to allow Antonio's prick to enter and pull back more easily. Suddenly, the tightening of Carlos' huge hands on her head jerked her back to the cock plunging in and out of her mouth.
Carlos was going off. She felt his loins tense, grow rigid, and then his cock bounced high against her palate, hesitated a moment-and then his come spewed into her throat, splashing and filling her mouth.
Her tongue shot out and licked his balls. His testicles were sweaty. This salty taste mingled with the sweet taste of the giant Indian's come.
Amy's bead rolled around the prick, wild with joy. Her mouth filled with honey as she tongued the enormous bulb that now was shrinking, its message of joy delivered. And, at that moment, Antonio went off in her rectum.
She stiffened, her curvaceous buttocks held hard against his throbbing, leaping balls. She felt his gism zoom into her, smashing into the curvature of her colon. Antonio screamed in happiness, a wild Gaucho cry.
Amy gulped and swallowed Carlos' come. She choked over the enormous load he'd ejected. The world spun, grew black, and she dimly realized she was falling. She felt Carlos' cock being jerked from her mouth. Antonio's cock was wrenched out of her rectum.
Blackness held her before she hit the floor.
CHAPTER THREE
The masseuse was a big, heavy-breasted woman with a large ass-and Uncle John loved big asses. The naked masseuse stood on hands and knees, legs spread apart, as Uncle John screwed her dog-fashion.
The incident was taking place that night in the hotel's bathhouse. The masseuse had been massaging Uncle John after a hot sulphur bath when her smock had sagged open and a huge breast had fallen almost into the barrister's face.
Uncle John had pulled the breast down and sucked the protruding dark nipple, feeling the masseuse tremble as passion gripped her. Uncle John lay on his back. He had a towel over his middle. Within seconds the woman's hand was under that towel massaging Uncle John's hard-on.
Uncle John's hand went down and played with the woman's hairy cunt, forefinger gently tracing its damp outlines. The smallness of the big, husky woman's twat surprised him. Aunt Emma was a small woman and his cock could never hope to fill her box, but this small opening-
"How much?" Uncle John unceremoniously asked.
"Five hundred pesos."
"Five hundred-!" Uncle John caught himself, doing quick arithmetic. Argentina pesos were almost worthless, around two hundred and fifty making a U. S. buck. This woman wanted slightly more than two U. S. dollars.
A bargain, he thought gleefully.
"Okay," he said. "How do you want it?"
The masseuse spoke broken English, having had English-speaking clients. "Anyway you want to give it to me," she said.
"Up the ass is the way I like it best."
The women kissed Uncle John's erection, running her tongue around the knob. "Then up my cula it will be. But you pay me first?"
Uncle John swung off the rubbing table. He walked to the locker, cock swinging. He was proud of his cock. Although it wasn't huge, it was still above-average size. He was proud of his ability at sixty-one to get an immediate erection.
He had long ago abandoned courting women to get into their pants. For many years he'd coldly propositioned them: Would they or wouldn't they, and how much if they would?
When you paid them, they had no ties on you. When a young lawyer, he had fucked each of his secretaries but had soon discovered this had led him into one thing: trouble.
He had liked his stint as an international attorney at the Nuremburg trials. He had slept with a different woman each night he'd been on the Continent. He had long ago abandoned fucking his wife. For one thing, he grew tired of a woman's cunt within two weeks. Secondly, he should never have married.
He didn't love Emma, but he had a protective feeling toward her. He liked her a lot, but he'd never really loved a woman. But Emma was a good old girl-she'd been a good mother to Amy-
For some time he'd suspected Aunt Emma of being a Lesbian. He had propositioned a few of the women in his wife's social club, and each had politely turned him down, thereby increasing his suspicions toward Lesbianism in the group.
He and his wife had separate bedrooms at home. Here at the hotel they also had separate rooms. Now, putting a five dollar U. S. bill in the masseuse's hot hand, he wished sometimes his wife would suck him off-or take it up the rectum. The rectum was much tighter than the mouth, experience had taught him.
Clutching the money, the masseuse dropped to her hands and knees on the floor, her wide-beamed ass protruding upward invitingly. Uncle John gazed down at the wide crack, his cock becoming even more rigid.
He went behind the woman on his knees, spreading her legs and bringing her ass backwards, hands gripping her waist. As her ass moved back, her crack opened wider; he saw her anus, coated with bristly hair and, below her asshole, the beginning of her cunt, now hanging open and damp.
The woman laid her wealth of black hair on her folded forearms. She reached back and tickled Uncle John's testicles. Her hand went up and gripped his cock, fondling it lovingly.
She laid Uncle John's knob against her asshole and moved it ahead. It would be a tight fit and would need lubrication. Her hand fell. Uncle John gripped his cock with his right hand, moved it down, and entered the woman's big cunt, driving in to the balls.
The female gasped in delight. Uncle John automatically pumped three times, then withdrew his penis. His knob was white with her excretions. Carefully, he rubbed his knob against her asshole, lubricating it with her come.
After he'd repeated this four times, he felt he had her anus greased sufficiently. He placed his bulb directly over her asshole. The woman, knowing he wished entrance, wriggled her buttocks, moving her ass even further back.
This woman, Uncle John thought, knows her business....
Knob centered, Uncle John lunged ahead, driving his bulb into her rectum. The woman screamed in delightful pain. Then, the bulb was inside her, her brown anus contracting over Uncle John's cock.
The hardest part was over. She had taken his cock like the professional she was. Uncle John began pumping, gripping the big ass securely. The woman opened and closed her anus, massaging his plunging cock.
Passion tore at Uncle John, making his heart pound madly. His loins trembled; his belly muscles became flat and hard. His right hand dipped down, forefinger crooked. The forefinger entered the cunt, seeking the clitoris and finding the little jewel-box. He squeezed the bud slowly, carefully.
The big ass before him became a thousand times more active. The woman grabbed his balls, her body speaking in mad release. He felt her hot come spray his fingers.
"Do that-again-" she begged.
"Hasn't anybody done that to you before?"
"Yes. My first husband-But so long ago-"
"It's very easy. You take the bud-the clitoris-between your thumb and forefinger-like this-"
He didn't finish. The woman went again, ass twisting violently, bending his cock severely. Uncle John almost slid out of her. His bulb, though, caught. He lunged ahead hurriedly, again burying himself to the testicles in her rounded, soft feminine flesh.
He decided to hell with her. He'd fuck her and forget her. desires. Thereupon, he placed both hands on her hips, pulling her ass back and forth. He looked down at his cock as it went in and out.
Brown goo now covered his penis. You needed to go to the bathroom, baby, he thought. The anus kept contracting and expanding, massaging his prick. He leaned forward on the big broad back, cock driving in to the balls. Won't take long now, he thought, feeling the first symptoms of his coming.
Deep within him, dark forces gathered, clamoring for release in sexual outburst. The harder his hips plunged in and drew back, the stronger these voices became. They banded, grouped, broke again, then joined in howling, strong force.
Won't be long now, he thought.
Evidently the whore also guessed at his nearness to coming, for her ass activities became more active. Her dark-ringed anus closed, grabbed, pulled, then released, and then closed again, grabbing the barrister's stiff cock.
Suddenly, Uncle John's balls broke.
He screeched something, fingers digging the soft flesh. He threw himself on her broad back, biting the woman on the shoulder. The woman screamed, too, for the barrister's teeth pleased her. And her ass went very wild.
Her anus was a suction tube, grabbing and releasing. She pulled every drop, every iota, of gism from the stiff prick, bending it as she drained it. Slowly, she went into a sitting position, Uncle John lying on his back under her.
While sitting on him, she vibrated her buttocks severely, loosening his cock within her anus. Then, she slowly straightened her legs, sliding up Uncle John's prick, the knob gently falling free.
She looked down then at )iis cock. Brown streaked, it was fading rapidly. Hurriedly, she dropped to her knees, bent her head and took the melting prick in her mouth, rolling it between her lips as she enjoyed the brown savor.
Uncle John breathed heavily, rib cage rising and falling. For some reason he wondered what Sig Nelson was doing. Sig was in another stall taking a hot bath and massage.
Uncle John didn't know what to think of Sig. He knew that Sig and his niece were madly in love and had been for some time. He couldn't understand Sig. He was sure Sig hadn't fucked Amy. And what kind of a goddamned fool would it be that would marry a woman without first laying her?
He'd tried to make Sig a close friend, but he just couldn't do it. Sig always kept himself apart, never bending too much. Sometimes he thought that Sig Nelson was a virgin.
Could he have seen Sig at this moment, he'd have thought otherwise, for Sig lay on his back and a small, dark-haired woman, naked and with hanging breasts, was sucking Sig's huge cock.
Sig gripped the lovely masseuse's small head, eyes closed as he enjoyed the bliss of her tight lips running up and down his shaft. This one had wanted two thousand pesos, which had been all right with Sig, who had obligingly sunk to the tiled floor, penis jabbing upward expectantly.
Although in her early twenties, the masseuse had had false teeth, much to Sig's surprise ... and delight. She'd carefully removed her plates, laying them on a table, and then had quickly kissed the tip of Sig's straining cock.
Sig's prick leaped upward. The dark-haired girl laughed, kissed Sig on the mouth, and then encased his knob with her lips, massaging the bulb between her toothless gums-and Sig almost went off on the spot!
How sweet, how tantalizing, how nerve-jumping! The gums working, the knob rolling, the mouth going down, always down, the cock sliding past palate, deep into damp hot throat ... Sig closed his eyes, fists knotted.
He was, he decided again, a goddamned fool.
He should have thrown Amy down and fucked her! Ever since high school days, he and Amy had been buddy-buddy-and he still hadn't screwed her or made her suck him off, or gone up her rectum!
Sig couldn't remember his mother. She'd died when he'd been a baby. He'd been reared by a stepmother. When he'd been eight, he'd crept into her bed, his father being at work, his penis hard, and, before he was aware of what had happened, he and his new mother were fucking.
Thereafter, he continuously sexed his stepmother and her sisters, his aunts by marriage. It had been his stepmother who had sicked him on Amy while Sig had been in high.
"She's the rich lawyer's only kid. Hell, she isn't even his-she's the niece of his wife's. Make a play for her. But for god's sake, don't fuck her! Play it safe and get the old boy's dough when he kicks the bucket!"
Sig's football scholarship took him to the University, where he accordingly studied law-international law, in fact, a point which made Uncle John very happy. Next year he'd enter his junior year and Amy her frosh year there. They'd marry and set up housekeeping ... on Uncle John's dough.
Things had worked out as his stepmother had prophesied. Once married to Amy, the path ahead was clear. Graduation, entering Uncle John's law office-Many times, heart pounding, blood jumping, he lusted to lay Amy but, at the final moment, had pulled back wisely.
Uncle John was wrong. Sig didn't love Amy. Sig Nelson loved only one person-big, blond, wide-shouldered, football hero Sig Nelson.
He corrected that statement. Right now, he did love somebody else-but it wasn't Amy, wherever Amy was. This was a transient love, based on sexual feeling. And it was directed toward the lovely little girl bent over his penis.
Baby doll, baby doll!
Lips sucked, a tongue revolved around his cock. And the tongue occasionally darted out, lapped his balls, its damp touch driving his testicles deeper back into his bag.
Suddenly, his mouth began watering, and he knew why. He reached out, hooked his hand in the crack of the girl's ass, and pulled her toward him, her lips missing not a stroke.
She knew what he wanted! She was no beginner! Her rounded knee touched his head, then lifted, cleared his face-and she was astraddle him. And Sig gazed up at a small cunt, oozing a bit of whiteness.
He swallowed in anticipation, eyes on the twat and the asshole above it, round and clean and puckered and brown. His arms encircled the girl's buttocks and pulled them down, her legs parting as her cunt came down on his face. His tongue snaked up, -rimmed her anus, and then drew back, savoring what it had found around the drawn-up passage.
Then, again his tongue lanced out, this time striking the cunt's lips. Head bobbing, he ran his tongue around the orifice's nether lips, tasting the white fluid, swallowing it gladly.
The cunt opened, begging his tongue to enter. Sig never had seen such muscular control before. And his tongue rammed into the cunt, the cunt's lips enfolding him.
Sig lapped, nose rubbing the female's anus. He felt the anus quiver under his nostrils. The hips suddenly flared down, covering his mouth completely. Come fell from her, filling his sucking, grasping mouth.
He rolled her come in his mouth, enjoying its sweet taste, loath to swallow it. But more would be coming. This female was young and hot. He felt her lips, grabbing his cock, pulling upward. Now her lips sank down. Her tongue lanced out, wrapped around his testicles, darted back, touched the bottom edge of his asshole-and a million stabbing pangs of sexual delight speared his huge muscles, made his corded thighs tremble.
He knew he was close to coming. He could feel it in his bowels-a dark, hot feeling, something hammering inside, demanding expression. The girl sensed it too, apparently; she worked harder, head going up and down faster. And again her ovaries were active, her white fluid flooding his mouth with great sweetness.
"I'm coming-God, here I come, baby doll!"
Sig's testicles shot his semen into the hungry, pulling mouth. He felt his gism splash against her throat, suddenly filling her mouth. She worked harder, twisting her head, toothless gums pulling massaging-and she sucked all he had out of him, leaving his testicles empty and dead.
Slowly, her mouth surrendered his prick, gave it a final loving lick. She sat on his head, his nose deep in her anus, his tongue also deep in her throbbing cunt. She swished his come in her mouth, eyes closed in bliss.
Gently, Sig pushed her off him. His nose and mouth were -rimmed with white stickiness. His tongue moved out, cleaned his lips, and he looked at the girl, still sitting on the floor, high proud breasts sticking out, her eyes still closed as she savored his gism.
Sig watched her. Delight showed in her face. She swallowed slowly and then opened her eyes. Her eyes gleamed.
"Bueno, amado!"
Sig and the girl got to their feet. She led him by his limp cock to the washbasin where she washed his prick and balls carefully, kissing his knob occasionally. Sig's hands smelled of cunt. He washed them and dressed.
"You will fuck me again?"
"Why not?" Sig said.
Sig and Uncle John walked across the green lawn to the hotel. Behind them the tall Andes stood white-capped in moonlight. Sig decided it was time to show some anxiety toward Amy.
"Where in the hell is she?" he asked Uncle John.
"We'd best check at the police station." Uncle John stabbed Sig a hard glance. "You and she never had a quarrel-? And she ran off to spite you? And then left that silly pasted note behind just to scare the hell out of you?"
"We've never had a serious spat. I swear it on the Bible, Uncle John."
"I don't know just what to do," Uncle John said. "We're tourists here-We've got no rights. I can't speak the language. You can a little."
Sig went to the University in San Diego. Tijuana was but a few miles south. Many times he went to the Mexican town and laid whores. During his time in bed with prossies, he'd learned a little Spanish.
They went to the police station. Suave Antonio de la Vega wasn't in, but his sergeant said everybody was looking for Amy. Uncle John decided to call Buenos Aires and the American embassy if Amy didn't show up before morning. He and Sig returned to their hotel.
Sig went to his room. The boy's worried sick, Uncle John thought. Uncle John looked at Aunt Emma's closed door. No light showed beneath it. His wife was asleep. He'd not awaken her. There was no reason to awaken her.
Uncle John awakened at six with a hard-on. He wished the big masseuse were there to suck him off, but she wasn't. He decided to take on Emma. Any port in a storm....
To his surprise, his wife's door was unlocked. Emma's bed was made up and she wasn't in the room. Uncle John's eyes fell on a small round object lying on Aunt Emma's bed.
It was one of those rolls that a man kept motion picture film in. He opened the canister. The film would fit his projector. Within minutes, he and Sig were watching the film.
"My God," Uncle John said, "my wife! And Amy's naked on top of her. They're-they're Frenching each other!"
"Look at the cock on that dark-skinned son of a bitch who's ramming it into Amy's mouth!" Sig said.
The film showed only two faces: those of Aunt Emma and Amy. Only Carlos' cock and loins were shown.
"That poor girl," Uncle John said. "Look at that bastard spread her mouth and ram that prick into her throat!"
"I'll kill the son of a bitch!" Sig said.
Sig didn't mean that. He'd said it only to make it sound good. Inwardly, he decided that the next time he got Amy alone he'd not only fuck her properly but also go in her mouth and anus.
"That poor little girl," Uncle John repeated.
Amy didn't look unhappy to Sig. Sig thought she looked very happy, the big prick sliding in and out of her mouth. Suddenly she lunged ahead. The camera then showed a cock entering Amy's asshole.
This man's face was also unrevealed. This picture was not centered well and was a trifle unclear. Sig wondered why. He didn't know that the hag had tried to operate the camera while Antonio had impaled Amy from the rear.
"Jesus Christ!" Uncle John roared. "Some son of a bitch is hitting the little girl from the rear! And he's dragging his balls right across my poor wife's face!" Suddenly Uncle John paused, fists clenched.
"God Jesus, she's licking his balls now and then! You'd figure the goddamned woman liked it!" Sure Aunt Emma likes it, Sig thought to himself.
Uncle John, Sig, and Antonio de la Vega watched the film in Antonio's office, the chief of police studying the pictures carefully, his face very professional.
"Now they've kidnaped my wife," Uncle John said.
Antonio lifted a well-manicured hand for silence. "I'm trying to find some background clue as to where that picture was taken," he said.
The three sat in silence. The only sounds heard were those of the projector and the slop of lips against cunt, cock and anus. Finally the film ran to its dismal end. Uncle John shut off the receiver.
"Somebody's out to break me," Uncle John said. "Whoever's got the original of this film can drive me into bankruptcy through blackmail."
And also make a fortune showing it to church groups and social clubs, Sig Nelson thought.
"You see any background material?" Sig asked Antonio.
Antonio glumly shook his head. "Just an ordinary room and that's all, and not much shown of that. Why would anybody be out to get you, Mr. Martin?"
"I don't know," Uncle John said.
"You've had a lot of important court cases, I understand," Antonio said.
Uncle John nodded. "But that was in Europe.
And the U. S. and Canada. I've never had a case in any Latin American country."
"Then you'd have no enemies down here?"
"How could I? First time I've ever been in Argentina."
Antonio slowly nodded.
"This has gone far enough," Uncle John said. "I'm going to call the U. S. embassy in Buenos Aires."
"You may certainly use my phone," Antonio graciously said.
Central talked Spanish and no English. Uncle John spoke English and no Spanish. Antonio then talked to Central, getting the call through. Uncle John then reported to some U. S. embassy officer about the kidnappings. He was assured the full support of the embassy.
He talked for some time. He gave his name, address, location, stateside address, and much information on Emma and Amy, neglecting to mention the dirty film. When he hung up he was sweating.
Uncle John didn't know he hadn't been speaking to the U. S. embassy but to an old friend of Antonio de la Vega's in Buenos Aires who had assumed the role of an embassy staff member.
Uncle John said, "I wasn't promised much but I feel better."
Antonio asked Uncle John if he'd received another note stating how much ransom the kidnapers wanted. Uncle John said he hadn't. Antonio stressed that he had his officers and secret service men looking diligently for Aunt Emma and Amy. What else could he do?
"You're doing your best," Uncle John said.
"Your women are still alive," Antonio said, "and that means something. I'm personally going to investigate at the hotel and try to disocver if anybody saw your wife abducted and how the film got on her bed."
Uncle John breathed deeply. "All we can do is wait," he finally said. "Sooner or later these kidnapers are bound to tip their bands. Only thing they can be after is money, the way I see it!"
Antonio de la Vega nodded assurance.
Uncle John and Sig returned to the resort hotel. Uncle John told Sig he wanted a rubdown and hot bath, and he soon was coupled with a masseuse in sexual perversion, his prick in her mouth and his tongue loving her oozing cunt.
Watching the sexy pictures had given Sig a hardon. He thought of coupling with a masseuse, and then his eyes fell on a pretty little chambermaid. She was willing for a thousand pesos but afraid to do it in his hotel room because two girls had recently been discharged, she said, for entertaining guests sexually at the hotel.
But would Sig go to her house? She lived alone. Sig would go. She was just finishing her shift. Sig was a grand gentleman-a caballero-for he took her home in a cab!
She'd never been in a car before. She was afraid when the thing started to roll, but soon gained confidence and sat prim and straight, a true dama, a real Spanish blueblood.
Misgivings pulled Sig. Each turn of the cab's wheels took him into a more desolate territory.
Naked children ran across the filthy, hole-marked road. They were in one of Santa Lucia's most destitute barrios. Housewives stared at the cab and occupants. Sig almost told the driver to get out of this area. Then he looked at the little chambermaid's half-naked thighs.
For she'd pulled up her blue skirt, showing her luscious knees and legs. Even at that, Sig almost backed out. She must have sensed his indecision for she put a tender hand on his cock.
His prick was limp. She unzipped him and began playing with him, lips nibbling his cheek. She smelled healthy and womanly. Her big breasts pushed against Sig. The nipples were stone-hard. Soon Sig's prick became stone-hard, also.
He put his hand under her skirt. She wore no panties. Her pubic hair was thick and wiry and damp. She squirmed slightly so he could readily get his forefinger in her cunt.
His finger played in her moist small opening. She scooted down lower in the seat so he could get his finger in deeper. She closed her eyes. She breathed deeply. Sig looked down at her strong, big young breasts. They rose and fell to her passionate breathing.
All misgivings left him. He'd have taken her in the street if need be. Just then, the cab stopped before an ancient adobe building.
Naked children immediately surrounded the cab. They watched in silence, eyes round, bellies protruding. Sig noticed two small blond boys, evidently brothers. They stood side by side. Because of their straw-colored hair they stood out markedly.
Sig thought. Some gringo-or gringos-has gone through and left them behind, the poor little starved-out son of a bitches ... Again, misgivings. He wouldn't want to leave a poor bastard behind to starve in these filthy surroundings. He again almost told the driver to drive on, but then he caught sight of the little chambermaid's delicious ass as she climbed from the cab.
Her round behind bobbed enticingly, driving new rigidity to his prick. Her crack could be seen, for her dress had gone up into it. Sig got out, paid and tipped the cab driver, and dutifully followed her through an old iron door into a patio courtyard.
Chickens ran in all directions. Here, more naked and semi-naked children played. One sat on a pot taking a dump. He was so thin his ribs could be counted. His belly was distended.
Apartments were on the patio's four sides. The girl took his hand and led him through the gawking kids. Women scrubbed clothes on rocks with water in wooden pails. They gave him brief, impersonal glances as he followed the girl into her quarters. Evidently the chambermaid brought home other clients.
