This work is copyrighted to the author @2020.  Diese Arbeit ist dem Autor urheberrechtlich geschützt © 2020. Please do not remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved by author. codes: M+f+/ SM / humil / viol / caution / anal / nc

 

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 not advocating it.  I may or may not even like it.  It's simply a fantasy, a product of my imagination, and thus, completely fictitious. Peace, brothers.

 

Before you read it, please note the following:

*If you are under eighteen, it is illegal for you to read this story!

*If you have a hard time separating fantasy from reality, do not read this story!

*If it's illegal in your jurisdiction to read non-consensual sex stories, don't read this story!

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Tito's Playpen

In The

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 68th Street.”

 

"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 put 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 6 am that morning, it was Didi who was first in line to board the bus that ran the route between 93rd & 7th in Tribeca, to the transit hub on Bowery Street.

 

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 Bowery Street.  A place so bleak, dark and foreign, she felt a stranger in a very strange land.

 

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 Barb 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 you’ve got your house 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 in the cafeteria, 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 told 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 New York, and by either hook or by crook, ended up owning his own Tattoo parlor.  And not just any tattoo shack, but thanks to his celebrity, though sorted as it was, Tito’s Electric Tattoo-Land was one of the most sought after place to be seen in the city, and where the who’s who wanted to be seen, the money follows.  And it mattered not to them that he spoke a discombobulated mix of Mexican and English that few to none could understand.

 

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 no leche to suckle, only tattoos.”

 

“Maybe me blossom want a tattoo instead, hu?”  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 midday break to share a smoke.

 

“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 Electric Tattoo Land to get tattooed.  After that, all that changed.

 

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!”

 

Cancun!  Esto es mur magnífico (It’s very magnificent), no?   The sea so azul (blue”), Hoteles so grand, and the turistas having such fun.” 

 

“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 Cancun to visit his brother, Tito, I couldn’t resist asking if I could come along.  And, well, presto, here we are!  Isn’t it all so exciting?  I can scarcely believe it myself.”

 

“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 ‘Cancun’ and his brother, ‘Tito,’ that any of it came back to mind.

 

“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 Cancun aboard such a plane was something she had agreed upon as well.

 

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 Sur.  The front entrance, a brightly lit recess in the red brick building feathered an assortment of flashing neon signs that spoke directly to what Tito was selling inside.

 

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-fuckydinero-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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