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WARNING: This story delves into aberrant sex
practices that might well offend you. If so, please leave. Some of
the sex depicted is consensual, some not. I don't condone it. I'm
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fantasy, a product of my imagination, and thus, completely fictitious. Peace,
brothers.
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Tito's Playpen
en la
Zona Rosa
(An Erotic Horror Story)
by
Hunsi
Book
cover Picture
Click to meet the players
/files/Authors/HumblePie/Pics/Tito.jpg
Chapter
1
Life is
but a Dream . . .
"I swear, Kelly,
I've had it," Didi flaired,
waving her fist about like a petulant child.
"If that bastard ever threatens me again, I'm out of here.”
“Oh, Didi,” Kelly sighed, “I know your dad can be a bit
hardheaded sometimes, but gee whiz, all you’re doing is throwing gas on the
fire.”
"What’s that?” Hailey said, imposing herself into the
discussion on the pass-by. “Did I just
hear you say Didi was going to set someone on
fire?”
“Go away Hailey, I’m
talking to Didi, not you.”
"Oh, so it’s
secret telling time is it, Miss Uppity?
Just because you two made cheer squad doesn’t mean you can just push me
off, you know.”
"Stop that,
Hailey," Kelly replied, “you're just being mean. Didi
has a right to her feelings.”
"Okay, I'm all
ears, tell me.”
"Didi’s father slapped her, and grounded her," Kelly
huffed, sounding fit to be tied.
"He said he saw her with Marco in front of Tribeca
Records on
"Oh, do tell. I can hear it all now. She was still wearing that itty-bitty Pom skirt, and Mister Hands was all over her. His hands pawing on her like a blind man looking
for something to hold on to.”
"You were
there?" Kelly gasped.
"Was I there? No, I wasn’t there you blabbering twit! I just know Mister Hands. I can just see her smashed up against the
wall with Mister Hands sucking on her face while squeezing her tits. It must have made quite a show.”
"Yes, it was a
show, and I don’t care!” Didi blurt out truculently. “But that doesn't give my father the right to
go wild on me."
"Oh, listen to
you, Miss Hotty.
You think just because you’ve got the hooties that
leave boys slobbering, you think you're big enough to stand up to your
dad? Walk out on him, fend for yourself
when you still need someone to warm your milk before bedtime?”
"Screw you, Kelly! I don't care what you say,” Didi bitterly spat out.
“If he gets in my face again, I’m not going to stop-at-go to collect
shit when I walk out that door! Now, if
you’ll kindly get out of my face, I’ve got practice in five minutes.”
----
“Didi,
get your ass down here now,” her father shouted out from the bottom of the
stairs, sounding thoroughly piss.
“What did I tell you?”
he followed, growing all the more livid as her silent grew all the more
pervasive. “Didn’t I say if I saw you
wearing the pom-pom skirt outside of school again I was going to burn the damn
thing?”
“Yeah, well, I guess,”
she replied, toning it down a notch in effort to quell the passions.
“You guess? Okay little Miss Attitude, I guess it’ll be
me you see dousing that skirt with lighter fluid and burning it in the
sink. Now, get your ass in the kitchen
and say your goodbye to that whore rag because it’s about to go up in flames.”
“Daddy, don’t you
dare,” she warned with her hands on her hips, staring daggers. If you touch that skirt, or me, you can count
me out of here.”
“Oh yeah? Well shit!
If I thought that possible, I might even consider saving those ashes in
a jar to mount on the mantle. You know, something to pay tribute to when I’m watching a horror
movie. I’ll call them the ashes that
saved me from this hell.”
That night, in tears, Didi quietly crept across the family room where the jar of
ashes sat upon the mantle. She stopped
for but a moment to look, then with her nerves
steeled, she turned and walked out the door to the rumbling sound of her
father’s snoring.
---
Chapter 2
“♫She’s leaving
home, bye-bye . . . ♫”
At
Of course, where the
bus was going to, or coming from, matter not to our young protagonist. As out of balance as the world appeared to
her now, to expect her to stop and think things out would’ve been a far leap
for any adolescent, much less one blinded by rage.