The door closed behind Sig. The room had an old table, three old chairs, and a sagging bed. Cooking was evidently done in the charcoal braziers out in the patio. A nickering candle burned in front of a small statue of the Virgin. From the walls saints looked down on Sig from their crude wooden picture frames.
The girl motioned Sig to sit on the bed, and he did. Within seconds she was stark naked, standing in front of him.
"You likee suckee or fuckee?" she asked.
"Both."
"Wheech she ees best?"
Sig put his arms around her waist and pulled her close, his head in her smooth belly. He got a whiff of clean cunt smell. His fingers met and went into her crack and spread her ass slightly as his right forefinger ran rings around her asshole. She shivered in anticipation.
She dropped to her knees between his knees. She got his pants down and pulled his cock though his shorts. His pecker had become limp. Her tongue did wonderful things, running softly across his knob, suddenly licking down and stroking his testicles.
His cock hurriedly responded. Soon he was on his back and she bent over him, her head bobbing and falling. Sig forgot his location. He forgot the Virgin Mary watching, along with all her saints. He gave himself over solely to her clinging, sucking lips massaging his rigidity.
Suddenly, his mouth began working. It was very dry. He reached out and caught the girl around the legs, raising her dress at the same moment to her waist. Her naked ass glistened in the dim light.
Carefully, he pulled her legs around. He got his head between their softness. He stared up at a small, damp cunt and above the female opening, a small round puckered orifice, glistening in black cleanliness.
He slowly pulled the cunt down. His tongue went out and became round and when the lovely hips came down his tongue entered the oozing cunt easily. He touched the clitoris, loved it, stroked it and was rewarded.
His spoon-like tongue immediately lapped her discharge. Whiteness ran down on his chin, laved his palate. She squirmed as passion tore her, her hips grating against his mouth as he sucked from her the last iota of her womanhood, his throat screaming for more.
His hips hunched upward, and her tongue laved his balls as he ejaculated his manhood into her hungry mouth. Later on, they fucked regular man-woman fashion, but there was little kick in it-for him, at least.
He then went into her rectum. She was so tight in her anus that he had to use some of her cooking oil to soften and grease her before effecting entrance. Even at that, entrance was difficult; one reason, though, was because his pecker was limber, having had so much use lately.
Her small hand moved back, found his drawn-up testicles and played with them. His forefinger went down; she spread her legs wider. Her buttocks came back, giving his prick deeper entrance and giving his hand easier access to her damp female opening.
Afterwards, testicles depleted temporarily, he slept, his wallet under the filthy pillow. It was dark when he awakened. She moved about in candlelight stark naked, and he watched through slitted eyes, his cock soon rising and demanding once again her soft feminine flesh.
He forgot about the disappearance of Aunt Emma and Amy. He reveled in sex, grunting happily in the night, his penis deep in her mouth, her cunt or her anus-until finally duty called him strongly. He'd have to return to the hotel.
He paid her, kissed lips that had, moments before loved his prick, and left. She told him that four blocks north was a pay telephone. From it he could call a cab. It was the closest telephone.
Sig never made it.
CHAPTER FOUR
"My arm hurts" Sig mumbled.
"Quit rubbing it," a woman's voice said.
Sig thought, That's Amy's voice, and shook his head slowly. His brains rattled. His head throbbed. He closed his eyes and tried to think. He remembered starting out for the telephone in that barrio. He'd gone through an alley. He remembered hearing footsteps behind, and then somebody had grabbed him in the night and something sharp had pricked high on his right arm.
"Amy," he mumbled
"Here, Sig."
By Jesus it was Amy!
"He's coming out of it," another feminine voice said.
By Jesus that was Aunt Emma!
Sig peered into the dark. He sat up, his back against concrete. He tried to rub his forehead. He couldn't. His arms were chained to the wall. His legs were also chained down. He wore only shorts and trousers.
What the Christ?
It all became clear to him. He'd been kidnaped also. He'd been given a shot while scuffling in the alley. He'd gone to sleep and they'd toted him here and chained him to this wall between Aunt Emma and Amy.
"Dawn's coming," Amy said.
She was right. Light was beginning to seep through high windows. Sig got the smell of damp concrete. Within seconds be saw both women clearly. Each woman sat with her back to the wall, "How'd you two get here?" Sig asked.
Amy and Aunt Emma told him. Sig related how he'd been kidnaped. Of course, he didn't mention the little chambermaid or being jumped in a stinking, shit-filled barrio. He lied. He said he'd been jumped on the hotel grounds.
"Did you see who jumped you?" Amy asked.
"I didn't. It was too dark. But the man-the main one-sure was powerful. I've met my share of tough ones on the football field but he was the strongest I've ever met."
"Carlos," Aunt Emma said.
Sig asked, "Who's Carlos?"
"The big Indian of the chief of police. Antonio de la Vega's big Tierra del Fuego Indian."
"Antonio?"
"He's the one that had us kidnaped," Amy said.
"I saw the film," Sig said, not thinking clearly.
"Oh, Jesus Christ," Amy said.
"We had to do it," Aunt Emma said. "Antonio took the pictures. That was the big Indian who-" She hesitated.
"Let's say it," Amy said bitterly. "It was the big Indian that had his huge cock in my mouth. And when Antonio had his prick in my-well, ass-the old hag took the pictures."
"They made us," Aunt Emma said. "They've got a cattle prod. One of those electric things they push cows around with. They gave me such a shot my left arm was paralyzed for an hour."
"The dirty son of a bitches," Sig said. "And that chief of police acted like he wanted to help us. I don't get what's behind this. So far, Uncle John hasn't received a note asking for a definite ransom. He's just received a note saying Amy was kidnaped, and then there was the film yesterday morning."
"Why the hell did we ever leave home?" Aunt Emma wailed.
Footsteps sounded outside. They appeared to be coming down a concrete stairway. The opposite door opened. First came the hag, hair disheveled, stinkingly filthy. Behind her crooning person came huge, bronze Carlos, the Indian. And behind Carlos came Antonio de la Vega, smirking and smiling.
"You son of a bitch," Sig told Antonio.
Antonio's brows rose. "Such foul language, gringo. Your shoulder-it is all right now, senor?"
"Fuck you," Sig retorted.
"Perhaps I shall do that sometime later," Antonio said easily. "I am a great one for it in the mouth or the rectum. But at the present time we need a little more new film for your Uncle John, you know."
"What do you hold against my husband?" Aunt Emma reported.
Antonio de la Vega's eyes narrowed. "That is for me to know and for you to find out," he said. He spoke to Sig. "You drove these women from their beds. We have only two beds with electric magnets. We didn't want you to be alone. So we obligingly put the women down here with you."
"You certainly are hospitable," Sig said.
The old hag cackled, eyes on Sig's trousers. "He looks as though he has a big cock," she said, eyes glistening as she wet her cracked lips. "How I would live to shit in his mouth. I love to shit in the mouths of all gringos, the dirty sons of bitches!"
Antonio carried the cattle prod. He pushed it against Sig's left leg. The resultant jolt tied Sig into a tight knob. Antonio shut off the power. Sig collapsed, shivering. The shock had been so strong that all speech had been knocked out of Sig Nelson.
Antonio scowled. "You have very strong batteries in this thing," he told Carlos. "The man almost smoked."
The hag fell to her knees beside Sig. She hurriedly opened his trousers, found his limp penis, and began sucking it, making cooing, loving sounds as her lips worked. My God, Sig thought, but she can really suck!
For his cock began to harden, despite the seriousness of his predicament.
Suddenly, the hag screamed. She leaped to her feet, clutching her buttocks. Sig also yelped. Antonio had jabbed his prod against the old woman's ass. As a result, Sig had also got a shock.
The crone spewed Spanish curses. She flew at Antonio, nails flashing, scraggly teeth bared. Antonio merely stuck the prod in her belly. She froze in her tracks, tied up by electricity.
Antonio turned off the juice. The hag collapsed, sobbing, cursing. Antonio gestured to Carlos. "Free the football player and the wife."
Carlos touched two switches beside the door. Instantly the magnets fell from the copper arm-and-leg bands of Sig and Aunt Emma. Sig looked at the switches, eyes thoughtful, and then looked at the magnets, lying idle on the lengths of their chains on the floor.
"Amy isn't coming?" he asked.
"Not right now," Antonio said, making a gesture toward Sig with the prod. Sig leaped out of range. "Get going up the stairs. You too, Tia Emma."
Carlos walked ahead of Aunt Emma, who walked ahead of Sig, whose eyes were of necessity on Aunt Emma's buttocks, for she was directly in front of him. Sig felt his cock tighten. Aunt Emma, for her age, had a very beautiful ass, he decided. But his decision was nothing new. For a long, long time he'd admired the ass of Amy's aunt from afar.
Sig Nelson's blood sang. Evidently Antonio was going to make more films for Uncle John. And these would feature him, Sig Nelson, in sexual unions with Uncle John's wife, Aunt Emma.
Sig realized he'd have to appear very reluctant to fuck Aunt Emma. In fact, he'd have to put over the impression he was being forced to have sex with Uncle John's wife!
His erection pushed against his trousers.
Antonio, prod in hand, trailed Sig, his eyes admiring Sig's behind. The hag stayed with Amy. The four-Carlos, Aunt Emma, Sig and Antonio trailed down a long hallway without windows and finally came to a bedroom. The windows looked out on a grassy yard.
Somewhere, Sig heard the putt-putt of a gasoline motor. He had heard electric light plants running and this sounded like one. If a guy could get to the light plant and knock it out-
A clever son of a bitch, this Antonio ... Had magnetic handcuffs and magnetic leg chains, the smart bastard. Therefore, he never marked or bruised the wrists or ankles of his victims....
Sig didn't like to be pushed around. A few had tried it on the gridiron-or in the boxing ring-or in real life-and each had paid for it. He now vowed that, someway, this sleek goddamned Argentinean-this crooked chief of police-would pay, and pay plenty-
Sig Nelson decided to abide his time. He grinned crookedly. What else could he do? That damned supercharged cattle prod was as strong as the Sing Sing electric chair!
When it hit you, you burned!
He wished the hag hadn't been left alone with Amy. The old crone was insane, he knew-she had to be, to have eyes that glistened like that! She might kill Amy. Sig suddenly decided he loved Amy. The revelation came as a shock. He'd taken Amy for granted for so long-
Now, Amy was in peril-dire peril....
I'll be a son of a bitch, Sig thought, and said to Antonio, "If that old bitch harms Amy, I'm killing you, greaser!"
"Fuck you, gringo!"
Fists doubled, Sig started to turn-and then the cattle prod hit him between the buttocks. Sparks shot out, paralyzing his anus. Sig realized he was powerless as long as Antonio held the prod. Asshole smarting, he continued climbing the stairs, still thinking of Amy, bound hand and foot.
At that moment, the hag was advancing on Amy. The crone had her dress pulled up around her skinny waist. She wore no underthings. Amy stared in fascinated horror, realizing she was at the insane woman's slightest whim, her heart thudding.
"This time-shit in your mouth!"
Drool trickled down the corners of the mad woman's trembling mouth. Her fingers shook as she pulled her stinking old dress over her head, revealing her skinny body, naked except for old run-over shoes.
Old breasts lay flat against skinny ribs. Two sagging nipples were dark and ugly. Long hair fell across bare bony shoulders. Amy closed her eyes, fists knotted, and tried praying, but still the hag advanced, old shoes clomping on the tiled floor.
"I shit-in mouth-"
Amy said, "I'll pay you not to. I'll pay you good."
"You no have money. You be killed when this is over. You can no pay me, never. I shit in mouth-"
"Why not fuck me?" Amy asked. "Your tongue in my cunt?" She hated the language she was forced to use, but she had to use it. "You can get my white stuff then-it's good for your throat."
The hag stopped, stared, eyes wild. She swallowed, throat bobbing. "It is good for my throat?"
"Wonderful for throat."
The greasy head cocked, lips pursed. Amy felt hope surge upward. Then, just as suddenly hope collapsed.
"No, I shit in your mouth!"
"I'll bite your ass!" Amy stormed.
The hag pulled Amy flat by gripping her ankles. Amy was pulled down on the floor. Instantly, the crone squatted over Amy's head, Amy staring up at the withered brown anus.
Amy screamed.
Slowly, the peaked buttocks came down, the asshole opening. Desperately, Amy bit the left buttock, teeth clicking and cutting. The hag howled and chortled, begging Amy to bite again.
"I like that! It was a good pain!"
The buttocks remained suspended six inches over Amy's head. Amy saw the old cunt, sagging and long, a red gash in gray hair. A drop of whiteness hung to the orifice's top. Another slash of white marred the scraggly pubic hair.
She went off when I bit her, Amy thought.
Amy remembered one day during her senior year in high. She'd been in the gym alone shooting baskets. Two girls she'd known had entered. She disliked both so she'd hidden behind the bleachers.
The girls had gone into the shower room. Soon Amy heard something that sounded like a leather strap hitting flesh. She had peeked around the open door. One girl was beating the naked buttocks of the other who lay over a chair, screaming in delight with each whack of the broad belt.
Amy had stared, fascinated.
The girl being beaten had screamed for the other to beat harder. Soon she'd have a climax, she claimed. The strokes increased in rapidity and power. Within a short time the girl over the chair shuddered, chattered through clenched teeth, and then had gotten afoot, her pubic hair white with come.
The other girl had dropped to her knees and licked the come from the beaten girl's cunt. Amy had pulled back, shuddering. She'd again hid and the girls had left, not knowing they'd been watched.
Suddenly Amy began biting the old woman's buttocks. She bit first one skinny buttock, then the other, teeth snapping like a mad dog's. Again, the old mouth opened, screaming in delightful pain.
Amy bit as though possessed. Within a short time her face became white with the hag's come as it spewed from the sagging old cunt. Amy licked and liked the sweet taste, and bit again.
Nevertheless, the ass came down, still down, and Amy bit some more, but still the anus came closer, always closer. Then Amy's nose was in the old woman's crack, and she couldn't move her head!
Her head was trapped.
Then, the excrement came, trickling out. Amy opened her mouth to scream. Her mouth became filled with brown goo. Through her muffled screams, Amy heard the crone's victorious cackle.
"I did it! I shit right in her mouth!"
Amy had to chew, or she'd have choked. To her surprise she found her mouthful rather sweet and not a bit grainy. This shocked her. She liked this taste. What had come over her? Had she gone insane?
The world swam, growing darker. She felt herself slipping into limbo, the world spinning. But before darkness mercifully arrived, her ears rang once more with the old crone's shout:
"She's eating my shit!"
Aunt Emma was made to he on her back on the bed. She climbed slowly onto the bed, eyes on the cattle prod held significantly by Antonio. Once on her back, she opened her legs wide-and Sig saw her cunt clearly.
Jezzus, she's got a tiny cunt!
Sig figured he'd seen his share of female openings, but he'd never seen one this tiny. Maybe it was because Aunt Emma had never had a baby? Tben he remembered a few childless housewives with whom he'd copulated and who had been, as he later said, all cunt.
Aunt Emma had just been made with a small pussy, he figured.
She had a wealth of thick, curly pubic hair-a forest of darkness through which her female orifice showed, outlines damp and certain. Without being aware of it, Sig got an erection just looking at her cunt.
Then the realization of what apparently lay ahead struck him with telling force. He was being forced to fuck Uncle John's wife, the woman who would become his aunt by marriage, once he and Amy were wed.
Holy jumping Jesus Christ, what will Uncle John think?
"Look," he said to Antonio, "this woman is the same as my aunt. Her husband is my best friend. And when he sees this film with me in bed with his wife-"
Good-bye Uncle John's money!
Antonio laughed. He slapped the prod against Sig's thigh. Sig was instantly petrified, electric shock holding him rigid. Finally Antonio released the button. Sig lunged for the Argentinean, but the long prod was between them, protecting Antonio who gave Sig another shot, this time in the crotch.
Sig's prick jumped as though alive. Sig froze again in his tracks. The juice was shut off. Sig had learned his lesson. He'd never rush Antonio as long as Antonio had the electric cattle prod.
"He's right," Aunt Emma told Antonio. "This is wrong. We'll never be able to respect each other again-he and I-"
"Maybe you won't live long enough to need respect," Antonio growled.
Aunt Emma's face paled. For the first time, Sig realized this mad Argentinean intended to kill them all. Again he wondered: Why?
Again, he sought motivation behind Antonio. Again, he found no reason why this small-town chief of police wanted them all killed.
"Fuck her!" Antonio growled, menacing with the cattle prod.
Sig stalled for time with, "How?"
"Any goddammed way you want to!" Antonio said shortly. "Mouth, asshole, cunt-even an ear, if you can get it into her ear!"
Sig said nothing.
"Take his pants off him," Antonio ordered Carlos.
Carlos slipped down Sig's pants and shorts, peeled them from him by making Sig step out of them. Sig didn't have a hard-on now. The cattle prod had blasted his prick into limpness.
He caught Aunt Emma sending his cock a swift glance. He might have been wrong, but had he detected disappointment in Aunt Emma's eyes because of his lack of an erection? Sig's blood jumped. Aunt Emma might prove a real hot piece of ass!
Still, he'd have to act as though reluctant, forced.
"Climb on her," Antonio ordered.
Antonio handed Carlos the cattle prod. He then picked up a small movie camera. He put it to his eye and centered it on Sig's head first, then Sig's cock. He lowered the camera.
"Work a hard on him, woman," he told Aunt Emma.
"How?"
"With your mouth, of course."
"I don't want to-"
Antonio spoke to Carlos. "Give her a little persuader." Before the Indian could goose Aunt Emma, Aunt Emma put her mouth around Sig's limp cock and started to suck.
Sig had been sucked off by experts. Once while playing UCLA football he'd gone to Hollywood after the game and had got a real blow job from a well-known TV producer whose hobby was blowing off football players.
That producer had been an expert. Sig knew one thing, immediately-Aunt Emma was an expert, too!
She was every bit as good as the producer!
Her lips pulled, massaged, sucked in, slid down. Within seconds, Sig's cock responded, his muscles thrilling to her tongue, her lips. She was especially good with her cheeks, whipping them in around his cock, then releasing them. Without thinking, Sig grabbed her by the ears, his head thrown back, his eyes closed, his entire body shivering with delight.
He forgot that Emma was the wife of Uncle John, and that he would marry Amy to get into Uncle John's estate. He forgot his surroundings, his danger. He forgot the camera held to Antonio's eye, whirring and recording. He forgot the deadly cattle prod held in the hand of the giant Tierra del Fuego Indian, at least seven feet tall.
He forgot everything but the lips of Aunt Emma, loving his rigid prick. His hips went in and out, jamming his cock to the balls against her lips. His hips picked up momentum and rhythm. So did Aunt Emma's jaws, tongue and lips as they pulled him, steadily and surely, to a male climax.
Occasionally Aunt Emma's tongue shot out, licking and cradling his testicles, drawn back in their wrinkled brown sack. Such licks sent Sig Nelson to new efforts, made his thigh muscles leap, his heart jump to new sexual passion.
Groaning with passion, Sig fell on his back, Aunt Emma's mouth clinging to his prick as he went down. Then Aunt Emma was astraddle him, head lifting and falling, with Sig's head between her legs.
Sig gazed up at that tiny, hair-lined cunt. Up further was her asshole, also hairy and brown, and not any bigger than her cunt. His reeling brain screamed as his arms went around her thin waist, pulling her cunt down to his mouth.
Aunt Emma also was a victim of sexual passion, all other considerations thrown to the winds. Her cunt rubbed back and forth across his mouth, teasing his tongue to find its opening. But Sig, having had this maneuver pulled before, did but one thing-he ran his tongue up past Aunt Emma's cunt and ran it around her anus.
Instantly, Aunt Emma ceased playing. His tongue, contacting her sensitive anus muscles, froze her as though she'd been stuck by the cattle prod. Whiteness poured from her twat, running into his face. And, instantly, Sig's tongue changed positions, sinking swiftly into Aunt Emma's gaping little cunt.
Aunt Emma was caught off guard. When she closed her cunt's lips she closed them around Sig's tongue, and Sig went about his delightful task.
Sig would have been surprised had he known Aunt Emma's thoughts. The ice is broken, Aunt Emma thought happily. Sig won't forget this. I'm giving him the best blow job I've ever given any man!
Her logic was simple. All barriers were now down between her and Sig. She'd wanted to have sex-of any kind-with Sig for a long, long time. Now, if Sig married Amy, he still would have sex with her, she felt sure. A man wanted variety. A man soon tired of the same piece of ass. And Sig Nelson, with his huge muscles, his youth, was man ... all man!
She forgot that they might be all killed by this Argentinean maniac. She forgot everything but Sig's cock in her mouth and what Sig's tongue did to her cunt ... and his tongue, in her estimation, did plenty.
Aunt Emma had had many tongues working her over, but Sig's was one of the best-if not the best. Sig's ability assured her that this was definitely not the first time Sig Nelson had Frenched off a female!
She suddenly envied Amy. Sig would give this to Amy if and when he or she wanted! Why the hell was Uncle John such a stiff-necked prick? Why hadn't he Frenched her and gone up her mouth and in her anus, the stiff-laced lawyer?
Across the years, she'd almost asked him to tongue her, but had caught her tongue in time, fearing he might get angry. One time, right after marriage, he'd had a hard-on and she'd kissed down his belly, stopping her kisses at the top of his pubic hair, her eyes on his rigid cock, her mouth lusting for that cock-but inside she'd been afraid to go that far, so she'd reluctantly raised her lips, and he had screwed her in the orthodox boring fashion!
Her tongue shot out, wrapped around Sig's balls, and she knew, by the trembling of his prick, that he'd soon blast off into her. She didn't know how many times she'd responded sexually to Sig's tongue! She'd flown and flown and his lips had sucked, his tongue had rammed way up, cleaning and loving what it tasted.
Her small hands cupped his buttocks savagely, her fingers buried deep in his crack, a thumb stuck into his asshole. His legs jutted upward and she caught a glimpse of Antonio, directly in front of her, squatting level, camera to his eye, as he took a direct shot of her mouth, skinning up and down Sig's prick.
She thought, momentarily, of John. She didn't want to appear too anxious! She'd slow down. Just then, though, Sig's hips rose sharply, jamming his cock into her, the knob deep in her throat-and she forgot her John and sucked and pulled, passion shaking her breasts, hardening her nipples.
Ah, he's coming....
Heavenly delight flooded her small body. This was the climax, the acme, the high point-when the gism blasted into your mouth, splashed off your palate, sweetened your taste!
At that moment, Carlos jabbed Sig with the cattle-prod!
Sig screamed through Aunt Emma's forest of pubic hair. His cock rammed hard into Aunt Emma's mouth as he arched, electricity lancing his flesh. He spilled his balls completely into Aunt Emma's mouth.