Still, the weight of it
all bore down upon her like an invisible hand holding her steady, on route,
away from all she’d ever known.
From Dyker to Flatbush to Tribeca, the
whole of her known world, or, at least the world she thought she knew. Something that came into doubt to moment she
stepped off the bus at the transit hub on
From the winos and
junkies hunched up against the crumbling brownstone walls, to the filth and
debris that cluttered her way. But she
hadn’t the mind to think about all that.
Not now, perhaps not ever, as the alternative was far more ruinous than
just stepping over, or walking around the piles of
waste scattered about on the walk.
Of course, the whole of
the street wasn’t as bleak. In fact,
just a few blocks further on the foulness turn to brightly lit shops, arcades,
theaters, and shoppers going about their daily life. One of which was a girl who came rushing out
a small bodega carrying a bag of groceries, and in haste to get where she was
going, crashed right into her.
As the girl stooped
down to pick up the goods that had fallen out, Didi
thought to help. And that’s when she
made first eye contact with the girl, and as she did, a sudden awareness came
to mind. “I know her,” she told herself.
“Barb! Barbie Denny, is that you?” She called out.
The girl, upon hearing
her name, looked up and smiled ever so brightly. “You know,” she said, “I feel as though I
should know you too. In fact, I’m
certain I must, but . . .”
“Didi,
Didi Hamm.
Your sister Meg and me are best of friends. I met you when I went to your house to play
ping-pong on your family room table.”
“Oh yes, I remember
now, the girl with the wicked top-spin.
And my, look at you. You’ve grown like a bean stock. A sophomore now, right?”
“Yep!” She nodded. “Too old to be listening to my dad, and too stupid
to not duck and cover when I don’t. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I hear you,” Barb,
laughed. “Still a
half-way girl. Though an
absolutely gorgeous one, that’s for sure.”
“You think so?
“Oh yeah,” she giggled.
“With your looks, nobody is going to be
nickel & diming you girl. Trust me, when you get
rolling, the cash is going to be flowing.”
“Yes, well, thank you. I guess!”
She quickly followed, looking rather puzzled. “But tell me, what about you. Where have you been? Have you gotten married or are you going to
college or something?”
“No, I do nails, I own
my own shop. See there,” she said,
pointing the way down the street to a neon lit shop. “That’s mine, ‘Barb’s Talons.’ Want to see it?”
“Oh, yes, yes, please,”
she beamed everso brightly, and then stooped to help
her gather up her groceries.
As they entered the
shop, Didi couldn’t help but see the Help Wanted sign
in the window.
“Wow! What a great place,” Didi
called out as Barb stored away her bag in the back room.
“Thank you, she said
upon her return. It’s all the making of
my life long dream.”
“Come along,” she
waved, “I’ll introduce you to the chain gang.”
The chain gang, her
hired help, sat at their tables upfront.
Sally, a pretty thing, who looked to be in her mid-twenties, and
Blanche, who was somewhere in her thirties, much as would her mother if she
were alive.
The foursome chattered
like schoolgirls for a bit, and until Didi’s
attentions were again drawn to that Help Wanted sign in the window.
“You do nails?” Barb
asked upon catching her looking at the sign.
“Only my own and my
friends, but I’ve been told I’m pretty good at it. In fact, I’m told my designs are as good, or
better, than they do at the Cyndi’s boutique on 76th and 8th.
“Oh my, that’s
great. It would seem you have a lot to
offer, and well, I dare say I could use the help. But you still go to school, and my word, what
would your parents say?”
“Oh,
no problem there. My dad is very loving and
supportive and understanding,” she blanched upon the telling of the lie.”
“And
your mom?”
“Well, if she were
still here, I know she’d be very happy for me.”
“Oh, sorry, I
forgot. But from I knew of her, I’m
certain she’d be quite proud of you.
“I know she would be,” Didi affirmed.
“Yes, well then, it
looks like all is in order. If you truly
were interested in joining the work-a-day world in lieu of school, you’d be a
prized catch to be sure. All you would
need is a work permit and a place to live, and you’d be set.”
“Yeah, right, it’s not
like they serve up work permits like they do lunch, you know.”
“No they don’t, but
they’re easy enough to finagle if you don’t mind fudging. And as for a place to live,
I could ask Mr. Gonzales, the man who owns the tenement above, if Allie’s old
apartment is still available. It’s two
hundred a month, but just a flight up, the convenience alone makes it a steal.”
“Two
hundred?”
“Yes, I know, that might
sound a lot, but you’d earn two hundred fifty a month here, and if you’re
frugal as a hermit as Allie was, it’s enough to keep you in Juju-beans and
buttered toast.”
“Juju-beans! Yum, I love them,” she squealed giddily. “If those are on the table too, then how
could I refuse? It’s a deal!”
All this was almost too
great to grasp. The chance encounter
with an old acquaintance, and getting a job and maybe an apartment too, life
couldn’t be more wonderful. But then again,
she had yet to deal with her father, something she
knew was going to be all but impossible.
Unless, of course, she just slipped out in the dead of night with what
she could carry, and disappear without so much as a good-bye.
----
Chapter 3
Two weeks later . . .
Joining the work-a-day
world without so much as a good-bye . . .
During her breaks, Didi would on occasion stand out on the front walk to share
a proffered smoke from Blanche. That is,
when Blanche wasn’t busy, and when she was, Didi
would go out on her own to watch the world pass by. Foremost, to watch the traffic going in and
out of the Tattoo shop located across the street.
And what an amazing
sight it was so see too! The people
going in and out were the who's who of crazy land, a place where those who lived
in dark spaces came out to meet up with all the other creepy-crawlers who stood
out as much as themselves.
Finding it all so
intriguing, she decided to venture across the street to see what was happening
inside. And that’s where she met,
Speedy, as in Gonzales, the owner of the shop.
A big, burly, hard faced man, who was never seen without his Cowboy hat,
boots and spurs, stood out as one of the most unusual of them all.
Blanche said to her
that the hat and the boots and spurs were his hook, but Barb said they were
just the mark of a crook, a smooth talking flimflam man and advised her to stay
away.
And right she was
too. Fact is, Didi would’ve had to be a pretty dull bulb to not see
that. Still, even as tuned-in to him as
she was, she felt all but powerless to resist him. No more so than when she walked in, and that ol’ sod slinked up close and whispered in her ear.
“Buen
día, niña (good day),” he
said, while he brushed aside her hair that draped over her eyes.
“¿Una
Tattoo para ti (A tattoo
for you)?” he asked, licking his lips with a swipe of his slithering,
lizard-like tongue.
With his eyes
unblinking, and that long pointed tongue that looked to be licking his chops,
she felt as though he was sizing her up for his next meal. Quite frankly, it was all so unnerving that
it left her speechless.
That is, even if she
understood a damn word of what he said.
Which, of course, she didn’t, and he could tell, by the puzzled look on
her face.
“¿No lo entiendes (You don’t understand), hm?” No problemo,
Speedy, he speak Engalish. No good Engalish,
but maybe yous un-da-stands
me’s better.”
Yes, dear reader, as
strange a character as he was, he also a freaking Mexican! A fence-hopping, illegal fruit picker who
somehow ended up in
That included, Didi, who found the disconnect
rather surprising. But there was one
thing she came to understand right off, the moment that greasy slime ball
slithered up next to her and pressed his lips to her hair on the back of her
head.
“Ummm,”
he sighed, breathing in deeply, “Yous still smell tu madre’s leche
(your mother’s milk).”
“But, Perdón (pardon), chica, you must
excuse. Speedy, he have
only tattoos, but no madre’s milk to give.”
“Does me blossom want a
tattoo?” He gushed out with a heavy
breath like a laboring man in the heat of passion.