Aunt Emma also felt the jolt. It leaped into her breasts from Sig, twisted her small body, clamped her lips down harder on Sig's jetting penis. Sig's come tore into her throat.
Then, the shock passed. Aunt Emma now lay below Sig.
Face twisted with rage, Sig pulled his head from Aunt Emma's crotch, intending to rush the Indian, prod or no prod, but Aunt Emma fastened her lips hard on Sig's fading cock, holding him in position over her.
"Please, darling-"
Her voice was muffled. His cock still filled her mouth.
Sig glared at the Indian. "I'll kill you for that!"
Evidently Carlos didn't understand much English, for be merely shrugged. Antonio rattled something in fast Spanish to the Indian, whose face became granite hard as he glared at Sig.
Carlos made a derisive twisting motion with his hands, as though he were wringing Sig's neck. Sig started up. Aunt Emma's mouth pulled significantly on Sig's cock. Sig settled back, knowing he couldn't whip both Antonio and the Indian.
"I'll be good," Sig told Aunt Emma.
Aunt Emma then released Sig's prick. A gob of white hung to its tip. Her tongue circled his knob, cleaned his cock. Aunt Emma glared at Antonio de la Vega, putting new film in his camera.
"You get a good bunch of pictures, you son of a bitch?"
Sig had never heard Aunt Emma swear before. Aunt Emma had always been the prim correctly speaking person. She was showing Sig a side of her character he had not known existed. He liked this side.
"Wonderful," Antonio breathed. "These will be shown in many parts of the world to clubs and other groups. The great international lawyer-the mighty John Martin-will be shown to the world as the fraud and evil man he really is!"
"You've got no film of my husband," Aunt Emma said.
"No, but we soon shall have." Antonio snapped shut the camera's gate. "Carlos, do your duty, hombre!"
"Where do I go in her?"
Antonio studied the prone Aunt Emma with the cold consideration of a county fair judge judging a hog. "In the rectum," he finally said.
Carlos' eyes lighted. His breech cloth dropped. Sig gasped in envy and admiration upon seeing the Indian's prick!
Jesus God, a human stud horse!
Aunt Emma also gasped, but with fear. "Good lord," she said, "that thing is five inches thick! Nobody could ever take that-up the rectum-"
"You will," Antonio assured.
Aunt Emma stared at Sig, genuine fear in her eyes. "He'll-rupture me, Sig."
Antonio snapped orders. "Sig, you he on your back again. Emma, you get over him, his prick in your mouth. No, have your ass facing the foot of the bed, not the head. Carlos, are you ready?"
Carlos looked down at Emma's spreading ass, with Sig's head below it. He walked to the foot of the bed, long and big prick bobbing. He brushed his knob across Aunt Emma's tightly-clenched lips.
Aunt Emma couldn't help it. Her tongue snaked out, laved the huge dark knob, then darted back into her mouth, as though ashamed of itself for letting sexual emotion overcome logic.
"Ah ha," Antonio chortled. "She is the born cock sucker, no?"
Carlos grabbed Aunt Emma's head. He stood directly in front of her, prick poking at her mouth. Aunt Emma stubbornly kept her mouth sternly shut, eyes wicked and angry.
"I said in her ass, remember?" Antonio spoke quietly but dangerously.
"For God's sake, no!" Aunt Emma screamed.
Antonio laughed smirkingly. Huge Carlos lumbered to the foot of the bed. Sig, mouth in Aunt Emma's cunt, watched the huge man carefully, peering up between Aunt Emma's curvaceous thighs.
All he could see was the Indian's huge baton. Carlos' testicles were the size of golf balls. His prick leaped and pulsed as the Indian's dark eyes scrutinized Aunt Emma's asshole, small and ringed with bristly hair.
Carlos put his knob against Aunt Emma's crack, directly over her anus. He shoved gently. The buttocks widened as the bulb lay flatly on her asshole. Sig noticed that the giant cock bent not an iota when pressure was put against it. It was as stiff as a piece of pipe!
Carlos shook his head. He drew back his cock. His prick dragged across Sig's face. Sig unconsciously took a lick at it. Carlos looked down at him and grinned. He made sucking motions with his thick lips. He was implying that Sig was a cock sucker, also.
"What's the matter?" Antonio demanded.
"Grasa, y mucha," Carlos said.
Antonio handed the giant a jar of petroleum jelly from the dresser. Carlos first smeared the goo on his cock, leaving a good hunk on the end of his knob. He then scooped a fingerful and with his free hand parted Aunt Emma's buttocks before inserting his finger and greasing her thoroughly in the anus.
His finger, moving over ticklish tissue, made Aunt Emma giggle. Sig felt Aunt Emma's come suddenly hit his mouth. He licked her cunt and hair clean, loving what he swallowed, his eyes still on Carlos' huge prick.
Sig had his doubts: could any person, even a big man, take that gigantic dong up the rear? The Indian would tear Aunt Emma apart. She'd need an operation after this huge thing was rammed into her butt. Tissue would naturally be torn, Sig reasoned.
Carlos put his prick again deep in Aunt Emma's crease, knob again touching her brown asshole. Antonio carefully took pictures, camera moving from Aunt Emma's ass to her face. Sig heard the camera's low whirring but his eyes were on the enormous knob suspended in Aunt Emma's crack, just inches above his face.
Carlos' big hands parted Aunt Emma's buttocks very wide, laying her asshole on an almost level plane, the hole opening slightly under the pressure of his pulling. The tip of the big black knob entered slightly.
"It can't be done," Sig told Antonio.
"It will be done," Antonio gritted.
Carlos put his hands hard on Aunt Emma's hips, holding her solid. Her buttocks trembled, fearing what lay ahead. Carlos' hips tightened, muscles standing out like cords. He gritted his blocky white teeth.
And then, he rammed ahead with all his might.
Aunt Emma screamed. She tried to wriggle free but Carlos held her soldily. Sig saw all of the knob except the ring was in Aunt Emma now. Her asshole had distended greatly. She was evidently in great pain.
Then, the Indian lunged again. And, again, Aunt Emma screamed.
This time, the enormous tool slipped into the rectum, the knob now hidden. Sig breathed a sigh of relief. The Indian was in Aunt Emma's ass to his balls, now. He began pumping away.
"Bravo!" Antonio cried.
"Muy estrecho," Carlos breathed.
Sig knew that estrecho meant tight or narrow. He'd seen signs stating puente estrecho before narrow bridges.
"Look at her face," Antonio chortled. "She's smiling, the bitch! She likes that, Indian!"
Antonio swung his camera on Aunt Emma's face.
Sig also knew Aunt Emma enjoyed the big prick, once it had broken the barrier, for her come surged down again, and he drank heavily and heartily, his eyes on Carlos' cock, plunging into Aunt Emma and then rearing out to its bulb before plunging into her rectum again.
Aunt Emma's butt began going back and forth. Sig just held his tongue stationary. Aunt Emma's cunt swept of its own accord across his rolled-up tongue. Aunt Emma made a happy, keening sound.
Sig noticed that the Indians' dark-skinned cock now showed streaks of brown. Carlos' eyes were closed as his hips shot in and out. His balls dragged across Sig's face. Sig heard the Indian's hard flesh collide with Aunt Emma's soft flesh. The Indian and Aunt Emma fucked each other very fast and rapidly, and Aunt Emma's come increased in flow.
Suddenly Carlos hollered, "I come! I come!"
He grabbed Aunt Emma's buttocks savagely, fingers digging. Aunt Emma screamed, "Harder, harder-deeper, deeper!" Without warning, Carlos froze, cock to the balls in the greasy hole as he poured his manhood into the rectum of Uncle John's wife, with Uncle John's wife writhing her ass, trying to tear the big cock loose, as passion flooded her.
Then, slowly, Carlos removed himself, his prick very brown and greasy. Once free, Aunt Emma asked him to come to her head. Frowning, the Indian did. Aunt Emma got on her hands and knees. Sig saw her head between her hanging huge breasts.
Carlos' cock dangled inches away.
"Closer," Aunt Emma implored.
Carlos moved his hips ahead. His cock was now in reach of Aunt Emma's tongue. Her red tongue sneaked out, encircled the knob, then darted back laden with brown. Sig saw her throat swallow eagerly.
The goddamned idiot, Sig thought. She's gone completely sexually berserk. What the shit will Uncle John think when he sees this?
Soon Aunt Emma had all of Carlos' cock in her mouth, tonguing it and loving it. Again, Sig caught her white excrement, trickling from her oozing cunt.
Here we go again, Sig Nelson told Sig Nelson.
CHAPTER FIVE
Antonio de la Vega left briefly. He returned, naked Amy ahead of him, his cattle prod close to her bobbing buttocks.
Sig saw some brown on Amy's nose. That's shit, he thought. How'd it get there? His question was soon answered, for the old hag crippled along behind Antonio. "I shit in her mouth," the crone cackled, looking about with sharp, beady eyes.
Sig almost puked.
He sat naked on a chair. Aunt Emma was on her back with Carlos astraddle her, the gigantic Indian ramming his prick down Aunt Emma's throat-and she making happy, peaceful chortling sounds.
Amy looked at Sig. "The dirty old bitch," she spat.
Sig said nothing. He thought, This whole family is going to hell. Amy'd never thought of talking that dirty before....
He then looked at Aunt Emma, plainly enjoying Carlos' cock in her mouth. And he thought, Maybe this is the way this family's always felt and wanted to act ... And now it's just acting natural?....
Antonio whirled, jabbed the hag with the cattle prod. She stood on tiptoe, then sagged against the wall, spewing curses. Antonio, face twisted, then jabbed the prod against Carlos' bare ass.
Sparks shot out. Aunt Emma twisted with electricity. Sig figured she got more of a jolt than Carlos because Carlos' cock was the electrical connection between the Indian and Aunt Emma's damp mouth.
Carlos leaped from Aunt Emma, prick instantly drooping. He rattled something in Spanish and Sig figured the Indian cursed the chief of police, who gave the huge man another jolt which sent Carlos' jaw clicking shut and silenced him immediately. Antonio then turned to Amy.
"Get on the bed, cunt! On your back, sabe?"
Amy hesitated, glancing at Sig. Antonio swished her with the prod. Amy leaped onto the bed, swearing angrily. She lay on her back, legs close together. Sig looked at his sweetheart's forest of pubic hair.
Amy was hairy, he noticed-her pubic hair began with her navel. Her asshole, he reasoned, would be matted with hair.
"Spread your legs and lift them," Antonio snapped.
Amy hesitated, blushing. Antonio significantly lifted the prod. Immediately Amy's legs, spread wide, shot up. She lay in the normal sexual position. Sig saw her cunt and anus clearly.
He hadn't had a good chance to see Amy's opening while he and she had been chained to the wall, for Amy had kept her legs demurely pressed together. Now, for the first time, Sig Nelson saw the cunt of his betrothed ... and his heart sank.
Amy's pussy was twice as long as Aunt Emma's! She had a huge gash for a cunt! Sig's cock could play around in this opening but never, never fill it, and Sig's heart pounded dully in disappointment.
Antonio spoke to the hag. "You say she's still got her maidenhead?"
"She has."
"Test her again."
Giggling, the crone came forward, naked flat teats hanging, to insert her dirty forefinger into Amy's cunt. Amy felt the finger move around, find the limits of her hymen, then press gently before withdrawing.
"She's got one tight as a drum skin," the hag said. "Let me break it with my tongue! I can break it with my tongue-I got a tongue like a piece of whalebone-Please-"
"Only one person breaks her maidenhead," Antonio said, "and that's me, sabe?"
Sig started upward, then sat down as the prod swung his way. Antonio motioned Carlos to the bed.
"The reason I drove you off the old gringa is because I wanted you to have a hard-on for this young one," Antonio told the huge Indian.
Carlos looked down at Amy's cunt. His eyes glowed. "But if you want her maidenhead-"
"You go up her rear," Antonio said. "There's no hymen in her rectum!"
Carlos' prick flipped upward in anticipation, and Amy's eyes went wide as she viewed the huge male appendage. Aunt Emma, who'd left the bed and sat beside Sig, looked at Carlos' cock. Sig saw her discreetly wet her lips.
"No human can take that-" Amy said hurriedly.
"Your aunt did," Antonio said.
Amy swiveled wide and frightened eyes on Aunt Emma. "Did he-?"
"He did," Aunt Emma said, "and I'll need an operation, I feel sure."
"Did it hurt?"
"It didn't make me dance with joy," Aunt Emma said.
"Do you want her on her hands and knees?" Antonio spoke to Carlos.
"If you take pictures, you'll get better ones if she's on her hands and knees and I'm behind her," Carlos said in broken English.
Sig said, "I'll kill you both for this!"
Antonio merely grinned. "Don't act the wounded lover, Nelson. It doesn't fit you. You should have seen how happy your face looked when you lapped the aunt's cunt, amigo!"
"My God," Amy said, looking at Sig. "Did you-do that-?"
"He was forced to," Aunt Emma said, coming in and saving Sig, who gave her a short look of gratification.
Sig suddenly hoped they'd all get out of this alive. He wanted more-and still more-sex goes with Aunt Emma. If he and Aunt Emma lived through this, many, many times they'd bed down together, he felt sure.
Aunt Emma's naked thigh lightly touched his. Sig knew this was no accident. Aunt Emma also looked forward to more happy sex sessions with him.
We got to get out of this alive, Sig told himself. Antonio spoke to Amy. "Get on your hands and knees."
Amy could only obey. Sig saw her asshole for the first time. True to his prediction, it was covered with dense hair.
Amy put her head on her folded arms. She sobbed bitterly. Sig bit his lips, feeling frustration. He realized he could do nothing. The hag now held a short snub-nosed automatic Antonio had given her. Beady eyes watched Aunt Emma and Sig carefully. Sig got the impression the hag would have loved to kill them both. And if he were dead he'd be no use to Amy....
Carlos got on his knees behind Amy, the bed creaking under his enormous weight. He laid his cock in her open crack and moved it down slowly, the knob stopping over her asshole.
Carefully, the Indian studied Amy's asshole. He then put his forefinger in it and pried apart, Amy screaming in pain. He withdrew his finger and looked at Antonio.
"She's bigger than the other but I'll still need the grease."
Carlos handed him the vaseline jar. Once again, the Indian smeared his prick, leaving a gob on the bulb. He then spread Amy's asshole and carefully greased just inside.
Sig watched, mouth dry. Aunt Emma looked down at her pubic hair. Sig also looked down. Aunt Emma was having a sexual discharge. Sig wondered how a woman her middle-age could possibly be so hot sexually.
Sig looked back at Carlos and Amy.
Carlos had his knob located correctly. He parted Amy's asshole with his fingers, encasing the tip of his bulb. Antonio's camera made sharp whirring sounds. Sig noticed it was pointed at Carlos' cock and Amy's ass and would not show Carlos' face.
"Okay," Carlos said. "Here we go!"
His hips launched forward. Sig saw Carlos' cock momentarily bend, and then the bulb shot into Amy's rectum to Carlos' huge balls. Amy screamed and twisted her hips, trying to get free. Carlos' big hands held her firmly in front of him as h's prick went in and out, his balls slapping against her buttocks.
Amy glanced sidewise. Her eyes met Sig's. Her eyes pleaded that Sig help her. Sig could only look down in utter dejection. Finally he looked up again. Amy's eyes were now closed. To his surprise, her lovely face held a look of happiness. Sig looked at Carlos.
Carlos had reached down. His forefinger was hooked in Amy's cunt. It played there, touching her clitoris, dancing and prodding-but not break-the virginal membrane.
Whiteness ran down the Indian's big hand. Now Sig understood why his betrothed smiled. Carlos' ringer had brought her to ejaculation.
"Watch your God-damned finger!" Antonio told Carlos. "You break her maidenhead and I'll break your God-damned neck!"
"I careful, primo!"
Amy was very, very tight. Each time Carlos' prick reared back Amy's anus clung to it, also moving back. Carlos knew the exact limits of his cock. He stopped each backward lunge with the bulb of his prick just showing in Amy's asshole. Then, the cock went in deep and hard, balls making sounds against Amy's rounded buttocks. Sig felt his erection grow.
He glanced at Aunt Emma.
Aunt Emma watched Carlos' cock enter and pull back with wide enchanted eyes. She wet her dry lips. Without thinking, Sig let his hand drop to her cunt. She immediately scootched down, his finger entering her tiny box.
How small, how tight, her cunt! Was it possible ... on a married woman? Sig felt a hand land on his cock. The small hand began skinning the foreskin back and forth. His eyes met Aunt Emma's. Aunt Emma spread her legs suggestively.
"Why you two no fuck?" the hag asked, simpering.
Sig rolled onto Aunt Emma. Her breasts were hard as stones, jabbing nipples against his hairy chest. Her legs went immediately upward, spreading out. Her hand went down and rammed his cock into her cunt.
She was so tight, Sig bent slightly. Then, his knob entered, delicious tight warmth flooding him. He cupped her buttocks severely, fingers in her crack. Eagerly, her ass lifted as she panted for his seed.
Sig fucked with complete abandon. He forgot that Amy watched, Carlos' prick deep in her ass. Amy was his sweetheart, his fiance. He and Amy would be married. And here he was, screwing Amy's aunt ... and both he and auntie loving it!
Each time he rose, Aunt Emma went down, her cunt's nether lips dragging on Sig's cock. She's trying to tear it out by the roots, Sig thought in delirious bliss. God, what a fuck! The best I've ever had!
"They fuck, they fuck!" the crone screamed.
Hurriedly, Antonio jerked his camera from Carlos and Amy, hurriedly squatting beside Sig and Aunt Emma, his camera on cock entering cunt. He then moved back and took long range pictures that clearly showed the bliss on Aunt Emma's face and the sexual glee twisting Sig's features.
"The lawyer will sure enjoy these pictures," Antonio chuckled.
CHAPTER SIX
Uncle John missed Sig at five that afternoon. He was in bed with the big masseuse in the bathhouse when it dawned on him he'd not seen Sig for some time. The masseuse told him Sig had gone home with one of the chambermaids.
"You're joking," Uncle John said.
"No, they went to her house in the barrio."
Uncle John didn't believe the woman. At that time, passion gripped him; his hands fastened hard on her rising, bucking rear as he spilled his manhood into her damp vagina.
Sig wouldn't be false to Amy. He was, in Uncle John's estimation, too stupid to be false. He then learned from the masseuse that in the short time he'd been here, Sig had sexed three of the masseuse's companions. Uncle John hid his surprise and grinned. This college boy might be all right, at that!
Slowly, Uncle John pulled his limp peter from the opening and closing cunt. He breathed deeply, then thought of Aunt Emma.
He missed Aunt Emma not an iota. In fact, it was good to be rid of her for a while, for at times Aunt Emma had a very pointed tongue-and she'd been more sharp-tongued since he and his wife had stopped having sex together.
Still, Aunt Emma was, after all, his wife. He didn't love her-that had soon blown over-but they were used to each other. What had been wild love had changed to a steady affection.
The masseuse licked his cock dry, took his prick in her mouth-hoping she could get him to erect again and thereby make two thousand more pesos but it was no soap, for Uncle John was thinking of the disappearances of his wife and niece.
He checked in on Sig. Sig wasn't in his room. Sig hadn't come in by twelve that night, so Uncle John reported Sig's disappearance to Antonio de la Vega, although he had little faith in Santa Lucia's chief-of-police.
"Where is this slum district-this barrio-named San Juan de Dios?" Uncle John asked.
Antonio de la Vega told the American. "That is a very tough district. My men patrol it not in twos, but in threes. Why do you ask, senor?"
Uncle John told about Sig going there with the chambermaid. Antonio listened carefully. "This story-it is true?"
"So they told me at the hotel."
Antonio got to his feet. He beat one fist against a palm. "The young man is an idiot, a complete fool. Does he not realize he is an Americano and los Americanos are hated all over the world because they have so much and they sometimes feed the people who hate them?"
"He isn't in his hotel room," Uncle John informed.
Antonio's whirled, mouth open. He stared at Uncle John. "You mean-My god, I pray he isn't kidnaped, too!" The chief-of-police spread his hands in terror. "I send a squad car there-right away-"
Antonio called in his secretary. The secretary then told the dispatcher to send a squad car to the barrio. Within ten minutes the car radioed back saying that it had found the chambermaid who said that Sig had left an hour or so before.
"Call the hotel, quick," Antonio snapped.
The hotel was called. Sig was not in his room nor did he answer when paged. Antonio put his head in his hands and moaned. "Good mother of Jesus have they gotten him, too?"
"Get me the embassy in Buenos Aires again," Uncle John ordered.
The secretary made the call. He handed Uncle John the phone when the connection was made. Uncle John spoke to the embassy in hard tones. He was assured that the embassy was doing all it could. He hung up, scowling. He didn't know that his call hadn't got out of Santa Lucia.
Antonio had no leads on Aunt Emma and Amy. His police had road-blocks on all roads entering Santa Lucia. His police also checked at the airport although only one plane arrived and departed each day.
Santa Lucia had no railroad but the bus terminal and all departing buses were carefully checked.
"We have found absolutely nothing, Senor Martin!"
Uncle John returned to the hotel. Sig's room was still empty. A call to the desk had Sig paged. Sig didn't answer.
Had Sig bedded down with one of the hotel's female workers? Uncle John paid a bellhop five bucks to check. The bellboy soon reported Sig occupied no hotel bed.
Uncle John was completely puzzled. Of the four, he was the only one left. He felt fear eat his guts. He decided to sleep in Sig's room. Thus, if and when Sig returned, he'd know immediately.
This whole thing was nuts. Nobody had even asked him for ransom money! He'd received but the one stupid note. And the films....
What was behind all this?
His feeling of puzzlement kept growing. He'd solved many an important and puzzling law case ... but he couldn't make a dent in this deal!
Finally, he slipped into broken sleep.
He dreamed a woman was in Sig's bed with him. He slapped his hips ahead, for he had a big erection. And, to his surprise, a soft hand grabbed his rigid cock, jerking him immediately awake.
He fumbled, found the bedside light.
He recoiled in surprise, eyes wide. For a naked girl was in the bed, staring at him with surprised eyes, also.
"You-you-You are not Sig!"
"No, I'm not," Uncle John stupidly stated.
The young girl blushed to her huge breasts. She started to leave the bed and Uncle John threw an arm hurriedly around her waist and held her sitting up. "Won't I do just as well?" he asked, thankful that most of the spa's help spoke some English.
For the first time the girl realized she held Uncle John by the cock. She hurriedly released the erection. "The young man told me he'd pay me three thousand pesos...."