Of course, with her
words all but lost to her, she didn’t have it within her to do anything other
than try to shake-off the shiver that shot up her spine like an electric
charge. And recognizing the shiver for
what it was, Speedy brought his fingers around and began to softly comb them
along her cheek.
“¿No be fraid, chica,” he said, sensing
her fear. “Speedy, he take
good care of yous.
He know how make pain go poof!!!”
He said, while his fingers burst open as if emulating an explosion. “Poof,Poof,
Poof! He chuckled. The pain go away.”
“Ven
(come),” he then said, “Speedy, he show, no pain, no worry.”
Again, Didi didn’t understand much of anything he said. But when he took her hand and led her over to
a curtained-off booth to show her an extraordinary attractive young woman lying
upon a table having a Cupid tattoo inked on her ass, his message came through
loud and clear.
“¿Si (See)? No
worry, no pain,” he said with a smirk while, Javier, the tattoo artesian under
his employment was in the process of shooting up a syringe full of a cloudy black
something into the cheeks of her ass.
“Esta
es (This is) Jane.
Jane, she’s una stripper. She full of joy,” he chuckled.
Again, Didi found the scene all too unnerving. It made her want to leave, not stay, but with
the girl softly purring like a pussy cat, and obviously not in duress, she saw
no reason to run, and instead, remained planted to the spot throughout the
process, flinching not a jot. Not even
when the tattooist penned the arrow of the Cupid’s bow down to the far reaches,
and until the pointed tip of the arrow just touched the brown, puckered ring of
her anus.
“Mira (Look)!” Speedy snickered. “No pain para ella (for her), no pain para ti (for you).”
“You like? He asked with an all too knavish look in his
eye. The kind of look that made her want to pull away. Which she did, shifting her head off to the side ever so slightly.
Still, no matter how
slight the glance away, that wasn’t what Speedy wanted to have happen. Though in sum, it was hardly an obstacle a
shrewd operator like him couldn’t easily overcome. In fact, it took him but an instant to
re-plot his course to get her to say what he wanted her to say.”
“Es
beautiful, no?”
“Yes, but . . .” She
said, leaving it out there to linger.
“No, niña, say no but’s! You like or no like. If you like, you stay. If no like, go play with your dollies.”
“Dollies? I’m not a baby.”
“Then you want?”
And there it was. Like her father before him, like the bully in
the school yard, he was asking her to put up or shut up. To prove to him that she was as grown up as
she believed herself to be.
“Yes,” she muttered,
facing away. And as to why, you might
wish to ask? Well, that’s what those on
the margins come here to do – to defy expectation.”
“Bueno!” Javier will paint the Cupid mañana (tomorrow).
Then turning about, he asked of Javier, “dámelo,! (give to me),” he said, pointing to what he had in hand.
And he did, along with
a swab, and devious smile as well.
“Gracias, Javier,” he
said, then turning back to face, Didi, “Now, Speedy,
he need his li’l blossom to
turn and bend just a little bit . . .”
--------
Chapter 4
The Days of Daze &
Confusion . . .
A bit later, Didi was once again sitting at her table painting a
colorful array of flowers on a ladies nails, though now, a wee-bit
distracted. With her body so laxed, and her mind vacant to all but the comforting
warmth, it was all she could do to make the rose she was painting look a rose,
and not a turnip.”
Then too, there were
those thoughts that lingered in the back of her mind that drew upon her
heavily, seemingly wanting to break through.
As to what they were
about she didn’t exactly know. Perhaps
it was her remembrance of the shame she felt when Speedy lowered her panties
and stuck a needle in her ass. Or
perhaps it was just those troubling thoughts she had whirling around in the
back of her head about Barb, and the shameful circumstances she found Didi in when she paid an unannounced visit to Speedy’s later on that afternoon.
In truth, her
unannounced visit was nothing less than a heart stopping, traumatic event, the kind that should have set off alarm bells in her head.
And, rightfully
so.