Again, quick arithmetic. "I'll pay the same," Uncle John assured.
"Where is the money?"
Uncle John snagged his trousers. He counted out the bills. The girl put them in her shoe. She lay on her back, legs spread. "Climb on," she said.
Uncle John yawned. He wasn't fully awake. But, awake or asleep, this dark-haired little lovely wasn't escaping.
He'd seen her around the hotel. Each time he'd riveted his eyes on her luscious ass, bobbing enticingly under her blue maid uniform. Now that ass was naked and in his bed. Sig really got around, Uncle John admitted. And, at the same time, he thought: Where the hell is Sig?
This thought didn't five long. The clean womanly smell of her-of cunt, ass, clear skin, beautiful hair-touched his nostrils with heavenly aroma. He bent his head and let his lips slowly encompass a budding nipple. His lips massaged gently. The girl's hips twisted as sexual passion grew.
Uncle John's rigid cock pulsated against her rounded hip. His hands went under her buttocks, feeling her smooth skin. These Spanish women, he thought. Jesus Christ, they've got smooth skin! And how they can fuck!
These girls were pointed toward only one thing in life-to satisfy their man sexually. This was their life ambition and goal, Uncle John had heard.
Her nipple expanded like a budding rose under his tongue. Her smooth belly heaved and fell. His fingers entered the crack of her buttocks and found her asshole. His forefinger played gently around her anus. Automatically, her legs rose and spread, and she lay in receptive female position, hand again on Uncle John's stiff prick.
Uncle John's lips grudgingly abandoned the nipple. He got on his knees behind her spread buttocks, cock in hand. Sbe watched him through the narrow valley of her huge, black-buttoned breasts as he moved his prick ahead, the knob pulsing with life.
Her cunt was small. It oozed whiteness. He ran his knob between her buttocks, gently touched her asshole, and she shook her head slightly. She wanted his prick in her cunt. She wanted it naturally.
Uncle John preferred it in her anus. But, he decided to please her. Therefore he lifted his cock. He placed it against her cunt. To his surprise, her cunt opened slightly, as though reaching out for his cock.
Experience had taught him that these Spanish blooded women didn't just he idle, legs reared, and take a man's prick. Their asses moved and jumped and took a man to the balls. The American women he'd fucked-and he'd hosed plenty!-had merely lain passive while he'd pumped away.
But these women really helped a man, skinning his pecker as he rose, loving his cock as he plunged down to the testicles! And this little girl was no exception! She knew her womanly trade!
Her cunt twisted, pulled, opened to receive and then, with Uncle John buried to the balls, her lips closed, wrenching his peter thoroughly before releasing it for the upward stroke.
Then, when his knob was the only part of him in her, her nether lips danced around it, as though daring it to enter her once again. And, as the cock plunged down, she dragged on it, sending shivers of delight through Uncle John's sweating thighs.
For years Uncle John had not been able to achieve a sexual climax by fucking a woman naturally. Usually he had to go in the mouth or anus to bring about his ultimate goal. But, within a few minutes, this competent little girl had his testicles drawn back, ready for final expression.
He felt his belly congeal, his blood race downward. Warmth flooded his guts, firing his hips to more feverish activities as his hands clutched the rounded, well-shaped buttocks, pulling her cunt closer, closer ... always closer.
His breatliing came in hard gasps. She, too, gasped as she rose, fell, under him, timing him, pulling his serum closer to expression. Her face was contorted, lips locked.
Her breasts were bigger, now. They rose like olive-colored mounds with pink tips. They were very hard. Uncle John's hairy chest grated on them. The breasts firmly held his weight, sagging very little.
"I'm-coming-"
Was that his voice? It sounded distant, torn by time and passion? And then he heard her cry, "Bury it in me to the balls, big daddy! Oh, deeper-mas profundo-A su testiculos, papa mio!"
Then, Uncle John's balls responded. His serum shot into her hungry vagina, spinning against its hot walls. She buried her heels in the bed, hips twisting as she sucked all out of his cock, leaving him limp and drained ... for the present.
Uncle John lay on her for some time, getting his wind back. I'm not as young as I was once, he thought. J can't hit them as herd and as often ... He happened to think of a fellow lawyer.
Because of a weak heart, this lawyer didn't dare sex naturally or in the rectum. He couldn't stand physical labor. Therefore he stood up while a girl sucked him off. He kept his hips still, too.
Uncle John hoped his heart would hold up.
His breath recovered, Uncle John rolled off the girl who kissed him soundly on the lips. "Muy bueno," she said. "You gringos-you know how the fuck goes, verdad?"
Uncle John said, truthfully, "Some of us have had lots of practice."
"The young one? He is gone?"
"Do you know where he is?"
The girl lay facing him, her breath sweet on his cheek. "He went to the casa of that perra Maria today. And he did not return?"
"He hasn't come back."
"Maria is no good. She is only a whore!" The girl spat the words. Uncle John hid his smile. This girl had his money in her shoe. Wasn't she also a prostitute? But that was a minor point. His job was to find Aunt Emma, Amy and now Sig.
Christ, the world couldn't open, swallow them? Or could it? Unless he found the trio soon he'd appeal to the governor of this state and if he got nothing there he'd appeal to the president.
Then, with sinking heart, the barrister knew he had no influence here in South America. His famous law cases-those against international criminals had all taken place on the Continent
"You want fuck again?" the girl asked.
"Couldn't we rest a while?"
"I want more fuck, gringo. I come here to fuck. Unless I fuck I go."
Uncle John hurriedly came back to reality. The last thing he wanted was this young healthy fucking-animal to leave. Evidently these women were offended if a man didn't screw them every chance he or they got?
Her hand found his cock. "It is like the pluma" she said. "The feather...."
"Boca" Uncle John said. Boca meant mouth.
"Ha, the boca!"
Fleeting lips kissed his limp prick. Soon his knob was in her mouth and Uncle John lay breathing heavily, eyes closed.
She got between his legs. She lifted his legs, her right hand finding his asshole, playing gently around its sensitive surface.
Uncle John gasped, cock stiffening.
She was so warm, so good, so feminine. She smelled womanly, her mouth was warm around his peter.
Soon his cock was stiff, running deep into her throat.
She had very strong lips. They clung to his prick, releasing at the right moment. Her tongue skipped across his balls, making him shiver with anticipation. Sometimes, on the down-stroke, her tongue danced out, loved each testicle singularly, rolling each in its brown, wrinkled sack.
Finally, her lips slowly said good-bye to his cock. She put Uncle John's legs down, forcing them close together.
Uncle John watched now, wondering what was next.
She reached for a jar of vaseline. She greased her asshole and his cock thoroughly. Then, she settled her parted buttocks directly over his rigid prick. She squirmed this way, then that. Finally, his cock was centered directly over her slightly parted asshole.
"You-ready?" she panted.
"Ready!"
Suddenly, her buttocks wriggled, and he felt his bulb enter her tight anus. She took a deep breath, breasts wild, nipples dark and big. Then she plunged her ass down, absorbing his prick.
Her buttocks flashed down, landing on his balls. Then she began sliding up and down his cock, flexing her lovely knees.
Uncle John again closed his eyes.
She moaned slightly in bliss. Her eyes, too, were closed. Her head was thrown back. Long black hair hung down her naked back.
Evidently his prick, rising in her rectum, could be felt against her vagina, for only a thin membrane separated vagina from rectum, Uncle John knew. He felt her come issue from her oozing cunt. It dripped down on his belly, falling in warm drops.
Passion gripped her occasionally, making her anus very tight on Uncle John's prick, which grew harder and harder as his orgasm time approached. Finally, his balls spoke, spewing her rectum with his serum.
The world spun, his thighs arched upward. She twisted her hips, sucking from his testicles all they owned. Her asshole wrenched his cock, bent it, sucked it dry. Uncle John grunted with hog-like pleasure.
"Magnifico," she breathed.
She rose slightly, his cock sliding down-finally, it fell free. She bent and kissed it and then lay beside him. Within seconds, a thoroughly fuckedout Uncle John was snoring.
He awakened at eight. The whore was gone. Sig hadn't returned. Panic tore at the barrister. He hurried to his own room. Quickly, he unlocked the door. His toe hit something. He looked down, heart leaping.
Two canisters of film lay on the floor.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Chief-of-Police Antonio de la Vega prided himself on practicing new police search techniques. He was a great follower of Dragnet, then being shown on South American television.
He had had built a special room for showing police training films and for staging a lineup. Prisoners paraded across a lighted stage while law officers and others sat in the dark and watched.
He and Uncle John sat alone and watched the two new rolls of film. Uncle John squirmed, impatient to see what the celluloid held. He was very nervous. He was tired and baffled, a stranger in a strange land.
Antonio de la Vega had carefully questioned the hotel employees about the films, but none had seen them left at Uncle John's door. Antonio still had a lieutenant questioning at the hotel.
Antonio fixed the film in the projector, then hurried to sit beside Uncle John, who stared moodily at the small screen. Soon pictures began to flash. He gasped when he saw Sig.
The sonsabitches had kidnaped Sig, too!
And Jesus Christ-Mother of God-Sig was going up Aunt Emma's rear end, cornholing her! And Aunt Emma was on her knees, one hand back tickling Sig's balls as Sig ran his cock in her anus to the testicles!
And look at the happy look on that old girl's face, Uncle John thought sourly, hunching down deep in his seat, hardly believing his eyes.
His mouth had a sour, bitter taste. He remembered fucking his wife naturally, soon after marriage. His forefinger had begun to enter her anus. Aunt Emma had told him, in no uncertain tones, to leave her asshole alone. And now Sig was in her asshole to his balls!
"These are very filthy," Antonio said. "I look for background clues. I find none."
Sig finally ejaculated in Aunt Emma's rectum. Aunt Emma then licked Sig's cock clean and tongued his anus. Uncle John was so mad his knuckles were white.
Aunt Emma then took Sig's cock in her mouth and sucked him off.
Sig got his tongue in Aunt Emma's cunt. Aunt Emma sucked and Sig tongued. Antonio de la Vega glanced at Uncle John, whose jaw was set and his hands were hard fists.
"What do they call that sexual position in English," Antonio innocently asked.
Uncle John gritted, "Frenching!"
"Oh, from the French, then?"
"Where the shit do you expect from if not from the filthy frogs!"
Antonio hid his smile.
Uncle John thought of all the years he'd wanted his wife to suck him off and how he'd wanted to go up her ass or mouth. And he hadn't had the guts to ask her, the old bitch!
Next time he caught his wife, he'd throw her down and ram it in her mouth or asshole, he promised.
God, how Aunt Emma enjoyed sex ... with any man but her husband, Uncle John thought.
He remembered the last time he'd fucked his wife.. For Christ's sake, how many years back had it been?
He'd fucked her natural, of course. And she'd lain, bored, with her legs parted and straight up while he'd poured his prick into her without her ass making even the slightest motion. And look at her now, he thought angrily.
For the camera had zoomed in on Aunt Emma's cunt. Uncle John stared in anger and amazement. His wife's cunt lips opened and closed around Sig's rising and plunging cock!
Hell, no pro could do better, Uncle John realized.
Now a huge prick moved into the picture, poking at Aunt Emma's mouth. Uncle John gasped! He'd never imagined any human cock could be that large! And he'd seen more than his share of human cocks in his days!
Uncle John stared in admiration and jealousy.
Uncle John belonged to an exclusive athletic club. Naturally he'd seen this club's many members naked in the dressing room. But none had a prick even half as big as this new prick!
Aunt Emma stubbornly kept her mouth closed. The prick pushed against her lips. Her mouth can't take anything that big, Uncle John thought. That thing is as big around on the bulb as the bottom of a vinegar crock!
He couldn't see who owned the cock. It's owner was beyond camera range. All he saw was the round huge prick and he judged it to be at least a foot long.
The cock pulled out of the picture. Aunt Emma opened her mouth. Uncle John saw the camera pan to Aunt Emma's buttocks. Sig lay beneath her buttocks, tongue darting in and out of her oozing cunt.
Then, the cock came into view again.
This time, it pushed against Aunt Emma's ass, seeking to enter her rectum. Anger flooded Uncle John.
She can't take that in the ass! No female's asshole can expand that much! He'll rupture her! She'll bleed to death. It's inhuman!
Sig's tongue stopped. Sig looked up at the enormous prick. Big hands gripped Aunt Emma solidly around her naked waist. Uncle John saw no telltale rings on the great hands.
The cock couldn't enter. It drew back. When it returned, it was laden with grease. A hand went back, came with grease on its forefinger; this was smeared around Aunt Emma's anus and inside her asshole. Then, the hand held her again, firmly; again, the prick moved ahead.
The cock centered itself correctly. Sig stared up at it. Then, the huge prick lunged ahead. Aunt Emma opened her mouth. She screamed. But already the cock was in her asshole to the testicles!
Pain gone, Aunt Emma smiled happily. She's had cocks in her ass before, Uncle thought sourly. She acts like a professional....
Giant hips pumped the enormous prick into Aunt Emma. Huge balls dragged across Sig's face. Uncle John saw Sig drink deeply of Aunt Emma's cunt.
Antonio de la Vega spoke hesitantly. "I do not wish to intrude, senor Martin. My job is to find your wife, niece, and young man, but still I cannot help but feel-"
"Feel what?"
"I shall be blunt. Look at the happiness on your wife's face! And the young man-below her-performing an obscene act-"
"Yes?"
"I have the impression your wife and this young man have copulated before, much as I dislike saying it."
Uncle John grinned sickly. "Always the cuckolded husband is the last to know!"
"Who could the other man be?" Antonio wondered. "And what an enormous tool he has, indeed. He is very popular, verdad?"
Uncle John had no reply. The prick went in and out of Aunt Emma's asshole faster, hips slapping against her buttocks. Plainly the owner of the big cock was on the verge of ejaculation. Suddenly the big fingers gripped Aunt Emma's flesh harder, leaving grooves, as the giant testicles shot their gizzum into her asshole.
Aunt Emma's hips twisted and squirmed as she drained the last drop from the prick. Under her, Sig tongued like mad. Then, slowly, the long cock left, pulling back and disappearing.
It next appeared again at Aunt Emma's lips. This time she licked it clean and with some difficulty got it into her mouth and began sucking.
Just then, the film ran out.
"I do not want to cause you mental pain," Antonio de la Vega said. "Perhaps you should not see the other reel?"
"I'm going to see it. I might find some clue in the background. I found none in that film."
"Neither did I. Just a wall, the bed, some common furniture."
Amy was in the next film. When she came into camera range, something was spread across her nose and lips. For some reason, Uncle John thought this looked like shit. Anyway, his wife licked Amy's face clean.
Aunt Emma left the bed. Amy and Sig were on it, now. Sig looked at Amy's cunt. Suddenly an old hag moved into camera range. She wore filthy, flapping clothes. She put her forefinger in Amy's cunt, felt, then removed it.
"That old woman is new," Antonio said, "and why would she insert her finger like that?"
"My niece is a virgin. My wife told me. The old woman probably wanted to see if my niece's maidenhead is intact."
"She is a virgin ... at her age? In this country a girl's maidenhead is broken when she is very young. At fourteen, she has had at least two babies."
"And look at the shape your God-damned country's in!" Uncle John snapped. "People starving to death, filthy and diseased in front of your temples inlaid with gold!"
"Ah, we should not discuss politics, verdad?"
Sig left the bed. Amy was alone on hands and knees. Again, the huge hands came in, cupped a thin, naked waist. Again, the enormous prick moved into camera range, its owner still not portrayed.
The sonofabitch is going to fuck Amy up the ass, Uncle John thought. My wife sucked him to the point where his cock is hard again....
Uncle John's vision momentarily blurred. Shock after shock had hit him. He couldn't comprehend completely all he'd seen. Too much had piled up on him too quickly.
Again, the huge prick was greased. Again, grease was applied to Amy's asshole. Again, the prick centered, the enormous thighs lunged-and Amy took the giant cock to the balls, also!
Hell, she took it easier than my wife did!
Fascinated, Uncle John watched, bafflement momentarily forgotten. Amy's buttocks wiggled happily. A close-up showed supreme bliss on her smiling face. Her cunt dripped whiteness.
A crooked forefinger went down. It entered Amy's cunt but didn't go in far enough to break the hymen. Now sexual convulsion after convulsion shook Uncle John's shapely niece.
Right then and there, Uncle John made a decision. Everybody in his family was fucking each other except he himself. When and if he found Amy, he'd put it to her either in her mouth, asshole or cunt. And the same went for his God-damned leg-crossed old bitch of a wife!
And if Sig were around, in Sig's mouth it would go, or up Sig's rectum. Uncle John was angry.
He watched the big cock go in and out. When the cock pulled out, Amy's hips went ahead. When the prick entered, her hips shot back, her buttocks opening. Momentum of hip and prick increased.
He's close to coming, the lucky sonofabitch! Whoever he is....
Then, the fingers dug deeper, the hand leaving Amy's cunt to again hold her solidly before the big prick. Heavy hips smashed against Amy's buttocks. For one moment, the buttocks and hips were one. The testicles, at this moment, poured their sperm into Amy's rectum.
Uncle John realized he had a hard-on.
Hurriedly, the camera left the happy Amy. It centered on Sig and Aunt Emma, fucking on the floor, Sig on top, his prick deep in Aunt Emma's cunt.
Uncle John stared.
Aunt Emma screamed. She bit Sig's naked shoulder. Her hips shot up and down like pistons as she drained Sig's rigid cock.
Look at her fuck, Uncle John thought.
Dismay filled him. With him in the saddle his wife lay dead and sterile. But with Sig-
Uncle John could stand no more.
He shielded his eyes with his trembling hands.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Uncle John tried to keep calm. He attempted to think from a solid viewpoint, his legally-trained brain figuring mechanically. He sat down and listed all events on paper. Usually this gave him a clear picture of his problem.
But not this time.
For one thing, why had Aunt Emma, Amy and Sig been abducted? No ransom demands had been made on him! And didn't kidnappers kidnap to get ransoms?
Lack of ransom demands made the whole set up so illogical. Why would anybody kidnap just to create obscene sexual pictures? Of course, what pictures he'd seen would be worth a fortune when shown before social clubs and other such low ilk, but why kidnap to find characters for these pictures?
One didn't have to run afoul of the law to find actors for obscene sex pictures. Hundreds of men and women were ready to perform such sexual acts for a few dollars. Some, in fact, would perform them for nothing, working only for the joy of working, if such antics could be classified as work.
This thing was crazy-absolutely crazy-from beginning to end. It looked as though somebody just wanted to make his life miserable, and that wasn't logical, either. This was the first time he'd ever been in Argentina. And, if he had his way, it would also definitely be his last!
One moment he doubted Chief-of-Police Antonio de la Vega and the next he had complete faith in the debonair lawman with his toothbrush mustache and courteous manners. His faith in the chief was given a boost wben two days later Antonio introduced him to a tall, serious-looking, well-dressed Americano.
"Mister Matt Watson," the chief said. "I believe it best I leave you and Senor Watson alone to talk, Senor Martin."
Watson went straight to the point. The embassy had sent him out from Buenos Aires. He showed his credentials. He was to work on the q.t. He impressed the fact that this abduction should be kept secret. Political atmosphere between Uncle Sam and Argentina at this time was not too cordial.
"Newspapers hear about this and right away it's all over the world, Mr. Martin. A man of your worldwide reputation-ah, the press would lap it up. And your kidnaper-or kidnapers-might become afraid and kill, you know. Those are harsh words, Mr. Martin. But this is a harsh case. You understand, I feel sure?"
"I understand."
Mr. Watson's credentials looked okay. Uncle John knew that U. S. secret service men ranged the world if for no other reason than to run down income tax evaders in foreign countries.
And, actually, he had no reason to doubt Mr. Watson. Actually, Mr. Watson was merely a rich Texas con man who had some years before fled to Argentina to escape the U.S. and Texas law.
Antonio de la Vega and Matt Watson were close friends. They hunted together and roamed whorehouse sections in Buenos Aires with each other. Their specialty was for one to fuck the girl in the mouth while the other entered her through her anus.
Uncle John felt better after Mr. Watson arrived. He at least knew his government was aiding him, and if a government didn't help a citizen what the hell use was a government, anyway?
Uncle John turned detective. He questioned hotel employees again, hoping to find one who'd seen whoever had left the films. He ran into a high blank wall. The hotel officials innocently inquired as to the whereabouts of Uncle John's family, and Uncle John reported that Aunt Emma, Amy and Sig Nelson had been unexpectedly called back to the United States.
Two days later more film was left at his door. Again, no hotel employee had seen it dropped. Uncle John ran this on his own projector. It showed Amy sucking Sig's prick. Aunt Emma then sucked Sig.
Aunt Emma and Amy went into the lesbian six and nine, tongues probing and lapping. Sig then rode each woman from behind, alternating between the woman's cunt and her asshole.
Again, Uncle John searched the background for a clue as to the whereabouts of his family. He saw only ordinary furniture, a blank wall, windows and ordinary drapes, and nothing more.
Frustration hammered the lawyer. He again noticed how happy Aunt Emma appeared when Sig ran his penis up her rectum. She also appeared very happy when she had Sig's cock in her mouth.
Where had this film been developed?
Uncle John did some more detective work. He discovered that this type of picture development had to be sent to Buenos Aires to be completed. He imparted this information to Mr. Watson, inviting the man to view the film. Watson viewed in silence, chin on his elbow. Evidently Mr. Watson was in very deep thought as he closely watched Mr. Watson, then checked bus and airplane depots to see if the film had been sent to Buenos Aires-or returned to Santa Lucia-through these two mediums. He discovered nothing, he related.
"That film hasn't gone out by bus or air," he said. "It must have gone out by private automobile."
Watson later related this information to Chief-of-Police Antonio de la Vega, who was washing his hands after developing some film back in the police department lab which Uncle John didn't know about.
Antonio laughed, white teeth glimmering. "You want in on this fucking?"
"I'd sure like a piece of the virgin," Watson assured.
Uncle John's next film-delivered two days later-introduced what seemed a new cock. Of course, the owner of the prick was not shown. Whoever handled the camera was an expert. Just the new cock and its owner's thighs showed.
This prick was sucked by Amy, Sig and Aunt Emma. Uncle John stared. Surely the trio must be doped, he thought Or else why would all three suddenly turn into sexual perverts?
Yes, they had to be doped!
This sudden line of reasoning made Uncle John feel better. He also got more angry at whoever had kidnaped his three loved ones.
Each frame showed some form of sexual perversion between Amy, Aunt Emma and Sig. Sig's penis was either in the mouth, cunt or asshole of any of the two women. They in turn enjoyed sucking Sig's penis and going six and nine on each other.