I mean, to be caught redhanded
kneading that girl Jane’s freshly tattooed ass to ease out the soreness as a
thoroughly incharge Speedy told her to do, should
have left her without the means to ever look Barb in the eye again. And worse yet, having been seen doing so
while Speedy’s slobbering tongue wormed it way deep
down inside her ear, should have been enough to bring on a heart attack.
But she didn’t drop
dead or faint away. Instead, she errantly
tried to bury her angst beneath a rather benign smile. The kind of smile that said to the world
there was nothing to hide here. That
neither Speedy’s slithering, slobbering tongue, nor
having to rub her oil-laden fingers in, on, and around that girl’s up-thrust winking
brown pucker didn’t trouble her in the lease.
And she carried that
benign smile around with her like a vest of armor for the remainder of the day
and into the next, and until Barb chose once again to accompany her on her
“You know, you don’t
have to ask permission to go visit Speedy,” she said, seemingly out of the
blue, and did so with an air of casual indifference. But more surprising yet, she said not a word
about what her saw on her unannounced visit to Speedy’s. So, as one might expect, she chose to over
look it too.
“You don’t mind my
going over to Speedy’s?”
“No, why should I? He’s a good guy and we’re both business
people, and well, he says he enjoys your company just as you do his.”
“I do?” She asked, with
a squint of her brows.
“Now stop it, stop
acting silly. I see that look in your
eyes. I mean, those big blues orbs are
of yours are nearly exploding out of you head.
And no one walks around like that unless someone or something is
occupying a pretty big space in her head.”
“Besides, he’s a very
generous fellow. When he invites me out
for a drink, he doesn’t flinch an inch whether I order a bottle of Dom Perignon, or a tubful to bath in. Plus, during those long winter months when
business is slow to none, I never have to worry about the rent.”
“He pays for your
rent?”
“Of course, I told you
already. Speedy, Mr. Gonzales, owns this
building. The whole of
it, from the apartments above to my shop below!”
“So, yes, of course, it
matters to me if the both of you are not getting along.”
“Yes, but . . .” Didi, heave a sigh.
“No, no, no, don’t say
it. I know what you’re thinking. You worry that it might come with a cost to
you.”
“Well, I’m here to
tell, your fears are groundless. He
likes you, and only wants what’s best for you.
Besides, you’ve got to admit it’s quite a thrill to have a big, powerful
man worth boo-koo bucks at your beck and call. It makes you feel the world is your oyster,
so why not flow with it? It can’t hurt,”
she said, ending it there. Then after
she snuffed out her smoke, she retreated back into the shop.”
Well, Barb was right
about onething.
Good or bad, Speedy’s world was most certainly
stacked full of thrills!
-----
The next morning things
went along rather smoothly between Didi and
Barb. No talk about speedy or any talk
about what had transpired the day before.
Or, least things when well until the time came for Didi to return to Speedy’s
Oh, she was still full
of smiles, of course, but she also seemed to be suffering from some sort of
irregularity. An irregularity manifest
in an odd looking facial tic she seemed to have developed overnight, as well as
a seemly insatiable itch that no amount of scratching could satisfy.
Clearly, this was not
the same girl who worked so diligently that morning, and the fact that the
twitching and scratching seemed to be an involuntary affliction, could only
mean one thing. That visit to Speedy’s to get her tattoo must have had hand in its
making. In fact, it was all clear as
day. Which oddly
brought a smile to her face.
So when Didi stood up to ask Barb if she could take a break, Barb
was all too quick to oblige.
“Uh-huh,” Barb nodded,
sounding all too cool & mellow and obligingly agreeable. Then when handing Didi
the smoke she asked for, she opened up with an inscrutable bit of nonsense that
left Didi scratching her head.
“Just remember,
dear. When he says
white you say black, followed with a ‘please, sir!’”
“What?” she wanted to
asked, but didn’t, nor couldn’t, not with that itching, twitching restless
unease pressing down upon her like an anvil.