Uncle John thought, The whole world's suddenly gone nuts....
Matt Watson turned up no leads. Neither did Antonio de la Vega or any of his police or detectives. Uncle John bought a small one-lunged Italian motorcycle, the kind delivery boys used.
He disguised himself with a mustache and old clothes. He toured Santa Lucia, tough barrios and all. He poked into whorehouses and cantinas. He wished he knew how to speak and understand Spanish better. He didn't understand much he heard.
He learned nothing new. Soon he took to touring the country seat, plowing through the dirt of country lanes, visiting haciendas and farms. He took the role of a peddler selling cloth.
One hacienda, six miles north of Santa Lucia, seemed very prosperous, for it even had its own light plant. Uncle John was there one afternoon. The light plant was putt-putting. He figured this odd. Why would the plant be operating during broad daylight?
Nobody answered his knock. He peeped in a window. The big room had no occupants. He was surprised when a man came around a corner of the huge, rambling estate. For the man was at least seven feet tall!
Uncle John stared in amazement. He'd never seen a man of seven feet tall, even in a circus. He saw the man was Indian. The man wore only old trousers. Muscles glistened on his thick chest. His huge bare feet were covered with dust. He carried a long, dangerous-looking machete in his leather belt.
Uncle John beat a hasty retreat.
His nights became nights of hell. Gaudy red dreams smashed through his sleep, jerking him awake. He awakened screaming sometimes, his naked body covered with cold sweat.
Later, he'd try to remember his dream. Sometimes he couldn't remember. Other times he knew he dreamed of the Nuremburg Trials. And why did he dream of something long past these many years?
Sometimes he dreamed of the hanged Nazi war criminals. He saw them on the gallows, neck broken, fat bodies turning slowly in the slight breeze, their hands and feet tied securely.
He remembered that one of these convicted war criminals had been discovered in Sough America in Uruguay, the little republic across the Rio Plata from Argentina's north border. The Nazi had fled there for safety but had been discovered and tried and hanged at Nuremberg.
Now why did he dream of this criminal who had met his just fate?
He remembered that this man had taken his family to South America, too. He remembered the man's name: Walther von Hagen, or was it Haugen? What difference did it make ... now?
Where were his wife, his niece and Sig Nelson?
Uncle John found himself becoming thin and run-down. He hardly slept. When he did sleep, it was in broken catnaps. He didn't eat regularly. He began to have the obsession that somebody watched him-always watched him....
"God-damned stupid persecution complex," he told himself.
He arrived at the theory that Aunt Emma, Amy and Sig Nelson had been spirited from this section and were secreted miles away in some mysterious hideaway. Surely they couldn't be in this area, could they?
"I'm breaking up," he said to himself. "I'm going nuts. My nerves are breaking under this.
"This God-damned ignorant country-And these God-damned stupid people-I can see why they holler for a robber like Peron and Evita. I wish I could understand all I hear around me."
His persecution complex grew. He became unaware of the passage of time. New films were delivered despite Matt Watson watching the post office, the bus and plane depots. Chief-of-Police Antonio de la Vega still had road blocks searching all vehicles entering and leaving Santa Lucia.
"How the hell are those films getting in here?" Antonio de la Vega wondered. Uncle John didn't see the chief's covert wink at pseudo FBI man, Matt Watson. "Are they dropping from the sky?"
"They're not coming in on planes," Watson assured. "I've searched every bit of baggage and every shipment that's come in by plane or bus."
"Jesus Christ," Uncle John said, "this is completely crazy. Why don't the sons-of-bitches let me know who much money they want?"
"Maybe they don't want money?" Antonio de la Vega said.
Uncle John stared at the Argentinean. Antonio was in complete blue uniform despite the heat, complete to a row of medals across his chest.
"Who in the hell ever kidnaped except for money?" Uncle John demanded.
Antonio de la Vega shrugged thick shoulders. "You've not been contacted to pay," he reminded.
"What do those medals mean?" Uncle John unexpectedly asked.
Antonio looked at the lawyer as though he thought Uncle John crazy. "They're war medals," he said.
"War? What war?"
Antonio said nothing.
"You've never been in combat in your life," Uncle John said, and laughed. Antonio wheeled and walked into his office, straight-backed.
"You insulted him," Matt Watson said.
"Christ, how can a man get decorated in combat if he's never been in combat?" Uncle John asked. "He's like one of those big fat Mexican generals all covered with medals and he's never seen a moment of combat in his life except on TV or in the movies!"
"These are very sensitive people," Watson said.
"They really must be," Uncle John said. "Every time one gets a chance he's got his cock in my wife's mouth or up her ass or cunt." He laughed very shrilly.
"Don't let it get you down," Watson said. "We'll find them sooner or later. One thing is sure: they're all alive. The movies you receive tell you that. You've got that to be thankful for."
"You're a wonderful consolation," Uncle John said. "If you could only catch kidnapers as well as you talk this gang would have been behind bars long ago."
Watson also turned and walked away.
"Christ, I've insulted him now," Uncle John grinned.
Uncle John found his only solace in the big masseuse. She now slept with him each night. Hotel help had complained about Uncle John's hollering after a bad dream. The masseuse therefore moved in with him to silence him, but of course Uncle John didn't know this reason.
Uncle John thought the big-breasted woman had moved in just because of his prowess as a cocksman.
He'd told the woman his wife and the others had deserted him. The masseuse had dreams about snagging rich Uncle John as a husband while he was on the rebound. She put everything she owned to work.
She fucked him seven times the first night and five the second and three the third and only once the fourth night. The first night Uncle John had three ejaculations and faked the other four. The second night he had but two, faking three. The third night he had one, faked two. The fourth night he had trouble getting an erection and could shoot nothing from his aching, tired balls.
The masseuse then sucked him. She couldn't get him to erect. She got on her hands and knees and Uncle John ran his prick up and down her open buttocks but his cock refused to stiffen.
He parted her legs and pushed his head between her thighs, he lying on his back and looking up. The masseuse's big ass came down and her cunt hair filled Uncle John's face. He had little heart for this work but the woman was blistering hot and he had a feeling his inability to use his cock on her was a reflection on his manhood.
The thought came that a man was indeed finished when the stiffest part of his sexual apparatus was his tongue or his forefinger! The masseuse swung around and his nose got in her anus. She then bent her head and he felt her warm mouth envelop his limber dick.
She began sucking, he lapping.
Within minutes, she expressed herself sexually. Her cream ran down into Uncle John's open mouth, sweet and womanly. Uncle John swallowed, loving its taste. His manhood was challenged.
Her massaging lips, full and strong, finally brought life to his over-worked penis, and Uncle John felt much better. His manhood had met the challenge and stiffened. He decided he wanted to put his prick in her asshole.
They knew the other well, for by this time they had .fucked often. Slowly, the tongue gave his cock its last lick; his prick left her mouth. She stood on all four with her head on her folded arms, her legs spread wide and her crack open, her asshole sinning in the dim light. Below her anus was her cunt, still damp and white.
Uncle John put his nose in her crack. His long red tongue lanced out, whipped around her anus, then withdrew and savored what it had found. Again it swept out, only lower this time, cleaning the white thoroughly from her pubic hair, darting once into her open cunt, then snaking out again as he stood on his knees, cock pushing against her anus.
His prick was still damp from Her mouth. Her anus was still damp from his tongue. Therefore his cock entered with the least resistance. Instantly warmth flooded the stiff prick, lancing back to Uncle John's balls.
His hand went down and two fingers entered her wet cunt. He squeezed her clitoris gently. He was instantly rewarded. His fingers became sopping wet. Her buttocks twisted with driving passion, wrenching delightfully on his prick. She moaned, her breasts shaking.
Her hand came back, found his sack, then played with his testicles. Her light fingers drove tantalizing emotion into him, making his balls dance with anticipation. He took his hand from her. His fingers were white. He carefully licked them clean, his throat loving the sweetness of her come.
Then, sudden passion grabbed him. His belly congealed, his testicles became instantly ready. He grabbed the big waist with both hands. He rammed ahead, smacking into her buttocks; he pulled back, her buttocks retreating, her asshole tightening solidly on his cock.
"Come! Come! Come!" she screamed.
Uncle John bucked her big ass, breathing hard. For one moment, he thought he'd fail to have an ejaculation. His testicles had seen much wear and tear lately. Had they seen too much?
The big woman settled this. She twisted his testicles hard. The act brought pain and surprise to Uncle John. He lunged back, angry and snarling. And, as he pulled back, his testicles spoke.
His sperm shot into her rectum. The shock she'd given him had proven the necessary spur. He spilled and spilled in her, thrilling to her anus, closing and releasing his plunging cock.
Harsh grunts broke from his tense lips. His heart pounded. His belly flattened. His testicles pulled high into their brown bag. The anus twisted, pulled, released; the anus drained his testicles completely.
Then he lay on his back, breathing deeply, heart pounding. A little more of this female and this old barrister will be a dead man. This woman'll kill me off. A man's heart can stand just so much, and no more!
He felt her lips clean his prick. She bent over him, breasts dragging, and a nipple landed in his mouth. He began sucking it. Instantly, it began to harden, to fill his mouth. He realized he'd erred in sucking this button. She'd soon be hot. Soon she'd demand another piece.
He pushed the nipple from his mouth.
He fell asleep with her licking his cock. Two nights later he could take no more sex. He sat in the lobby until midnight, dreading to go to his room. She'd want sex with him. He was completely incapable. He decided to take a walk and then turn in hoping she would be asleep.
He'd received a film the night before. That morning, when alone, he'd run it. Amy and Aunt Emma had been whipping each other. They had had long lashes, and they beat each other. It had ended with Aunt Emma on hands and knees.
Both women had been naked. Amy had then beat Aunt Emma over the ass with a leather strap. Aunt Emma's face had shown supreme bliss. The camera had gone down low and panned in on Aunt Emma's cunt.
The hair had been matted with whiteness. White secretions dripped from the gaping cunt. Aunt Emma was having orgasm after orgasm under the belt. She opened her mouth and screamed in what must have been delight. Uncle John wished the film had had a sound track.
The naked women had then whipped each other again, breasts bouncing. Their long lashes had crackled and smashed flesh. Uncle John had stared in horror that soon changed to curiosity. He'd read about humans who found orgasms in pain caused by whipping.
This time it was Amy who got beat with the belt. She lay over a chair and apparently implored Aunt Emma to hit her naked ass harder. Aunt Emma had her small legs spread wide. She plied the belt with both hands. It landed flatly on Amy's luscious wide buttocks.
Both women now opened their mouths wide. Both were apparently mad with sexual lust. Finally, Amy staggered upright. Her entire belly was smeared with white. The seat of the chair was also white.
Amy stood, trembling. Aunt Emma threw down her belt. Suddenly, she was on her knees, facing Amy. Her tongue began cleaning the white come from Amy's belly. Amy put her head back, lips clenched.
Aunt Emma's tongue cleaned Amy's belly and pubic hair, then darted into Amy's cunt. Amy then put her back to her aunt. Amy bent over, her hands opening her buttocks; Aunt Emma then tongue cleaned Amy's shining anus.
Suddenly, two cocks shot into the sides of the picture. Uncle John saw only the pricks and not their owners. He felt sure one cock belonged to Sig, but he recognized the other penis immediately.
This was the biggest prick he'd ever seen, the one that had been rammed up the assholes of his wife and niece. Aunt Emma sucked off the owner of the huge penis.
Evidently the man owning the magnificent prick was very tall for Aunt Emma had to kneel on a chair to be level with the huge cock.
She had a hard time getting started. Her mouth was too small for the enormous bulb. Now big hands moved into the picture. Forefingers hooked Aunt Emma's mouth at the corners and spread it wide.
The forefingers left. Aunt Emma finally got the knob in her mouth. Uncle John stared as the long round prick slid down his wife's throbbing throat.
Although a small woman, Aunt Emma took the cock to the big testicles. Her tongue snaked out and licked the balls as big as golf balls.
Uncle John could do nothing but stare. He marveled how his wife's mouth could absorb such a huge prick. He wondered how his wife breathed around the long round cock.
He glanced at Amy. She sucked rapidly, a look of bliss on her face, her eyes closed as her head went back and forth, mouth sliding up and down the prick. Uncle John took his gaze back to his wife.
Aunt Emma's man appeared near to going off. Suddenly he grabbed Aunt Emma's head, big hands cupping her cranium, and strained her close. Aunt Emma's tongue was wild, licking the big balls. Her jaws made circular motions.
Come blasted into Aunt Emma's mouth. "He sure creamed her," Uncle John muttered jealously.
Aunt Emma reluctantly released the big cock, now limp. The cock moved out of the picture. The camera centered on Aunt Emma who rolled the come in her mouth, eyes closed as she savored its sweetness.
"If I ever find her, I'll ram it up her ass first," Uncle John grumbled, "and then into her mouth to the balls. Jeezuz, what a line of shit she's handed me these many years!"
Aunt Emma swallowed. She licked her lips. The camera went to Amy, who'd just received her wad. Amy's face showed supreme bliss as she tongued the creamy fluid.
"And you'll get the same treatment, slut," Uncle John told Amy.
Now, Uncle John hiked through the hotel's wooded area, escaping the big masseuse as long as possible. He came to a clearing high with swamp grass. To his astonishment, a huge man reared out of the grass, a long gaucho whip trailing behind him.
Uncle John stared, fear forgotten.
The man was so tall he seemed to reach to the yellow moon. He wore only a black breech-cloth. Moonlight glistened on copper-colored skin. Uncle John instantly remembered the abandoned hacienda he'd visited six miles north of Santa Lucia the other day, the farm that had the light plant running.
This big Indian facing him was the same huge Indian he'd seen at that rancho. Uncle John wheeled to flee, heart hammering.
He heard the snarl of the long lash behind him. Something came out of the night, striking with snake-like swiftness, to wrap itself around his throat. He tried to scream. He couldn't. He was being choked!
He felt himself being jerked backwards. The world blurred. He realized somebody had his arms around him, from behind. He felt something prick his shoulder.
Somehow, he managed to twist his head. To his surprise, he got a glimpse of the face of Antonio de la Vega. Antonio had his arms wrapped around him, from the back.
Blackness took Uncle John Martin.
CHAPTER NINE
Dimly the words registered on Uncle John's throbbing brain. "Heh, heh, heh! I'm goin' shit in his mouth, I am!"
Uncle John opened his eyes.
Weak daylight held the world. Over his face he saw the crack of somebody's ass. He decided, hurriedly, it was a female ass. Buttocks were thin and sharp, and from these buttocks was coming a long brown cord.
This brown thing was aimed right for his mouth!
Suddenly, his aching brain remembered Amy moving into one of the motion picture's frames, brownness all over her face and mouth. He'd guessed she'd been covered with shit. Now the same thing was happening to him!
He came hurriedly awake. He tried to rise, and found he couldn't. His arms and legs were spread out and tied to the floor. He tried to roll over. He couldn't. All he could do was move his head and hope that shit missed him!
"She did the same thing to me."
Amy's voice, coming from a great distance. Then, suddenly, the buttocks and long brown cord were gone. An old hag lay sprawled on the floor in her own excrement. She cursed Police Chief Antonio de la Vega who stood over recumbent Uncle John Martin.
"Sonofabitch! Some day you hit me for last time, cocksucker!"
Uncle John suddenly realized he was naked. He looked to his right. He looked into the eyes of Aunt Emma, also nude. Aunt Emma lay on her back, also tied down. Beyond her Uncle John saw two hard young bare breasts. He raised his head. The owner of those huge breasts was also naked and also on her back.
Amy said, "Join the happy party, Uncle!"
"Yes, do," a man's voice said.
Uncle John looked left. Naked Sig Nelson lay on his back, grinning angrily. Uncle John looked significantly at the copper bands on Sig's ankles and wrists, the heavy electrodes and chains attached.
"New way to tie down victims," Sig said. "All electric. And these magnets really hang on. I've tried and tried but can't break loose."
Uncle John heard a motor putt-putting in the distance. The truth surged in; He'd been within speaking distance of his family that day the big Indian had come around the corner, machete in his belt!
Uncle John looked up at Antonio de la Vega. "So it was you all the time, huh, you sonofabitch!"
Antonio kicked the barrister in the ribs. Uncle John rolled in pain. "Watch your God-damned tongue," the cop growled.
Uncle John looked at the big Indian. "I remember you," he said. His eyes returned to Antonio. "You made the films, too, huh?"
"He did," Aunt Emma said.
Uncle John looked at his wife. "You seemed to enjoy sucking the pricks around here," he said.
"Knock it off," Sig Nelson snapped. "We all were forced to a degree. And we all went native, I guess. Times haven't been easy, Uncle John."
The hag, now on her feet, lunged for Uncle John, screaming, "I'm going to shit in his face, in his face!" and Carlos picked her up, carried her kicking to the door, threw her into the hall and shut the door and locked it.
Outside, the crone cursed in Spanish and English.
Uncle John looked up at Antonio. "Well, you've got us all, now. You're safe except for Matt Watson. Watson will report my disappearance to the U. S. embassy and a full scale investigation will be made that might hit you hard, Latin Lover!"
"Watson's no U. S. government man," Antonio informed. "He's an escapee Norteamericano, a swindler. Ever hear of Moe Jacques?"
"You mean the Texan who swindled millions out of fake oil wells?"
"That's Watson," Antonio said.
Uncle John's belly sank. The hotel would figure he had left. Antonio would see that none of Uncle John's baggage remained in Uncle John's room. As far as the world was concerned, the four of them-
Aunt Emma, Amy, Sig and he-were things of the past!
Nobody would ever know what happened to them.
"You delivered the films to my room?" Uncle John spoke to Antonio.
"I certainly did. Official duties, you know-me investigating the rooms of your wife and these others."
"Brother, you missed nothing!"
"I try to be competent."
"Why?" Uncle John suddenly asked.
Antonio's handsome face was blank. "Why what?" he countered.
"Why kidnap us four? Why treat the women and Sig like this?"
"They were with you, that's why. And the one is your wife and the other your niece and the man was going to be your son-in-law."
Uncle John noticed the word was in the sentence. Evidently this madman then considered eliminating all four of them?
"Why hit at them to get at me?" the barrister countered. "What have I ever done against you?"
The handsome face stiffened. There was a moment of tense silence. Outside, the hag had quit whimpering. The Tierra de Fuego Indian, Carlos, stood like a huge, bronze statue, arms folded across his bulging chest.
Something terrible flared across Antonio de la Vega's face, then died and the face again was bland and emotionless.
Antonio didn't answer Uncle John's question. He jerked his head toward the door, eyes on Carlos. "Andele. Tu y yo...."
The two left, the Indian walking ahead. The door closed and Uncle John heard the lock slip into place. He looked at the high small windows. All were barred. "I can't understand that sonofabitch," he said.
His words hit the walls, bounced, settled. Aunt Emma moved, chains clanging. Suddenly, she began to laugh. High pitched, terrible, cutting-an insane laugh that curdled Uncle John Martin's soul. His wife was close to insanity, the barrister realized.
"Once again in the States," Aunt Emma said, "and never again will I leave its boundaries. The president is right. Don't waste good U. S. dollars traveling abroad. Travel at home."
Uncle John's head had cleared. He shot questions. Aunt Emma, Amy and Sig related details of their kidnapping, and where and how the event occurred. None had caught a word from Antonio de la Vega as to why he had kidnapped them.
"You mean you never got a ransom note?" Sig Nelson asked.
"None came," Uncle John assured. "That means he's kidnaped all of us for some other reason than money."
"What would that be?" Amy asked, bewildered.
Uncle John raised his head and looked at his favorite niece. Amy's huge naked breasts pushed upward, nipples lovely and strong. She lay with her thighs closed. Her uncle saw her forest of pubic hair. He smiled at Amy who smiled back. Uncle John lowered his head.
Something unsaid had passed between uncle and niece. Uncle John knew, instinctively, that if he and his niece got alone, she would gladly be his sexually.
"Let's analyze our situation," the practical attorney stated.
Aunt Emma, Amy and Sig had been fed properly. "Mostly sandwiches," Aunt Emma said. "You saw the films?"
"I did."
"I didn't want to at first," Aunt Emma said.
"Forget it," Uncle John said. "We all do things under duress we wouldn't do under normal conditions. That's past. We got to think of what might be ahead. Okay, we're all prisoners. We're chained down naked on our backs on a tiled floor. We've got wide copper bands on our ankles and wrists. Magnets are attached to these with their wires running through cbains. Have you tried twisting your head around enough to get a wire in your mouth to chew it in two, Sig?"
"It can't be done. We've all tried. The heavy links protect the wires. You'd have to chew through a half inch of steel before you could chew a wire in two."
Uncle John nodded. "All right, that's out. That motor we dimly hear-That must furnish electricity for these cuffs?"
"I think the same," Sig said.
Uncle John told about visiting this hacienda and located it for his eager listeners. His being so close brought ohs and ahs from Amy and Aunt Emma.
He told about suddenly meeting Carlos and then fleeing.
"The Indian had a machete in his belt. There'll be more machetes around this hacienda. Natives use them to cut sugar cane, you know."
"But we're not loose to grab one," Sig reminded.
"Tell me what you know about this electrical setup?" Uncle John spoke to Sig.
"See those switches? Over there on the wall? Right to the left of the door?"
Uncle John peered through the dim light. He clicked his false teeth slightly, a habit he had when nervous.
"I see them ... Ordinary house light-switches, they look like ... They control these magnets?"
"Just like turning off and on a house light," Sig said.
Uncle John asked, "How far away are they?"
Sig laughed, bitterly. "Too God-damned far! About twenty-five feet, I'd guess. Here comes somebody."
The door opened. First came Antonio, wearing only swim trunks, and behind him trailed huge Carlos, wearing only his breech cloth. Antonio spoke to Carlos. "First the lawyer."
Carlos touched a switch. Magnets clicked and rell from Uncle John's wrist and ankles. They hit the floor with a metallic sound. Uncle John's arms and legs were free.
"Get to your feet," Antonio said.
Antonio carried his cattle-prod. Uncle John knew immediately what it was. He had a smaller edition of a similar tool. He carried it with him when he went for his evening stroll at home. Dogs sometimes rushed him. One shot of the prod the lawyer carried and that dog ran yelping never again to rush Uncle John while he carried his prod.
Antonio pushed the prod against naked Uncle John. For one second, the gaunt barrister was frozen, congealed by the shock, muscles bunched, and then Antonio shut off the prod's switch.
Uncle John almost fell down. He caught himself, lips tight with anger. "You filthy sonofabitch!"
Antonio smiled with his lips only. "You will call me more than that before I am through with you, attorney, but I will have the last word, you crummy bastard! Now get moving! Or another shot-this time in your ass!"
"Move where?" Uncle John stalled.
"Out the door, of course!"
Uncle John stalked to the door, limp cock bobbing. The last Sig Nelson saw of the lawyer was the attorney's buttocks moving out of sight around the door jamb.
Sig slowly shook his head. Sig was sure of one thing, anyway. When Uncle John returned-if he returned-his anus would be different than it now was.
Uncle John's asshole would be very, very sore!
CHAPTER TEN
They took Uncle John to the torture room, the old crone hobbling along behind, mumbling to herself through toothless gums. Uncle John was a little slow climbing onto the bed. The cattle prod lifted him hurriedly. Soon the attorney lay on his back, spread-eagled and held down by the strong magnets.
"I don't understand you," he told Antonio de la Vega.
"There are times when I have difficulty in understanding myself," the suave man returned.
"Why are you hounding me and mine?"
Fine eyebrows rose. "For money, maybe?"
"You've asked no ransom."
"I shall be truthful." Antonio spat the words. "You could have billions of dollars. You could offer billions for your freedom. But you'd never buy it, Norteamericano!"
Naked hate -rimmed the Argentinean's words.
"I have no idea what I've done to you," Uncle John said, "if I have done anything, and I know I haven't. But my wife and Amy and the young man-Do you wish to destroy them, also?"
"I do."
"May I ask why?"
"If they live they can tell what eventually became of you. So they must-" Antonio caught himself. "Give hhn a shot of the prod, Carlos, to make sure his handcuffs and legs are securely fastened!"
Carlos grinned evilly. "Con gusto, jefe!"
The giant Indian pressed the cattle-prod against Uncle John's testicles. Uncle John screamed as though being castrated. The Indian then pushed the rod up Uncle John's anus. His big finger closed the circuit. Uncle John writhed and screamed, electricity lancing his muscles.
Carlos pulled back the prod. Uncle John lay completely spent, breathing deeply. He wondered if this prod had been used on the women and Sig. He was sure it had been. He could then understand why Amy and Aunt Emma and Sig had so gladly sucked cocks and cunts and licked anuses.
Anything to avoid this liquid fire tearing at one's heart, pulling at one's brain, petrifying lunging muscles!
He pushed his upper plate back. The electric shock had loosened it. His eyes finally focused, landing on Antonio, who spoke to the old hag. "You got any shit left in you?"
"I can shit anytime and anywhere," the crone boasted, sunken old eyes glistening and fastened on Uncle John's mouth.
"Then shit in this bastard's mouth!" Antonio said.
The hag giggled in unholy glee. She pulled up her dress, revealing flat bare buttocks, and got on the bed, squatting over Uncle John's head. Carlos gave the barrister a brief shot with the prod.
"That's to tell you not to move your head," Antonio said savagely. "If you move your head one inch you get another shot!"
Uncle John stared up at the anus and cunt coming down on his mouth. He saw gray, sparse pubic hair. Bristly gray hair ringed the opening anus. His nose went into the hag's crack as she settled down and stopped, anus an inch from his mouth.
"Open your mouth!" Antonio ordered.
Uncle John hesitated, dental plates clenched closed. The prod touched his peter. Quickly, he opened his mouth before Carlos could hit the button. The prod left his cock.
A loud fart broke from the anus above. Stink washed over Uncle John's face, making him writhe. Then the anus opened. Terrified, Uncle John watched the turd break free, start down toward his mouth.
He instinctively closed his mouth. The prod shot into his prick, jerking his body, snapping open his jaws. At that moment, the turd dropped. It fell directly into the barrister's mouth.
He heard a sardonic laugh. He realized Antonio de la Vega had the camera three feet away taking a picture of this. Uncle John left his mouth open, the turd lying stinkingly against his tongue.
Overhead, the hag strained, anus opening and closing. "I ain't got no more," she said, "but I can piss."
"Piss!" Antonio ordered.
Uncle John saw the ancient cunt open. Water sprayed down in a stream, amber and salty, landing directly in his mouth, also. The lawyer had to close his eyes. His brain reeled. This was a dream-a ghastly, terrible dream, and nothing more. Soon he'd awaken....
But it was no dream. A nightmare, yes-a living nightmare, but not a dream. For the shit stinking against his tongue was real, brown and soft. And the urine washing down his throat was bitter as gall and real urine.
He swallowed urine. He had to. His mouth was too full. The piss settled in his belly. He knew he'd soon puke. His mouth was still open.
"Eat that shit," Antonio ordered.
Uncle John hesitated, then felt the prod touch him-and hurriedly began chewing. The prod stayed against his testicles but no electricity shot into him. He chewed and chewed, gagging and sick.
During his long and illustrious legal career he had defended a number of persons accused of murder, but he'd never been able to understand why anybody-even in rage-committed murder.
Now he understood. He could kill Antonio de la Vega and this big Indian and this old hag, and kill them without a qualm!
He only prayed he'd get the chance!
"Swallow that crap!" Antonio snapped.
Uncle John shook his head. The prod hit him, then-he opened his mouth unconsciously, screaming against pain. The shit slid down his gullet. It landed with a thud in his stomach.
The electricity stopped. He felt his testicles move back down into his bag. The shock had made them jump up into his belly.
"Get off him!" Antonio spoke to the hag.
"I might shit again!"
"I'm not talking to you again, sabe?"
The hag seemed undetermined, squatting over Uncle John's face, cunt and asshole gaping open. Carlos gave her a shot with the prod, jamming it up her crack. She leaped directly to the floor where she landed in a heap.
Carlos kept the prod against her asshole. He drove her on hands and knees to the wall where she collapsed, cursing him and sobbing, clutching her buttocks in pain. The big Indian laughed.
"You got any piss?" Antonio spoke to Carlos, who nodded. "Then piss in his mouth," Antonio ordered.
Carlos shed his breech cloth. He laid his big cock on Uncle John's cheek. Antonio put his camera to his eye. Carlos held the prod on Uncle John's navel. "You bite my prick and you'll get this for an hour," the Indian said.
"Roll your head my direction," Antonio said. "Face my camera!"
Uncle John turned his head. Carlos' enormous cock was at Uncle John's lips. Uncle John caught the stink of the Indian's unwashed testicles and prick.
"Open your mouth and take his cock," Antonio ordered Uncle John opened his mouth wide. He couldn't take the Indian's big knob. He remembered seeing both Amy and his wife take this prick in their mouths. How they'd opened their mouths wide enough, he couldn't understand.
"Take out his false teeth." Antonio spoke to Carlos.
Carlos scooped out Uncle John's two plates. Uncle John understood, now, how Aunt Emma had been able to swallow this cock. She'd taken her plates out. But Amy had no plates. Amy had her original teeth. Amy's mouth must have expanded something terrible!
Uncle John still couldn't get his mouth open enough to take Carlos' bulb. The Indian hooked his big forefingers in the comers of the barrister's mouth. He pulled out terribly hard. Uncle John felt his mouth expand. Somehow, Carlos' knocker got into it, complete to the ring.
The big cock slid into Uncle John's mouth. He gagged, trying to puke, but the prick blocked his throat. He fought for air. The cock moved back, giving him breathing room.
"Use your God-damned tongue and lips," Antonio told the lawyer. "I want these pictures to show you tonguing his cock and licking his balls, sabe?"
Uncle John's heart sank. This film would be priceless. Within time, men all over the world would see Lawyer John Martin, the chief prosecutor at Nuremburg, sucking a red man's prick! He'd be the laughing-stock of the world. That is, he corrected, if I'm still living....
And right now odds are against that....
Could anything be more humiliating?
Terrible anger welled up in the lawyer. These men had disgraced him and his family. He swore, then and there, that he'd kill them both, or die in the attempt. He'd wait patiently....
"Lick his balls!" Antonio ordered.
Somehow, Uncle John got his tongue out around the huge prick. He made passes at the huge testicles each time Carlos plunged his cock deep into the barrister's throat. The rapidity of the Indian's hip movements increased. His prick went faster and faster into Uncle John's throat.
Antonio chuckled behind his whirring camera. Carlos' rough hands grabbed Uncle John's head. Then, he held the head close, his sperm pouring from his testicles into Uncle John's throat.
Uncle John felt the stream jet into him. He gagged and tried to cough but the big cock, pulsing and jumping in his mouth, made coughing impossible. Carlos held Uncle John's head hard against his belly and balls.
Uncle John again smelt the Indian's body stink. The great belly heaved and the prick flapped in Uncle John's mouth. Finally, the sperm stopped ejecting. Uncle John was forced to swallow it all.
Slowly, then, the cock left the barrister's mouth, the huge knob giving a last few responses-much like the last futile flops of a landed fish. The knob hung onto Uncle John's gums, then finally slid free.
Uncle John gasped air, filling his lungs.
Carlos dangled his cock before Uncle John's eyes. The enormous pecker was limp, a tiny drop of white on its piss-hole.
"Lick that off," Antonio ordered. Uncle John's tongue dutifully moved out. It took the drop of gizzum off Carlos' prick. "Jessuz, what a picture!" Antonio breathed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"The man is insane," Aunt Emma wailed. "He'll kill us all!"
Amy breathed deeply. The floor grew harder minute by minute, so Uncle John had seen those films ... Her cheeks burned.
She gently shifted her hips. Her anus was sore. But I've still got my maidenhead, she sourly thought. But Antonio is probably saving that for the last ... just before he kills us all!
"I can't see what motivates the sonofabitch," Sig said.
"He's insane," Aunt Emma cried. "That's all the motivation he needs-Insanity! And my husband-he saw those films-"
"Somebody's corning," Sig said.
They all went deadly silent. The door opened and Carlos and the hag came in, the crone trailing the tall Indian. "Me, I touch the button," the hag cried.
She darted around Carlos. She slammed a dirty thumb against a wall switch. Sig's magnets fell from his leg and arm-cuffs. Carlos instantly noted this. He backhanded the crone hard across the face and sent her flying against the wall where she stood and stared at him.
"You loosened the wrong one," Carlos said.
The big, naked Indian hit the button again. He walked over to where Sig lay. Sig's leg magnets had again fastened themselves but his arm bands were free, magnets lying on the floor.
"Touch those," Carlos said in broken English.
Sig studied the big man, then realized his legs were bound. He accordingly moved his arms out and touched the magnets which leaped to the copper band, binding him again spread-eagled on the floor on his back.
Carlos touched another button. Amy's bonds fell free. "Get to your feet, bitch," the Indian said.
Slowly, Amy got to her feet, weary muscles protesting. She had an idea what lay ahead, and she dreaded it.
"Be brave," Aunt Emma whispered.
Amy looked at Sig. "Nothing we can do right now," Sig breathed. "Maybe later ... darling...."
"I love you," Amy told Sig.
Sig said, "I love you, darling."
Carlos touched Amy with the cattle-prod. Amy leaped wildly as the metal conduit brushed her bare skin. Her breasts bobbed wildly as she leapt. Carlos didn't turn on the juice, though.
He laughed sourly.
Amy walked proudly out the door, naked buttocks rising and falling, her breasts young and hard, her belly flat and solid. She thought of Uncle John. She knew she'd be brought to her uncle. She knew that Antonio would make her and Uncle John commit some obscene sex act.
Antonio wanted more filthy film.
Her mind was clear. Uncle John and she should not be forced to sex each other. He was her uncle. She was his niece. Yet, deep inside, she wanted sex with Uncle John. She faced facts squarely.
She'd wanted sex with Uncle John for years. Ever since I first started menstruating, she thought. She wondered if her uncle, during these years, had secretly longed for sex with her. Her smile was crooked. She'd soon find out!
But she wouldn't act as though she relished such sex. She'd just tolerate Uncle John's sexual intrusions-or, act as though she only tolerated.
"Where are we going?" she asked in Spanish.
"To get fucked," the hag said. "Fucked by your uncle!"
"God damn you!" Carlos cursed the hag. "She asked me, not you!"
"Fuck you!" the crone said.
Carlos made a swipe at the hag with the cattle prod. Cackling, she leaped out of reach. She spat at him, spittle hitting him full in the face.
Carlos almost lunged for her, but caught himself in time. Had he lunged, Amy would have run. "Get moving," Carlos told Amy, rubbing spit from his nose, the hag swinging in behind.
Carlos came in behind Amy. He ran the flat of his hand down her crack, massaging her anus slightly. He grinned evilly. The hag ran ahead and opened the torture room's door. Army entered.
Uncle John lay on his back, naked, on the bed. He was not chained down. His eyes were closed. Amy noticed that her uncle's cock was limp, lying over his balls. Uncle John's pubic hair was gray.
Uncle John opened his eyes.
"What are you doing here?" Uncle John asked.
Amy was suddenly very aware of her nakedness. "They brought me here," she said.
Uncle John said, "The dirty bastards!"
Both knew what lay ahead. Utter humiliation awaited both. Amy's heart beat wildly. Antonio de la Vega would make her uncle fuck her. She would be forced to have sex with the man who was the same as her father.
Yet, deep inside, she wanted to sex her uncle. She was ashamed of the thought. Still, it was there-lingering, darting in and out. She felt sure her uncle would not be allowed to have sex with her in the normal man-woman manner. To so have sex would break her hymen.
And Antonio was reserving that for himself!
"Your uncle," Antonio said, "hasn't a hard on, senorita Amy. Is there not something you can do about that to bring him an erection?"
Amy made no reply.
Covertly, she glanced at her uncle's penis. Uncle John was fairly well rigged, she noticed-he was heavier hung than Sig. Secretly, her mouth longed to tongue her uncle's limp cock, to work it into hardness.
This desire surprised her. A few days ago the very thought of having a man's prick in her mouth would have made her ill.
Now she lusted to suck Uncle John into a perpendicular state! And also a few days ago the idea of lesbianism would have been revolting, and she and Aunt Emma had enjoyed tonguing the other. Or, at least, she had. And apparently, judging by Aunt Emma's actions, Aunt Emma had also enjoyed the six and nine.
"Well," snarled Antonio, "answer, bitch!"
Uncle John said, "Do as he says, Amy. You'll have to do what he wants, anyway. There's no escaping, darling."
Amy spoke to Antonio. "What do you want me to do?"
She knew full well what the suave Argentinean demanded of her, but she deliberately played ignorant.
"What the shit do you think?" Antonio said shortly. He gestured with the cattle-prod. "Get to work, norteamericana bitch!"
Without glancing at Uncle John, Amy bent her head. Her lips nibbled at her uncle's limp penis. She felt his penis throb as life surged into it. She tongued the knob, rolling it between her lips, catching its slightly salty taste ... and loving that taste.
Sexual lust flared in her, blurring her vision. She shot a sidewise glance at her uncle. Uncle John lay with closed eyes, mouth a firm line, belly heaving. Amy got the impression he liked what her mouth did.
Uncle John's prick gradually became stiffer. Amy's nipples hardened, her breasts swelling and tightening. Her tongue took command of her logic. Her tongue twisted and loved Uncle John's rising penis.
She realized, suddenly, that she loved sucking off a man. The feel of his cock, pounding in her mouth, enticed her and thrilled her as his knob became bigger, his cock more rigid.
His prick had a sweet taste. As her head rose and fell, his foreskin came ahead, covered his knob, then sank back again, pushing his bulb deep into her throat, giving her a dancing feeling in her stomach.
Her cunt tightened. Slight orgasms possessed her. Her nether lips became damp and white, her pubic hair congested with her secretions. Her hips thrilled, flesh dancing warmly.
Her breathing increased. Her heart beat faster. But the big thrill was in her taste and tongue. Then, too, there was the smell of the man-his masculinity, of tobacco, shaving cream ... Good healthy clean American male perfume....
Uncle John's cock now was rather hard. She rolled the knob between palate and tongue, loving it and increasing its tension and size. Uncle John still had his eyes closed but he breathed heavier.
His belly rose and fell. Amy had no idea how much her tongue and mouth thrilled her uncle. Uncle John realized his niece, with much less practice, was much better with hp and palate than the big masseuse, who perhaps sucked off at least ten customers each working day.
Uncle John forgot he had been going to act as though he were cold to his niece's advances. His passion also overcame his logic. His trembling hand went out, located Amy's bare ass. Fumblingly, his ringers inched forward, landed in the crack between her curvaceous buttocks.
He tugged slightly. Accordingly, Amy swung her ass slightly toward him, her flesh thrilling to the touch of his strong hands. His fingers played around her asshole, puckering it and making her heart pound with new sexual lust.
Her sexual orifice was very damp now, white running down inside her thighs. Her asshole moved in and out, challenging his fingers. A forefinger ran down, she spread slightly; the finger touched the bottom of her cunt, entered slightly, and passion spun her wildly, making her mouth hard and solid upon Uncle John's now rigid cock!
"Crawl over me," her uncle said.
His strong voice didn't hold courtroom depth now. It was a rough trembling voice, tinted and toned by sexual emotion. He pleaded with his niece to put her cunt over his hungry mouth!
"Get your ass over his head!" Antonio de la Vega commanded.
The hag cackled, "He's goin' run his tongue in her cunt!" and Carlos ordered, "Do as the boss says, bitch!"
Soon Uncle John's head was between Amy's thighs as her mouth still loved and hung to his cock. She felt his tongue sweep her pubic hair, picking up her whiteness. The tongue licked down her legs, lapping up her excretions there. Her thighs began moving up and down, her cunt coming down lovingly on her uncle's open, hungry mouth.
Uncle John sucked her hair and the edges of her cunt clean, his tongue and lips driving madness into her, making her own tongue fasten hard around the barrister's prick. Overwhelming emotion grabbed Amy. This was much better than masturbation! More soul-filling, more satisfactory!
How would she feel when Antonio's cock broke her maidenhead?
She didn't know, of course, how she'd feel, but she felt sure it would be the greatest thrill of her life-one she'd never again experience. Now, she didn't dread the moment; in fact, she looked avidly forward to it!
She realized she and Uncle John were no longer humans. They were animals-sex-mad animals-rolling and lusting in each other's flesh. Her tongue flared out, lapped her uncle's balls, then drew back, wrapping around his prick as her head went up, the long cock slipping down out of her massaging lips.
Surprise struck her. Her uncle was much better at tonguing than was Aunt Emma or Chuck, and she'd considered Aunt Emma tops. Uncle John's tongue was a darting, sweeping broad thing, swishing around her cunt, moving inside and savoring her womanhood. Now the long tongue squeezed her clitoris. Passion poured into her hips, spilling her womanhood into her uncle's hungry mouth below.
Now Uncle John's tongue, damp and loving, darted up her crack and circled her anus, pushing hard against its puckered surface as though begging entrance. Obligingly, Amy strove to open her asshole to thus allow the tongue to enter.
To her surprise, the tongue had left but still weight pressed against her anus. She realized that Carlos, cock protruding, had placed his penis against her asshole, his balls dragging in Uncle John's face.
"Holy Christ, what a picture!"
Who'd said that? Oh, yes, Antonio de la Vega! He was getting a close-up of Uncle John's tongue in her cunt, the barrister's face being swept by Carlos' testicles.
"This picture'll be worth a million," Antonio chortled. "Think of what the gringo lawyers will pay to see their great big lawyer with his tongue in his niece's cunt and my big Indian's balls hanging over his head!"
Uncle John missed a stroke. Amy knew that the chief-of-police's ravings had momentarily brought Uncle John back to reality.
"Don't pay him any attention!" Amy said.
She realized, suddenly, that Uncle John had not heard her. Nobody had heard her. Her words hadn't left her mouth. You can't speak and be heard when your mouth is chockfull of a man's prick!
Uncle John's tongue again resumed rhythm.
Amy was hardly aware of Carlos' huge hands fastening firmly around her small waist. But she instantly became aware when the Tierra de Fuego Indian's huge cock lunged into her asshole!
Momentary pain lanced her, making her jump slightly. Then, the pain hurriedly passed as the prick glided deep into her colon, the redskin's testicles pounding against her buttocks.
Uncle John's tongue had lubricated her anus, she realized. And evidently Carlos had had his cock well greased.
Anyway, the pain had not been great ... this time. The enormous prick slid in and out, with her automatically tightening her anus muscles, thereby pulling harder on Carlos' cock.
Supreme delight surged through her. What more could a girl ask? A cock in her mouth, a tongue in her cunt, and a prick in her anus! A few days ago, she'd debated and wondered about sex and its glories. Now, she knew full well the unlimited happiness of sexual intercourse.
Once again, she realized no man's cock had punctured her hymen. No prick had sprayed cream into her hungry vagina. Would ordinary sex-a man on you-be as grand, as uplifting, as thrilling, as what society termed 'obscene sex'?
Uncle John's cock became harder and harder. It was now an uplift of stone throbbing in her throat. She knew he was close to creaming her. Carlos' cock was also very rigid in her asshole. She felt he also was close to coming.
As for her, she'd come again and again, for Uncle John's tongue was an expert's tongue, knowing just how to stroke and excite her clitoris. Ah, Uncle John was coming-and how!
Her tongue snaked out, red and damp, and lapped his balls the same moment those testicles spoke, spraying her uncle's come against her palate. The big knob of his cock hammered against the roof of her mouth. And his creamy manhood jetted from his prick, filling her oral cavity.
And, within a second, Carlos had erupted in her colon, shooting his whiteness deep into her asshole. Her own hips came down, squatting directly over Uncle John's mouth, and her ovaries sprang into action, her uncle's lips and tongue working swiftly as they absorbed her body's sweet feminine fluids.
Then, the world was still. She lay spent on Uncle John, whose prick was wilting in her mouth. She swallowed the last of her uncle's sugar-sweet come. Carlos' cock lay silent in her asshole.
Carlos was the first to uncouple. Slowly, his long prick snaked out of her, then fell free, sagging over spent balls. She then released Uncle John's cock, raising her head, letting the knob slide sweetly free betwen her white-rimmed lips.
She then raised her hips, Uncle John's tongue finally falling free. Carefully, she got off the table, leaned against it and then suddenly began weeping.
Uncle John stroked her naked back. "Don't cry, darling, don't cry ... Be strong of heart, sweetheart...."
Sweetheart....
Uncle John hadn't called her sweetheart since she was a baby! Now when he said sweetheart he actually meant she was his lover. The word sweetheart promised that again and again they would practice sex....
If they lived....
Suddenly the hag's voice cut in, "I wanta shit in his mouth! Shit in his mouth!"
"Go ahead," Antonio said.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Aunt Emma and Sig were alone. Sig said, "I got a hard-on. I want to fuck you, Emma."