So instead, she chose to chalk it up as the nonsensical chattering of a
girl who had a bit too much Dom Perignon the night
before.
When she again entered Speedy’s, she found him watching something in the third
booth on the right. As she approached
she saw Rafael, his Puerto Rican marvel with the piercing gun, string the
ornaments on one of the most gorgeously voluptuous brunette lying spread eagle
naked upon the table.
“Hola
niña (Hello girl), yous
come at the right time. We make Abby Pretty,” he said with some pride, pointing
at the gleaming gold rings hanging down from the lips of her vulva. Eight of them to be exact,
one of which looked to have come straight out of a bull’s nose.
“Hermosa (Beautiful)
no?” He gleamed, and nodded his approval as he pressed Didi’s
head down and forward to insure her got a personal, close up look.
“You like, yes?” he
sounded off jubilantly.
“Mira (Look), touch,
touch,” he then said with no less zeal while tugging upon the rings and
spreading open the lips.
Then when spotting the
viscous pearly white bubbles welling up from between, “
“See, niña, she like very much.”
“You too, yes?” he
asked, then looked back up at Rafael, “Bien! (Good!), you do good work Rafael. Now you fix Chica.”
Then in a hushed voice and in Spanish, “¿Tienes suficiente (you have enough)?”
“Oh, si, Patrón, mucho,” he beamed
brightly, as he reached into his coat pocket for what he knew Speedy was asking
about.
“Negra or blanca (black or
white)?”
“Hm,”
he pondered a moment while rubbing his chin.
Then turning to ask, Didi, “¿Tu Patróna, Miss Barbara, she
says Negro, no?”
“Yes, she whispered,
with eyes cast down.
“Bueno,” he replied,
while affectionately combing his fingers through her hair, and Rafael, his work
done, attached a leash to the largest of the rings that pierced the girl’s
lips. “Muy magnifico,” he then said to the girl, as he pulled upon the
tether and led her out like a dog.
“You wait, Chica,” Rafael turned to say in parting. “I will do you next.”
Chapter 5
Tattoos and Rings and
Marvelous Things . . .
The next day was yet
another slow day, and as those end of the month days tend to be, the ladies in
the shop spent far too much time filing their own nails than those of clients.
The same could be said
of Didi, though unlike the others, she languished
away the hours twitching and scratching, only this time, looking though closed
eyelids as is listening to something playing in her head. That is, until it was time for her break.
“Didi,
Didi,” Barb said, shaking her upon the
shoulders. “It’s time for your break.”
It took her a while to awaken,
and then find her legs, but once she did, they carried her firmly and hurriedly
across the street. Once more, that Cupid
tattoo freshly painted on her ass was all smiles, and feeling no pain.
She found, Speedy,
sitting in his office reading a letter that apparently came stuffed with
pictures. Or so she assumed, given that
his desktop as littered with instamatic shots.
“Mira (look),” he said
holding up the letter. “Un carta (a letter) from me
brother, Tito.”
“See the photos he send
me,” he said as he piled up the pictures for her to see.”
“Beautiful,
no?”
“Oh, yes, yes, there’re
beautiful. Where were these taken?” Didi asked excitedly, and beaming as brightly as a Cadillac
headlamp. “It’s such a beautiful place!”
“
“Yes, yes, I see them,”
Didi sounded off excitedly. “All the people on the
beach, swimming and sunning, playing and partying.”
“Si,
si, the Americanos, they
party the night long.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes, yes. My brother, Tito, he tienes
una pensión (he has a boardering house) in the Zona
Rosa. Many young turistas
come to stay.
“He does?” She said, with eyes burst open with surprise.
“Yes. You wish to see?”
“Oh yes, Oh yes, I’d
love nothing more.”
“Bueno (good). Then I take
you. But only for a
short while. Too
many days away, bad for business.
But first, Javier is ready to give you the pretty rings you want so
much, no?
“Oooh,”
she sighed, most assuredly in torment.