"I want to fuck you, too," Aunt Emma said.
Sig lay on his back. He looked at Aunt Emma's big breasts, rising up as she also lay on her back. Their chains were too short to allow them to make a sexual union. In fact, their hands couldn't touch each other.
"We sure had a good fuck on the floor while Carlos was-" Sig hesitated.
Aunt Emma laughed shakily. "Say it, honey. While Carlos was cornholing Amy. But you're still marrying Amy, understand. That is, if by some miracle we live through this."
"Why are you so adamant?"
"I want you in the family, big boy. I want you handy to fuck the minute I get hot pants."
"Uncle John saw that film showing you and me fucking on the floor," Sig reminded.
"Yes, and unless I'm wrong right now my husband is fucking Amy, his niece, or they're tied up in some sexual connection."
Sig nodded. "I understand ... Six of one and half a dozen of the other, huh? Uncle John can't jump on you because you've got plenty against Uncle John. Well, the same holds true for Amy and me, too."
"We four will have a lot of sex ahead," Aunt Emma said dreamily, "if we don't get killed first by this sonofabitching maniac. Are those steps I hear in the hall?" Her face paled.
"They're steps," Sig confirmed.
The hag entered, Carlos following. The crone darted for the wall switches. Carlos tripped her. She fell on top of Sig. She leered down into his face, fangs showing.
"I'm goin' fuck you," she chortled.
Sig pushed her off him. "At least you've changed your tune, bitch. Up to now you were always going to shit in somebody's face!"
Carlos booted the hag to the door, kicked her outside, then closed the door. He was naked. Sig saw whiteness around the base of the Indian's big cock. Carlos had recently been sucked off or screwed, Sig deducted. He didn't know the whiteness had been put there by Uncle John's tongue leaving Amy's cunt and licking up to wash the brown off the Indian's prick when it had come out of Amy's anus.
"You next!" Carlos pointed to Aunt Emma.
Aunt Emma accepted her fate stoically. She took out her false teeth and threw them to Sig.
"Somebody'll put a cock in my mouth," she said logically, "and my teeth might choke me. Take care of them for me?"
"Sure," Sig said.
Their eyes met. Love passed between them. Sig had to make the moment light with, "I wish it were me who could put it into you, sweetheart. And I'd do it right, like two people in love should do it."
Aunt Emma laughed. "When Amy left you said you loved her, remember? Now you talk sweet to me.
"That other was just a farce."
Aunt Emma got to her feet, bonds released. "How do I know what you tell me isn't the same?" She looked at Carlos' limp cock. "You've been screwed lately," she laughingly accused, her laugh raw and high-pitched.
"Get moving," Carlos ordered.
Sig fingered Aunt Emma's false teeth. He watched Aunt Emma's ass go around the corner of the door. He had the start of a hard. Just looking at that luscious ass with its small waist made his prick begin to stand, for he remembered her small cunt-the tiniest his cock had ever entered.
When Aunt Emma dragged down on you, your cock got really pulled and massaged. Sig's erection grew, the memory of Aunt Emma's naked ass clear in memory. At that moment, out in the hall, Carlos put the tip of his cattle prod in Aunt Emma's crack, making Aunt Emma leap ahead, screaming.
Carlos laughed. He hadn't put on the juice! But these norteamericanos-these silly rich sonsabitches-were afraid of a little electricity, no es verdad?
When Aunt Emma entered the torture room, Amy lay on her back on the bed. Amy's legs were spread and in the air. Antonio de la Vega had his face in Amy's crotch, his tongue gingerly entering Amy's damp cunt.
Uncle John sat naked on a chair, idly watching Antonio tongue Amy. "He's checking to see if her maidenhead is all in one piece," Uncle John said.
Antonio raised his handsome head. He licked the white from his lips. "She's still got it," he said.
The hag said, "I feel, huh?"
Her trembling, bony hand shot out. Antonio hammered it aside. "You'll break her hymen, you fool," he snarled. "Your fingernail is too long!"
"I felt before, remember? And I didn't break?"
"Throw her out," Antonio told Carlos.
Carlos advanced toward the retreating crone, cattle-prod at the ready. The old woman flattened against the wall, eyes streaming tears, mouth working over toothless gums. "I just sit and watch!" she wailed.
Carlos looked at Antonio, who said, "Okay, but just sit, remember?"
"I sit." The crone sank down on the floor, back to the wall, fingering her flat breasts nervously, her eyes riveted on the cattle-prod.
Antonio spoke to Aunt Emma. "Get on the bed!"
Aunt Emma hesitated. Carlos slapped the cattle prod into Aunt Emma's crack. Electricity sparkled. Aunt Emma screamed. She fairly leaped onto the bed, clutching her buttocks.
She whirled, cursing Carlos and Antonio. She then jumped on Uncle John with, "Why don't you get us out of this God-damned mess!"
"Why don't you?" Uncle John countered sourly.
"So you finally fucked your niece, huh?"
Uncle John studied his wife. "Mind your Goddamned foul mouth," he warned.
"You've always wanted to fuck her," Aunt Emma raged. "Oh, hell, I've seen it in your eyes, you lecherous old bastard."
Uncle John slapped her face. Aunt Emma fell off the bed and landed on her knees clutching her jaw, weeping. Uncle John moved forward. His cock was directly in front of his wife's face. Aunt Emma looked up. She stared at her husband's limp prick.
"Suck this," Uncle John ordered.
Aunt Emma looked up at his stern face. Antonio, Carlos and Amy watched silently. Even the hag quit blubbering to stare, greasy head cocked.
"Suck it!" Uncle John repeated angrily.
Aunt Emma's lips went out, fondled the big knob, took it into her mouth. Uncle John pumped back and forth, holding his wife by the ears, bending his knees slightly so his prick would be level with his wife's mouth.
"You haven't fooled me," the lawyer told his wife. "I know how you and those other lesbians in your club lay with each other. You thought you had me fooled, huh? Well, things will be different, now!"
Aunt Emma said nothing, sucking vigorously. Suddenly, Uncle John released her ears. He pulled his prick from her mouth. He walked back to his chair, cock swinging. Amy noticed Aunt Emma's mouth had hardened her uncle's penis slightly.
Amy felt proud of her uncle. Uncle John was old but he was still a man-all man! He could still quickly erect!
Aunt Emma got to her feet. Again, Antonio said, "Get on that bed. And this time, stay on it!"
Aunt Emma clambered on the bed and lay on her back beside Amy, who wondered what was ahead.
"You go over your niece," Antonio said, "and you lap her and she laps you, sabe?"
Aunt Emma looked at Uncle John. Amy knew what bothered her aunt. Aunt Emma didn't want Uncle John to see her in lesbian action.
Carlos gestured with the cattle-prod.
One gesture was enough. Aunt Emma went over Amy, Amy's head between her aunt's soft thighs. Amy looked up at Aunt Emma's tiny cunt. Again, the smallness of it surprised her. Her virginal cunt was much bigger than Aunt Emma's!
The opening nestled in its thick forest of hair, sweet and enticing. Automatically, Amy's tongue shot upward, licked the right edge of the cunt. Her tongue came back in her mouth. Aunt Emma tasted good!
Amy was surprised at her action. She had, of her own accord, licked her aunt's cunt! Nobody had told her to. Her tongue had just moved out, licked, and loved what it had glided across.
Amy sought for an excuse. She was sure she wasn't lesbian ... No, what was wrong was that she was nervous, for soon she might be murdered ... That was it, her nerves!
And again, her tongue shot out, licked, again came back, again savored Aunt Emma's sexual secretion!
And Aunt Emma ... Already Aunt Emma's tongue probed Amy's cunt, seeking to open it and lubricate it so she could taste her niece's sexual sweetness, but couldn't that be expected of Aunt Emma, who consorted with a group of other lesbians when at home?
As for Aunt Emma, a great weight had left her shoulders. For years she'd hidden from Uncle John that she was a lesbian-but Uncle John had so guessed all the time! Never before in their long marriage had Uncle John slapped her. Her cheek still burned. Uncle John still loved her!
Aunt Emma's tongue burrowed into her niece's cunt. She tasted the warmth, the sweetness, the constriction of Amy's female orifice. Her tongue found the edges of Amy's maidenhead, danced across the taut membrane-but did not break it, for Aunt Emma was deadly afraid of Antonio de la Vega.
Antonio had ordered that the hymen couldn't be broken. Antonio would kill the person who broke it, Aunt Emma deducted. And, while thinking in this manner, she wondered how a girl Amy's age-nineteen-could still have an intact maidenhead.
Aunt Emma had lost her maidenhead at thirteen, when the tongue of a neighboring girl-lesbian had shattered it.
Suddenly, Aunt Emma's thighs jerked, for Amy had stroked her aunt's clitoris, hitting the 'joy box' exactly with the doubled tip of her tongue. Aunt Emma spilled her whiteness, feeling Amy's lips suck hard, Amy's tongue scooping.
Amy was certainly learning fast, Aunt Emma thought.
Aunt Emma didn't know that the hag was on her knees in front of Uncle John, who still sat on the chair, and that the hag sucked Uncle John's penis, rolling it happily between her gums, with Uncle John sitting eyes closed, feeling his cock stiffen and erect, the hag's spittle and tongue working wonders.
The hag cackled, Uncle John's expanding prick stifling the gleeful sound. Carlos hunkered against the wall, his long cock almost touching the floor as he watched Aunt Emma and Amy lesbian each other.
Antonio said, "Be careful, woman. Break that girl's maidenhead and I'll break your God-damned neck!"
"I won't break it," Aunt Emma replied, chokingly.
Antonio spoke to the hag. "How are you doing?"
"El tiene un erection."
"He's got a hard on," Antonio translated. "Okay, lawyer. Get behind your wife and go up her rear!"
Uncle John said nothing, watching Santa Lucia's chief of police. The hag lifted her head, just the tip of Uncle John's cock in her mouth. She watched Uncle John's face, her lips massaging his bulb.
"Maybe I don't want to," Uncle John said.
Antonio looked significantly at Carlos, who tossed Antonio the cattle-prod. Antonio jabbed the prod against Uncle John's hip. Electricity sizzled. Uncle John froze in his chair, mouth open.
The hag got the worst jolt, having Uncle John's prick in her mouth. She went backwards, screaming. She landed on the floor. She lay and cursed Antonio in rapid Spanish.
Antonio paid her no attention. "You going to do as I ordered?" he asked of Uncle John.
Uncle John got to his feet. "I'm doing as you say." His head ached from the electrical jolt. "But when you shot that electricity into me my prick went soft."
"It'll harden again," Antonio said.
Uncle John approached the bed, looking at Aunt Emma's buttocks. Amy's face, tongue working, looked up at the lawyer, her nose almost in Aunt Emma's anus. Uncle John laid his prick in Aunt Emma's crack.
Aunt Emma wriggled, enjoying the feel. Uncle John's cock slid down and contacted Amy's lips. Amy shot her tongue around her uncle's prick, then again entered Aunt Emma's cunt. She devoted her time to Uncle John and her aunt, and soon Uncle John's prick grew long and hard.
Antonio spoke to the hag. "Grease him a little!"
The hag dipped into a jar, coming out with petroleum jelly. She put this on her lips. She then took Uncle John's cock in her mouth, greasing it as she moved her head back, leaving a big gob of jelly on his bulb.
"Now on his wife's ass," Antonio told the crone. The old woman smeared grease on her tongue.
She went behind Aunt Emma, opened Aunt Emma's buttocks wide. Her tongue shot out. She carefully greased around Aunt Emma's anus, jabbing her tongue inside briefly to grease there.
The hag swallowed. "She is ready and so is he."
Uncle John's prick easily slid into Aunt Emma's anus. Aunt Emma contorted her hips, welcoming her husband's penis in her rectum.
Carlos' camera began clicking, taking in Uncle John's face, his prick in his wife's ass, and Aunt Emma's face, dipping deep into Amy's cunt.
Uncle John grasped his wife by the waist. He plied his cock in and out of her yielding asshole. Aunt Emma's anus clung to her husband's prick, pulling and loosening, massaging and yielding. Uncle John's hips went back and forth. He closed his eyes, sick at heart.
My god, what pictures this madman had! Of the hag, shitting and pissing in his face, and of Carlos, his cock in Uncle John's ass, then in Uncle John's face. What would the world say when it saw such filthy pictures of one of the United States' most famous barristers?
Then, logic hit Uncle John. He felt sure Antonio would soon kill him and his three family members. Antonio could not afford to let them live, for one thing-they'd have enough on Antonio to send him to jail for life.
No, Antonio had to kill them ... eventually.
This fact changed entirely Uncle John's frame of mind. He became reckless, for death was close-so why not enjoy life ... while he had it?
His hips flashed in and out. His testicles resounded against his wife's straining buttocks. Occasionally Amy's tongue lanced up, licking his balls, driving sexual lust into her uncle's blood.
Uncle John's cock slid in and out. He felt his bowels stir to sexual passion, the first indication of a coming ejaculation. He fucked faster, fingers gouging his wife's flanks.
Aunt Emma caught her husband's emotions. Her anus opened and closed around his shaft, loving and caressing it. Suddenly, Uncle John's testicles broke.
His sperm shot down his penis. It smacked into his wife's colon. Aunt Emma's hips went wild. Her anus contracted, pulled, opened, closed. Uncle John's nostrils flared.
His heart beat wildly. His testicles spewed and spewed. He couldn't ever remember having such a great ejaculation.
He poured his manhood into his wife's hot rectum.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Naked, big Sig Nelson lay alone, chained to the floor. Sig figured that in time he'd be escorted to the torture room. He had small desire for further sex, either normal or obscene. For once in his life he was, as he put it, 'rather fucked out.' He'd had enough ... for a while.
Sig was tired and hungry. He'd slept little because of his chains and the food was not too good, consisting mostly of stew and vegetables. And besides, who could sleep facing possible death?
What the hell was going on here, anyway?
The more he thought of his predicament the less sense it made. He had read about kidnappings and abductions but had figured, all the time, that they were things that would and did happen to other people, and never to Sig Nelson. And here he was, naked, chained to the floor.
Why did Antonio de la Vega want to torture them this way?
He gave up such thoughts. They led him around and around and arrived at no conclusion. His job was to escape and bring about the escape of Amy, Aunt Emma and Uncle John.
He eyed the switches on the wall.
The wall was about twenty-five away, he figured. For all of that, it might just as well have been a mile away, for all the chance he had to touch the buttons. Eyes narrowed, he fingered Aunt Emma's false teeth, and tried to think of some way to get to the switch that would break the electric current to his copper handcuffs and release him.
Dimly, he heard the putt-putt of the electric motor, somewhere on this hacienda. He had prayed it would suddenly stop. Then all would be released. But the motor hadn't stopped. Now it putted along in mocking challenge.
He looked suddenly at Aunt Emma's dental plates, then at the switches. With difficulty, he rolled on his side.
Could he throw one of the plates? Maybe hit the switch and close it? By lying on his side he had more play in his right arm.
He'd heaved many a touchdown pass in high school and college. He'd also pitched for his town's American Legion baseball team. He had earned a letter in college baseball as a relief pitcher.
But home plate was huge compared with the size of the switch. He realized he'd have to throw hard enough to make the plate bounce back to him so he could use it again to throw if he missed.
Teeth gritted, he cocked his arm, chain jangling, dental plate poised. Muscles bunched, he threw with all his might....
The plate hit the wall just above the switch panel. His heart jumped. Had the false teeth landed an inch lower, one switch would have been closed. He reached out with his foot, caught the plate against his instep, and pulled it in until he could reach down and snag it again....
Again, his muscles poised, ready to throw.
Sig Nelson smiled crookedly.
Antonio de la Vega strutted, naked. His cock banged up and down. He faced Uncle John, sitting naked on the chair. Aunt Emma and Amy were on the beds, magnets holding them spread-eagled captives.
"Whips," he told Carlos.
Carlos left the room and soon returned carrying two long bullwhips. Antonio tossed one to Uncle John.
"You're a big shot with your mouth," he said. "Now let's see how you are with a bullwhip!"
"I've never had one in my hand before in my life."
"Time you held one, then."
Antonio spun his lash out behind him. It was a good six feet long, including rawhide tassel. Wide-eyed, Amy watched from her bed with Aunt Emma, also curious, watching from the other.
"Leave my husband alone," Aunt Emma said severely.
Antonio whirled on her. "Then why in the hell didn't he leave me and mine alone almost twenty years ago?"
Uncle John studied the smooth-faced man. "I don't understand."
"You will, in time...."
Without warning, Antonio's whip lashed out. Aunt Emma had been raising her knee slightly. The lash caught her across the kneecap with a loud bang. Aunt Emma screamed and blood appeared on her knee.
"Lie flat on that bed!" Antonio ordered.
Amy lay motionless, flat on her back, shivering. For the first time she was really aware of this strutting Argentinean's insanity.
Heart pounding heavily, she vowed to do nothing to incur his insane wrath!
Uncle John started up from his chair. Antonio's bullwhip lashed out, wrapped itself around the lawyer's ankles. Antonio jerked back on his whip. Uncle John crashed to the floor. Antonio threw back his head. His white teeth glistened as he laughed fiendishly.
"You cut my wife," Uncle John said.
"I'll cut you, too, if I want to. I can cut your cock off with this lash. I can cut out your balls, one at a time-or both at once!"
Uncle John remained sitting, watching the Argentinean. Antonio paraded back and forth, his prick dangling, his whip trailing. Words spewed from him-Spanish and English and once, to his surprise, Uncle John was sure he detected a German word.
Something bothered Uncle John. Once before he'd seen a man about Antonio's build and size parading, spouting words. That man, of course, had not been naked, had not had an Argentinean bullwhip trailed behind his blustering, word-spewing person. Where?
Uncle John tried to concentrate. He tried to remember. He couldn't. His head ached, his soul was sore. He felt famished and weak. The world was not real. This was a nightmare, savage and bitter. Sometime, somewhere, it had to end.
Or did it?
No, this was reality. He smelled the evil body of this naked man. He saw the glistening flesh, the hard eyes, the skin.
Uncle John said, "If you are intent on killing us why don't you kill us all now-and be done with it?"
Anything was better than this imprisonment and torture and perversion, the lawyer had reasoned.
"You will die only when I wish," Antonio said.
Aunt Emma repeated, "Why do you want to kill us?"
"What evil have we done you?" Amy asked.
The two women were answered by two bullet-like reports of the bullwhip's tassel exploding inches from their mouths. Feet braced, Antonio whipped his lash forward, made it pop savagely, then let it trail behind him.
"I shall tell you," he informed, "in due time...." He turned on Uncle John. "On your feet, you soft yellow-belled norteamericano!"
Slowly, Uncle John got afoot.
"Pick up your whip!"
Uncle John shook his head. "I don't know how to use it. Kill me if you want;-and do it now-"
Antonio spoke to Carlos. "Hand the sonofabitch his whip!"
Carlos bent, got the lash, put the handle in Uncle John's hand, then stepped back, grinning wolfishly.
"I got to shit again," the crone whined.
Antonio said, "You'll get your chance, bitch. Hold it awhile."
"This time I want to shit in the woman's mouth," the hag said. "The oldest woman, my love."
Antonio's lash spun out, smashed her across the waist, knocked her howlingly down. "Don't call me love" he snarled.
He pulled back on his whip, uncoiling it from around her middle. The hag screamed and kicked, claw-like fingers clawing her middle. Her skin was cut. Blood oozed out and dripped on the tiled floor.
"Give her a shot," Antonio ordered Carlos.
"No, no, no," the hag screamed, cowering.
Carlos reached under Aunt Emma's bed. Amy looked at the man's asshole as he bent over. It was big and round and very brown, she noticed idly.
Carlos came out with a doctor's bag. He took a long-needled syringe from it. He jammed it in the old woman's right buttock and pushed down on the plunger. He pulled the needle out.
The old woman ran three feet, then fell on her face. She rolled over, unconscious. Uncle John said, "That's powerful stuff."
"Jungle medicine," Antonio said. "Lift your whip, man!"
"I won't!"
"Then I'll make you!"
What followed was living, roaring torture. Amy and her aunt watched, hearts in throbbing throats, all sympathies on the side of Uncle John, who was a helpless victim before Antonio's educated whip.
Uncle John stood very straight, hands at his sides. His face was pale and his lips twitched but he stood before what could have been certain death. For Antonio could have cut Uncle John's throat with the lash, had Antonio so wished.
Carlos leaned against the wall in a comer, out of the reach of Antonio's whip as it swung back preparatory for a forward stroke. The old hag slept in doped peace, totally oblivious of her surroundings.
Antonio's lash took a bit of flesh from Uncle John's right hip, then swung to the other side, nicking Uncle John's left hip. Blood trickled lightly down the lawyer's pale skin, mingling with the dark hairs of his thighs.
Amy saw that neither cut was very deep. Antonio had expertly broken the skin, nothing more.
Amy recoiled in horror. The lash had exploded but a mere inch from Uncle John's nose. Uncle John, though, didn't duck. How he had kept from ducking, Amy couldn't understand. She felt very proud of her uncle at that moment.
She noticed that Antonio was getting an erection.
Excitement filled her. She remembered her and Aunt Emma beating the other with the broad belts while Antonio photographed it with his movie camera.
Each time the belt had whacked across her naked ass sexual desires had grown until she had implored her aunt to strike harder. She remembered having a wild orgasm, every ounce of her body vibrating in sexual release.
Then Aunt Emma had dropped to her knees before her and had tongue-licked the come that splattered her pubic hair. How thrilling, how hot, how hungry Aunt Emma's tongue and sucking, imploring lips!
Then her aunt's tongue, bold and red, had invaded her cunt, running along the sides, cleaning and tasting there, then darting in and tonguing the hymen, careful not to break her precious maidenhead!
Precious, shit! Amy thought.
Amy's asshole suddenly twitched. She'd remembered bending, opening her crack wide with both hands, and with Aunt Emma's damp tongue circling her asshole, pushing hard against the puckered ring.
I'm getting hot, Amy thought wildly. Just listening to the whip crack, watching it shoot out, seeing it flick Uncle John's balls and cock ... Look at the hard-on that Antonio's getting!
Antonio's cock stood straight up, angled over his balls. Amy realized the Argentinean had a bigger cock than Uncle John, who in turn was hung heavier than Sig. She was disappointed somewhat in the size of Sig's cock.
Uncle John, in desperation, grabbed a whip, attempted to strike back. It was almost comical. His arm worked, but the lash went in all directions-hitting the wall and everything but Antonio and the other humans watching.
Within a short while, Uncle John also had a hard on. Soon his cock stood up rigid as Antonio's.