“Do I have to? I mean, I just
know it’s going to hurt, terribly, and I want to feel good, not hurt.”
“No, no, Chica, Javier will no hurt you! Promise!”
And, yes, dear reader,
Speedy was true to his word. Of course,
Javier did a bit more than just attach four gold rings to her puss. First and foremost, he had to quiet her
mind. Send her off to Lala land, to dance among the fairies and the magic toad
stools, and oblivious to all else.
That is, until . . .
“Oh, you are awake,”
she heard Barb’s voice, long before her face again came into focus. “Welcome back.”
For a long while, Didi just lie there unblinking, unthinking, and puzzling as
she watched the world going on about her, and she remained in that stupor until
Barb poured a jigger of liquor down her throat.
“There now, much
better,” she said smiling, as she moved back into the foreground, and Speedy,
who was standing behind her, came into view.
On his face he wore
jaunty smirk, and in his hand, a leash.
A dog’s leash that was attached to largest of the gold rings that
pierced through the lips of Didi’s puss.
But there was something
else too. Something she saw beyond him
that riddled her mind beyond her wildest imaginings. A large bay window, through which she had a
panoramic view of the sea of blue, the golden beaches, and the crowds of
sunbathers and the young ‘turistas’ partying the day
long.
“Yes, dear,” Barb said,
upon following her eyes. “When I heard
about Speedy’s generous offer to take you to
“Of course, I could
have done without that charter flight,” she laughed, teasingly punching Speedy
upon the shoulder as she did.
“My goodness, that
pilot was absolutely out of his mine. Skirting
the mountain tops and skimming along the treetops in the valleys below, it was
is if he was trying to duck and weave and hideway
from someone who wanted to stick a firecracker up his ass.”
Didi looked on and
listened, though little seeped through her still fogged mind. In fact, it wasn’t until Barb had mentioned ‘
“What day is it?” Didi managed to asked, as she felt her face as if to see if
she was actually there, or if all this was but a dream.
“Why
it’s Tuesday, of course, you silly girl.
You remember, yesterday I gave you the day off so Javier could pretty
you up. Then shortly after, we hopped
aboard that two seated rum runner with the pilot who was simply mad as a
hatter.”
Of course, Didi hadn’t any recall of that, but as Barb spoke so
matter-of-factly, she couldn’t help but believe it all true. And, with her mind all but a total blank, she
couldn’t help but believe the traveling to
So, she gave up the
worry, and nodded in acknowledgement, and offered a warm smile to both.”
“Quiero
comer (I’m Hungry),” Speedy then cut in.
“Come, we go eat Lobster and shrimp gigante,
and drink mucho Tequila, then Speedy, he take you to see mi hermano,
Tito.”
“Okie
dokie, huh?” he then asked Barb, thought it was
obvious she wasn’t listening. Busy as
she was pulling upon Didi’s newly ringed lips, only
now, with a whole lot of vigor, as if testing their elasticity.”
“Si
(Yes), you nasty puta (whore),” Speedy chuckled. “Kitty’s lips like rubber, they snap like a
band. But do you wish to stay and play,
or go eat?”
“Yes, I’m starved,
let’s go eat,” she said, giving up the play.
But not before giving that leash a final tug. A resounding tug, hard enough to cause Didi to whimper and Speedy to laugh at the depths of
depravity Barb was willing to go.
“Madre
mia! “Tu Patrona es
un cruel bitch!” he chuckled, while shaking his head as if mystified. Not so much by the heartlessness she showed,
but the gloating look he saw on her face.
The kind of look you’d see on the face of a girl who’d just wow a metal
for kicking the kitty at the state fair.
But for all the anguish
it caused Didi, it did, at least, provided her with a
glimpse into the heart of that sadistic, self-serving bitch, Barbie Denny, the
girl she once thought her friend.
Of course, knowing what
truly lie in Barb’s heart wasn’t going to change anything. Nor did it ameliorate the suffering that had
already transpired, or was about to transpire.
As in when, shortly thereafter, Barb ceased the play, dropped the leash,
and left it to dangle down between Didi’s knees, where
it swayed like a pendulum, and chattered-up a ‘clank-clank-clanking’
storm no matter slightly she moved.
Just the sight of it
left to dangle beween her knees, was to Didi even more frightful than seeing it in Barbs
hands. At least in her hands she knew
what was coming. But there was no way to
measure the scorn and the ridicule on the faces of those who looked on, watching
her being treated like a dog.
And worst yet, there
was that Cupid tattoo inked on her panty-less ass. That Cupid with an arrow that pointed to the
brown, puckered ring of her anus, and upon which the word ‘el acierto (Bullseye)’ had been inked.
The whole if it was
beyond a fright, but given that it now rest just millimeters above the hem of
that infinitesimally short skirt Barb had her wear, that bullseye
made her all but an target in the eyes of those who’d want to do the worst to
her.
It was beyond terrifying to be taken outside exposed as she was, though
thankfully, the luxurious restaurant on the beach Speedy had taken them wasn’t
one where she was likely to be seen by many.
Too rich for the young ‘turistas’ she assumed,
as it was one where the lobster was plucked straight from the ocean, and where
the tequia flowed like water.
Then just as promise, after their lunch, he hailed a taxi to take them
to the Zona Rosa.
A district not all that far off the beaten path, where those who were
looking for something a bit different could be found.
And among those places where that something different could be found
was ‘Tito’s Playpen.
“Come, niña, I take you to meet, mi hermano
(brother).”
Tito’s business was located on a side street alley off the calle, Roma
Obviously few to none just accidently
stumbled into a place like this, and it was no less obvious to a rapidly
sobering up, Didi.
Fact of the matter is, the moment she saw the flashing neon signs
pointing to the naked girls in the windows, she tried to pull away.
But with Speedy pulling her along by the leash, and Barb, pushing her foreward from behind, there as no way to stop neither their
entrance, nor their trek though hall of horrors that followed. The girls dancing in the windows, the rooms
where men stood outside in lines, and the victimized girl’s screaming from within.
And the madness reigned throughout, and until they reached Tito’s
office, where she was introduced to a man dressed in a 3 piece vested suit who
was obviously not in the business of selling tacos or burritos. And sitting on the desk before him, an open
attaché case in which the narcotics within were on display!
“Muy bueno (very
good,) Tito,” Speedy said as he stooped down to kiss his hand. Then, in exchange for the case, he handed
over Didi’s leash.
“Now you work hard for, Tito, or he get mad
with you. He treat you mean, maybe he
even leash to a dog and put on stage for men the watch show. So, you work hard, and be
contentido (content) that you get man fleas and not
dog fleas.
“Si, fucky-fucky-fucky
– dinero-dinero-dinero,” Tito chuckled, then getting
back to business, he called to a woman standing at the door. “Isabella, come take her,” he said with a
wave of his hand.
And so she did. Taking hold of the
leash, the woman led her out, and again down the hall to a room at the
end. And it wasn’t until she saw the men
waiting outside that room waving their money about that it all became clear to
her, and started to scream . . .
“AAHHHHHHHHH, AAHHHHHHHHH!”
“Didi, Didi, why
are you screaming, what’s wrong?” Her father said as he rushed through the door
to comfort his visibly distraught daughter.
“Papa, Papa, what a horrible dream!” she cried, her face drenched with
tears.
“Oh, pumpkin, it’s alright,” he said hugging her dearly.
“No, Papa, it scared me something terrible. I don’t want that to happen ever again.”
“Well now,” he replied, straightening back up. “You’re grown up enough
now to know life really doesn’t work that way.
If you have bad thoughts, you’re going to have bad
dreams, that’s just the way it is.”
“The key is to jump into bed thinking only good things, because if you
don’t, the best you can hope for is someone to be there to pick up the pieces
when my Pumpkin comes tumbling down off the wall . .
.”
Das Ende
Hunsi
(The
minister of Erotic Horror :)
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