"You're getting a hard-on," Antonio taunted.
His arm cracked back, his lash spinning forward. Gently it flicked the end of Uncle John's cock. To Amy's surprise, Uncle John had an immediate discharge. Suddenly, he hunched over like a dog screwing another, hips working.
His face twisted with passion. His mouth opened but no sounds came. Amy saw his red palate. His belly heaved, muscles standing out. His buttocks went in and out, opening his crack, revealing momentarily his pulsating asshole.
His face was deadly white. It appeared all blood had rushed to his jutting cock. He'd dropped his lash. His right hand hurriedly skinned his prick back and forth, foreskin shooting over the knob, then back.
Suddenly the huge Carlos moved into the scene. Amy noticed that the Indian also had a terrific hard-on. Carlos' enormous cock looked like a flesh colored, red-tipped piece of pipe.
Carlos fairly lifted Uncle John and, when Uncle John came down, Carlos was under him, Uncle John's prick rammed to the balls in Carlos' big mouth as the Tierra de Fuego Indian sucked madly on the attorney's rigid appendage!
Amy gasped. It had all happened so quickly! One moment Uncle John was bent over, jacking-off; the next, he was on his hands and knees, Carlos under him with Uncle John's wand in Carlos' mouth.
Uncle John's mouth came down over Carlos' enormous knob. The attorney opened his mouth wide but couldn't swallow the bulb. Antonio roughly pushed down hard on Uncle John's head. Carlos' cock disappeared in Uncle John's mouth. The barrister's tongue lanced out and circled Carlos' huge balls.
Carlos sucked Uncle John and Uncle John now sucked Carlos. Amy saw Antonio drop to his knees, prick extending. The Argentinean got behind Uncle John's spread buttocks, his knees between Uncle John's legs, with Carlos' head between Antonio's knees.
Antonio spread Uncle John's buttocks wide, revealing the lawyer's shiny asshole. Amy saw Uncle John's anus clearly. Antonio's head went down. Carefully, he licked around Uncle John's asshole, depositing spittle directly over the opening.
Antonio then rubbed the tip of his stiff cock over this spittle. He then centered his cock on Uncle John's throbbing asshole. Antonio's hips shot again. Uncle John took the Argentinean to the balls!
Amy watched, blood pounding.
Sucking sounds came from the fucking trio. Uncle John's head slid up and down Carlos' cock. Uncle John sucked with noisy lips and closed eyes. Each time he sank down, his tongue dashed out and wet Carlos' balls.
Amy couldn't see Carlos' head very clearly because it was under Uncle John and between Antonio's knees, but she heard the slopping sounds of the big Indian's lips as they pulled and tugged at Uncle John's peter.
She clearly saw Antonio's prick entering and pulling out of Uncle John's asshole. Antonio fucked with both hands braced on Uncle John's spreading buttocks, his eyes on his cock.
He plunged in Uncle John to the testicles. His prick then hesitated a moment, then moved out to the knob to again hesitate, then again plunged into the barrister's colon.
Uncle John began a delightful moaning. Aunt Emma said, "The sonofabitch! Look at him suck and lap! And I always thought he was too straight and high and mighty-all these years I've had to go to females for enough sex!"
Amy had no answer. Carefully, she watched the men.
"From now on, by God, it'll be different," Aunt Emma said. "When I want it, his tongue's going to give it to me-or we're divorcing." Then she added, wisely, "That is if we live through this shitting mess!"
Again, Amy didn't answer. Her attention was riveted on the three men fucking in beautiful rhythm. To her it was an act of beauty and precision, and her blood thrilled. Unconsciously, her hips began twisting as though she, too, were receiving a cock.
Or a tongue, she thought. A tongue would be just as good as a cock. She laughed shakily. She had never had a cock in her cunt! Aunt Emma glanced angrily at her.
"What's so fucking funny?" Aunt Emma demanded.
Amy giggled insanely. "I remembered I'd never had a man on me ... like a man should cover a female."
"What'd you mean by that?"
"Well, I've never had a cock in my cunt-Actually, I've never really been fucked, in the literal sense of the word!"
"You haven't missed anything. You can't taste what he shoots into your pussy, niece. I like it much better in the mouth. Then I can taste it and really enjoy it. I just wish I had my mouth where my husband has his!"
Amy shot a glance at Uncle John. Uncle John was really polishing and pulling on Carlos' red pole.
Amy again laughed hysterically.
"What's so humorous this time?" Aunt Emma asked.
"Hell, we've gone through all this-and I've still got my God-damned maidenhead, remember?"
"Oh oh," Aunt Emma said, nodding at Antonio.
Antonio had heard Amy's words. He stopped, cock halfway in Uncle John's colon, and looked at Amy, who unconsciously had her hips working up and down. Amy immediately made her hips lie still. Fear struck her. With this fear was a feeling of happy anticipation.
For Antonio's hips moved far back. His bulb left Uncle John's asshole with a plopping sound. Antonio got to his feet, eyes riveted on Amy's open cunt. Because Amy's legs were held far apart, the Argentinean could easily see all the American virgin had.
"That's right," Antonio said. "You are still a virgin, at that!" He looked down at his rigid cock. "Lucky I never went off in that God-damned lawyer's ass! I've got it all saved for you, baby!"
Amy also looked at Antonio's prick.
Her breath caught. Her belly sickened. For Antonio's knob had a big piece of brown goo on it. Dirty colored streaks also marred the prick's damp surface.
Amy stared as Antonio came closer, cock extended ahead. He grabbed her head. He laid it on the side. Her head was level with his prick. His cock-and the brown clump-moved closer. Amy smelled the vile shit. Antonio suddenly twisted her ears. And he twisted very hard!
Amy opened her mouth to scream in pain. The cock-with the brown hunk-suddenly filled her mouth. The brown hunk slid down her throat, almost choking her. She gagged and swallowed it.
She coughed, throat gooey. The cock rammed twice deep into her throat, adding to her coughing, and then it drew back out. Amy had tears in her eyes from coughing.
Her coughing spell stopped. She tried to puke but couldn't, for she thought of the brown clump deep in her stomach, resting there and dissolving. Antonio laughed, one hand on his prick, the other holding his naked belly.
"How'd it taste, society bitch?"
Amy spat, "You're a cocksucker and a sonofabitch!"
Antonio slapped her face. Amy's head rang. Her ears buzzed. She closed her eyes. She breathed deeply, naked breasts rising and pitching, waiting for her head to clear. Finally her brain became clear.
She opened her eyes. Antonio's rigid prick again came forward. Amy closed her mouth tightly. Antonio ran his cock across her closed lips. His prick brushed against her nose. It smelled like an outdoor privy. The stink made her sick. Wisely, she held her breath while the prick moved back and forth under her nose.
Antonio rammed his cock against her closed eyes. He hammered her nose with it, working his cock up and down with one hand. The knob was hard as bone. Amy thought of Sig. She had to think of anything but this man ... and this prick....
Why hadn't they dragged Sig into the torture chamber?
She wanted to take Antonio's prick in her mouth. She wanted to love it and massage it and suck it until it spoke its white message. But stubbornness held her lips locked.
The cock moved down over her set chin. It played along her throat, jabbed upward under her jaw. Then, the stiff prick moved down. She felt it push her right breast at the base, the knob hard.
Meanwhile the grunts from Uncle John and Carlos still reached her ears. The old hag still slept, doped out of the picture. Uncle John and Carlos still sucked each other, making slopping noises.
"Amy?"
Aunt Emma's voice caused Amy to open her eyes. "Yes, Aunt Emma?"
Aunt Emma's eyes were riveted on Antonio's prick. "For Christ's sake, niece, if you don't want to take him on, I sure as hell will. In the mouth, the pussy, up the ass-anyway he wants to give it to me!" Aunt Emma wet her lips.
Amy said to Antonio, "You heard my aunt, didn't you?"
Antonio nodded, the tip of his cock pushing down on Amy's right nipple. "She's a good screw. She's got an awful tight cunt. She's good up the rectum, too-but her tongue work is her strongest angle."
"Then put it in my mouth," Aunt Emma pleaded.
Antonio laughed. He was gay, debonair, and had an enormous erection. "This idiot has stumbled along nineteen years keeping her maidenhead. And it's time some man's cock broke it. And the cock that breaks it will be mine. How many times in a man's life does he get to crack in a virgin?"
"I don't know," Aunt Emma said. "But my mouth-"
"Later," Antonio said.
Antonio now knelt on the bed, one hand still holding his prick. His other hand trickled down Amy's belly, making her flesh crawl. His hand found Amy's cunt after creeping through her jungle of pubic hair.
Amy tried wriggling her hips to escape his hand. Because of her bonds, this was impossible to do. Soon his forefinger was deep in her female opening. Although she told herself she hated what he did to her, the feeling his finger put into her was burning hot.
Unconsciously, her cunt opened, then closed. Antonio drove his forefinger into her until he touched her hymen. He ran his forefinger gently around the edge of the taut membrane, then moved out to its center.
Carefully, he applied pressure. The membrane sagged slightly and, for one moment Amy thought he would break it but, at the correct moment, his finger drew back-and the pressure ceased.
Amy couldn't help it. His finger did things to her. Her hips writhed and she creamed his hand, her whiteness covering the edges of her cunt's lips, lubricating it with natural lubricant.
Antonio smelled his hand. His upper hp curled slightly, the way a bull's does when he puts his nose against the shit-covered cunt of a hot cow. Then, he licked his forefinger carefully, savoring the taste of Amy's come.
He still had some cream on his hand. This he rubbed against Amy's mouth, although she twisted her head to evade his hand. The come became smeared on her upper hp. Without thinking, Amy's tongue shot up, licked it off.
Her come was sweet! It was like honey!
Aunt Emma said, "One's own cream is always best, dear. I learned that long ago in my cunt lapping days."
"Oh, close your filthy mouth!"
"We trade come in my club. After each go we kiss, holding the other's come in our mouths, and when we kiss we exchange come. Each girl then eats her own. Your own is always the sweetest."
"How thrilling," Amy said cynically.
She noticed that Uncle John and Carlos were uncoupling, their sexual session apparently having had a successful conclusion, for both rolled the other's gizzum in his mouth, Uncle John's eyes studying Antonio de la Vega.
"By Jesus!" Uncle John suddenly said. "I believe I've got it!"
Antonio glanced at him. "You got what?"
"Does the word Haugen mean anything to you? Walther Von Haugen."
"Who is he?"
"He isn't, any more. He was hanged as a Nazi war criminal. I prosecuted him at Nuremburg."
"Why did you think of this Von Haugen man?"
"You walk like him. Arrogant, stiff-typical bullnecked kraut. And a while back you even spouted out a few German words!"
Antonio spat at Uncle John. "You sonofabitch," he said.
He grabbed a whip. He slashed Uncle John, who rolled to escape. Carlos grabbed Uncle John. Soon Uncle John was in magnetic shackles, helpless under Antonio's rising and falling whip.
The whip cut the barrister savagely. Blood spurted. Uncle John screamed. Aunt Emma also screamed. Amy watched in petrified terror, straining at her bonds in futile efforts.
Finally, Antonio stopped whipping. Uncle John lay in much blood. The barrister was close to unconsciousness.
"Walther was my brother," Antonio stormed. "My only kin. My parents-tbey died in your Goddamned American bombing of Essen!"
Antonio was a man berserk. Slobber bung from his jaws. His nostrils flared. His eyes were wild.
Words tumbled from Antonio. "Walther took me-a mere boy-We fled to this new land but your God-damned spies caught him after many years and he went to your fucking gallows!"
Amy watched, terror holding her.
"He did only what Hitler ordered. Hitler said for those fat hogs to be put into the ovens, and Walther had a job."
"They all said that," Uncle John said.
"With Walther gone, I left Uruguay-came here ... All the time, I followed you in newspapers. I learned you had arthritis. I changed my name!...."
"And you sent me the leaflets on Santa Lucia, huh?" Uncle John asked.
"I did. I wanted you in my own backyard. I waited long for revenge, but we Germans know how to wait. Now I have you all my captives. I have long waited for this moment. You will not die easy, Herr Martin."
"I suspect not," Uncle John said.
"You and the other man-the young one-You two will be killed, of course-but ah, how slow death can sometimes be in coming-"
"You rigged this all up-these magnets-these beds-just for us?" Aunt Emma asked, voice small.
"Yes, I did. On this, my hidden hacienda."
"You waited all these years-?"
"Years are not long, society bitch, when at their end is the sweet reward of revenge, of putting to death he who murdered your brother."
Aunt Emma shivered.
"What'll happen to us women?" Amy's voice sounded very small.
"Ah, you women-Already you have the sore assholes, no? From the big prick of Carlos. Well, those assholes, I assure you, will never heal. Carlos' cock will continuously go up them!"
Carlos grinned wolfishly, feeble brain evidently understanding this much English. He laid his hand on his limp cock. He started skinning his prick up and down, evidently wanting another hard.
The hag stirred, coming out of it.
"You two will be fucking material for Carlos and me. And for our friends who we take to visit you, also. The old one-ah, she has a very small cunt. She will make a good madame in one of my Santa Lucia whorehouses. And you, young lady-you with the maidenhead-"
Amy watched the mad man's twitching face, petrified with fear.
"I shall now break your maidenhead, my love. I shall make you a complete woman. What a laugh! The word complete ... Ah, the romantic bullshit you poor misguided American's have to swallow!"
Amy stared, muscles frozen.
"Yes, I shall now fuck you. This time, not in the mouth or asshole-but in your cunt. Revenge is finally mine. Your uncle-the great world-famous lawyer-Ah, we have shit in his face, pissed in his mouth, fucked him up the ass-And we have found, much to our surprise, that he is a cocksucker, the sonofabitch!"
Antonio beat his cock on Amy's flat belly.
"But now my revenge shall be complete. Before the uncle's very eyes I shall take the niece's maidenhead. What greater insult can one offer a man one hates!"
"You're crazy," Aunt Emma said.
"Who isn't?" Antonio asked.
Antonio grabbed Amy's legs. "Free only her legs," he ordered Carlos.
Carlos touched a button beside the door. Magnets fell from Amy's ankles. She twisted her hips, trying to tear herself from Antonio's grasping hands.
She couldn't.
He was on his knees behind her, cock stuck out. He raised her legs high and spread them. He beckoned to Carlos, who moved to the head of Amy's bed.
Carlos grabbed Amy's ankles. He bent her legs back until Amy's knees lay on her breasts. This raised Amy's hips closer to Antonio's cock.
It also opened Amy's cunt, although she tried to keep it closed. Amy screamed. She spat at Carlos, who grinned and ducked.
"Yelling does no good," Antonio said, eyes on Amy's cunt. "You have a lovely little box. I hope I plant a baby in you, my love. You and I would have a wonderful son, blond and nordic and tall."
"That I shall soon do-to you," Antonio said. He looked at Aunt Emma, who watched, eyes wide.
"Fuck you!" Amy screamed. His gaze went to Uncle John, who strained at his bonds, cursing Antonio.
"Perhaps it is proper that the young man in the other room be brought in," Antonio said. "This woman is, after all, his betrothed. I am merely assuming a task that rightly is his. I feel sure he would feel very happy to see me break a maidenhead he should by law break."
Amy closed her eyes. Every fiber of her body ached with pain, fatigue and terror. She prayed Antonio would not drag Sig in to see his prick shatter her hymen. If that happened, she'd die!
"But time is the essence," the lunatic intoned, "and I am in position behind her, ready to enter. And I am loath to break this position-or wait another moment-"
Amy breathed easier. This insane German wasn't sending for Sig.
Amy felt Antonio's cock, now. The knob slowly burrowed through her forest of dense pubic hair, searching for her slot. By sheer effort, she shut her cunt, and held it shut against his pushing bulb.
Cursing, Antonio reached down. His forefinger and thumb forced themselves into her cunt. He opened her passage by spreading his fingers, his prick moving in. Amy felt his warm knob anchor itself just inside her cunt's lips.
She squirmed, to no avail. Carlos held her legs back solidly. Antonio's prick was firmly anchored. Antonio, also, held her buttocks savagely, both forefingers anchored in her asshole. Amy couldn't move in any direction.
Antonio intoned, "You will notice that my prick is in her just so her cunt covers my knob. I feel her maidenhead with the end of my cock. It is stretched very tightly."
Antonio's insane eyes glistened.
"It is a great privilege for a man to break a maidenhead, a privilege the average man seldom gets in his life. It is still a greater privilege to break the hymen of a foolish woman of nineteen, an Americana who is so ignorant and so full of scruples that she has all these years guarded a worthless membrane with her life-saving it for her future husband!"
Antonio's cock stiffened, knob lifting against the top of Amy's cunt, touching the right spot. Although she fought against it, Amy had an orgasm. She felt fluid run out of her. She stared down between the huge valley of her teats. She could see Antonio's cock. Cream covered its tip.
"The virgin is waiting," Antonio said. "She has, indeed, had an orgasm, spectators!"
Amy screamed, "I couldn't help it!"
"We all understand," Aunt Emma soothed.
Antonio wriggled his hips, cock moving in Amy. "Now watch closely, ladies and gentlemen. With one lunge of my hips, I shall break her Goddamned-"
He never completed his sentence. Desperately, a man tackled the German from behind. Sig Nelson hit with a hard football tackle.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The last noisy wedding guest had departed. Aunt Emma sat alone in her sewing room, her cunt very itchy. I need a good stiff fucking ... like Sig gives me, the middle-aged woman thought.
Again, sexual desires made her cunt itch. She closed her eyes and momentarily relinquished her hot body to memories.
That stupid-assed Sig ... Like an idiot, he'd tackled Antonio from behind, hoping vainly to save Amy's maidenhead for his own cock! But when he'd hit Antonio, he'd driven the Argentinean's cock into Amy to the balls ... and Antonio-not Sig-had broken Amy's hymen!
Sig had then hit buttons, freeing all from magnets. Carlos had roared down, fists working, on Sig, but Sig had a machete he'd found, and Sig soon had Carlos cut up, moaning for Sig to stop.
Uncle John, Aunt Emma and Amy had piled on Antonio, hammering and biting, and then Sig had come in, big fists hammering, after disposing of Carlos, and soon Antonio had been beaten down, mangled and bloody.
They'd left the trussed-up Antonio and the tied down hag in an old root cellar. Carlos had taken them to Santa Lucia where the negatives of Antonio's films were found in the police darkroom. These and the films in Antonio's camera had been burned. Uncle John then burned the films he had. No record of this terrible sexual affair then remained.
Sig had hit the right switch on the eighth try, he said, with Emma's false teeth tripping and breaking the electrical contact. Within half an hour all four Americans had been on a charter plane leaving Argentina.
Now, Sig and Amy had just been married.
The twitching of Aunt Emma's cunt brought her back to the present. She hurried to her bedroom where she disrobed and slipped into a flimsy negligee and hurried for her husband's room. Uncle John was a poor fuck but better than nothing.
To her surprise, her husband was not in his room.
Aunt Emma tiptoed down-hall to Amy's room.
Amy didn't know that Aunt Emma had a key to her room. When Aunt Emma silently unlocked Amy's room, Aunt Emma expected to find Sig having sex with his new wife-but alas, although Amy was having sex ... this sex was not with her husband of an hour or so!
Uncle John, naked, lay on his back, Amy on him in the six and nine, Amy's head pointing toward the door. Aunt Emma shamelessly watched, sexual desires growing stronger each moment.
Neither saw Aunt Emma. Uncle John didn't see her because he had his mouth against Amy's cunt, tongue busy, his nose in Amy's crack. And Amy was occupied with Uncle John's stiff erection, mouth sliding up and down the barrister's long stiff pole.
Trembling with passion, Aunt Emma slowly and carefully closed the door. She leaned against it for a moment, feeling whiteness cream the lips of her cunt. She went then to Sig's room.
The door was unlocked. Sig also was naked. He lay on his back on the bed, his erection jutting upward. He was asleep.
Evidently Sig had fallen asleep waiting for his wife to change from wedding gown to traveling attire. He'd left himself naked to be instantly ready for sex with Amy.
Aunt Emma tiptoed into Sig's room, closing the door soundlessly. She stopped by Sig's bed, admiring his stiff cock. Sig slept peacefully, heavy chest rising and falling.
Aunt Emma bent closer over Sig's prick. She caught the perfume of it and his asshole, hidden by the athlete's huge balls. Without thinking, her tongue snapped out, circled Sig's knob, then retreated back into her mouth.
Sig kept on sleeping.
Aunt Emma savored what her tongue had brought back. Sig's cock was much sweeter than Uncle John's, she realized. She thought of her mouth stretching to take Carlos' huge appendage.
There, brothers and sisters, had been a cock!
Carefully, she got onto the bed, stepped over Sig's legs and then stood spraddle-legged, pointed toward Sig's head. She discarded her negligee. She stood naked over the big man, his prick just below her spread buttocks.
Slowly, her knees bent. Slowly, her luscious buttocks came down. Finally, she felt Sig's knob in her pubic hair. Gently, she took his cock in her hand, steering it.
Sig's eyes opened.
"Aunt Emma," he said.
"You expected Amy?" Voice hoarse.
"Naturally, but I hoped for you. You've got the smallest cunt-" Sig twisted in passion.
For Aunt Emma had just introduced Sig's bulb into that tiny cunt. It was a very close fit, but Aunt Emma was creamed and properly slippery. She slid down the tense prick, feeling Sig's balls under her asshole.
A million delightful sensations speared her small body as she rose upward, cunt skinning the big cock. Sig groaned in pleasure, hands anchored on her small waist. Aunt Emma threw back her head.
She closed her eyes, enjoying the prick rising and falling inside her, stroking her clitoris. She knew she flowed like a high-school girl getting it for the first time. Sig's pubic hair would be all white!
She'd clean it ... afterwards ... With her tongue....
Aunt Emma fucked, motions growing more rapid. She thought of her husband, tongue deep up Amy's female opening. Uncle John's tongue could enter Amy to the roots now because Antonio had broken Amy's maidenhead.
And Amy-
Evidently she liked sucking better than the proper method? Had she not, why then hadn't she gone to her new husband for sex as nature had intended it?
No, she'd gone to Uncle John, to give him a blow job....
Aunt Emma gasped, feeling a grand big explosion coming. Sig's prick was bone hard, jamming deep into her each time her hips sank down. Things worked out okay, Aunt Emma thought. The family came through in one bunch. Everybody likes everybody else more than before our trouble....
Suddenly, Sig rolled Aunt Emma on her back. He straddled her, cock bouncing madly in, jerking back, his big hands tearing Aunt Emma's buttocks, his forefinger tight in her pulsating asshole.
