Message-ID: <59222asstr$1248005406@assm.asstr.org>
From: Leopolt <leopolt2002@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} The House in Cabo {Leopolt}{Caution: See Intro for Story Codes}
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Date: Sun, 19 Jul 2009 08:10:06 -0400
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d







   The House in Cabo

   By Leopolt



   I had decided to go down to the house in Cabo San Lucas for a few days.
It had been a rough period for me and the company, with the turmoil in the
economy and the problems associated with some of our banking interests.  As
soon as I felt I could, I had my personal assistant reserve the jet and
make the necessary arrangements.  I wrapped up the week's work late Friday,
and then spent Saturday playing tennis and packing my briefcase with any
files that could not wait until I returned.  Early Sunday I took a company
car to the private airstrip we used.

   I had bought the house many years ago, back when I was still married and
just starting to make it big as a junior executive.  It was intended as a
vacation home and a place to take friends and business associates we wanted
impress.  Now, two divorces and several promotions later, I was CEO of a
fairly large corporation, and the house in Cabo had become my refuge, a
place I got away to in order to recharge my batteries and let off a little
steam.  There were larger houses in Cabo now, huge palaces on the beach or
up in the hills.  Mine was more modest, maybe 6000 square feet, but there
was still plenty of room for guests or to entertain, and I never seemed to
have any trouble getting people to accept my invitations.  No, although I
could afford a palace now, this villa suited my needs.

   It was a four and a half hour flight from Chicago, and I napped most of
the time.  Shortly before we arrived I raised the window shade and looked
out over the barren desert landscape that gave way to the brilliant blue
waters of the Sea of Cortez.  Cabo San Lucas is at the very tip of the Baja
peninsula, an oasis on a barren landscape rimmed in sugar white sand
beaches.  As we circled the town on the landing approach, I could see our
neighborhood of beachside haciendas, and then suddenly there it was.  My
house - two stories, tan stucco walls and red tile roof, almost hidden by
palm trees.  There was the pool, shaded by the palms, with a guestroom
beside it, the bathroom of which doubles as a mud room for people using the
pool.  On the other side of the house, behind the garage, was a detached
poolhouse with its own kitchenette.  Upstairs there is the master suite
that I used, and two smaller bedrooms, with a den, office, kitchen and
dining area downstairs.  I sound like a real estate agent, but I was really
proud of it.  Often I let guests use it, but this week it I had it all to
myself.  After circling around a bit more and gradually losing altitude, we
landed at the small private airport in Cabo, my driver/bodyguard Carlo and
me.  The company that stores my car had dropped off the Lexus, which Carlo
brought around and loaded with our bags while I chatted with the customs
officials.

   We arrived at the house around lunchtime, and to my surprise my house
keeper Lorena had not only opened up and aired out the house, but had fixed
a wonderful lunch for us.  Fresh grilled fish, rice, salata, and flans for
dessert.  I had skipped breakfast in order to make an early flight (our
pilot and crew had to turn right around and fly back to Houston to pick a
group of vice-presidents returning from a golf trip) and I dug in heartily.


   Lorena was really one of the best reasons for coming down to Cabo. 
There is no replacement for a good housekeeper, someone who takes real
pride in her job.  Frankly I have had so many problems with the company I
use in Chicago that on more than one occasion I had thought of asking
Lorena to move up to "el Norte".  But that would take her away from her
family, and who would take her place when I came down?  Better to have her
here in paradise, looking after my every need, and put up with a little
frustration in the land of wind and snow.

   Not that I never had any trouble from Lorena.  Early on, she was not
very adept at housework, and I had to discipline her on one occasion.  I
only learned after I had hired her that she had been working as a whore
since age fifteen, and only stopped because she was afraid her daughters,
the oldest almost fifteen herself, might follow in her footsteps.  Later
she told me, "I would scrub floors with my bare hands, and clean toilets
with my tongue, before I would see them live that life." I respect that,
and after a year or so of hard work she became a valued employee.

   Still, I have to tell you a little anecdote.  It was maybe five years
ago, right after Lorena started working at the house.  I had only met her
once before, and I had been away for maybe two or two and half months.  I
am guessing she thought she had it pretty cushy - boss is away most of the
time, nothing much to do except brush away the occasional cobweb.  Well, I
get in, head upstairs to the master suite to take a shower, and I have to
use the bathroom - well, you know what I mean, not to be crude but I took a
big dump.  And there was no toilet paper!  What the hell, I thought, what
am I paying a housekeeper for if she cannot keep this place ready to live
in?  "Lorena, get your sorry ass up here!" I yelled, and she came running
up.

   "Why is there no toilet paper?" I looked around the bathroom, "And no
soap either!  Why is there no soap in here?"

   "Se?or, no one was living here.  The soap, it melts if you just leave
it."

   "Does the toilet paper melt, Lorena?"

   "No, se?or."

   "What did you do with the toilet paper?"

   "I took it home, se?or.  If I had known you were coming today, I would
have made everything good." Her eyes were downcast, and I am guessing she
expected to be fired.  "Well, Lorena," I said, "I need to able to depend on
you.  I might come down here at any time, or I may have guests show up
unannounced.  Every room needs to be ready.  That is part of what I am
paying you for."

   "Si, se?or."

   We just stood there for a long time, me dressed only in my bathroom, her
in her maid's apron over her gray polyester dress.  "I think I need to
teach you a lesson, so you don't forget.  " I pulled a washcloth out of a
drawer and threw it at her.  "I need you clean me up, Lorena.  Do you
understand?" "Si, se?or." I dropped my robe and turned around.  After
running some warm water on the cloth she started washing me.  Twice she
rinsed out the rag and the third time she started wiping my ass, I grabbed
her other hand and guided it to my cock.  She slowly started jacking my
growing hard-on until, after a few moments, I told her I was going to fuck
her mouth.

   As I turned around she kneeled on the floor and was sitting back on her
heels, her mouth slightly opened, waiting dutifully to be fed my cock.  I
thrust in her mouth, weaving my hands through her jet black hair and
holding her head while I facefucked her.  Steadily I kept up the rhythm,
fucking her mouth as she kneeled submissively on the rug.  As I felt the
cum building up to spew I pressed her face against my belly, grinding her
nose in my public bone.  It had been a few days since my last fuck, so it
did not take long to come in her throat.  She swallowed and caught her
breath as I pulled out, her eyes downcast.  She must have felt like a
trapped animal, unable to escape being a whore.

   "I don't want this to happen again.  Go get some money from Carlo, go to
the store, and get whatever you need to make this place inhabitable. 
Comprende inhabitable?  So I can live here."

   "Si, se?or." She got up, straightened her dress, and went back
downstairs.  A few minutes later I heard the door.  I really wondered if
she would come back at all, but by the time I had finished dressing and was
reading through some email at my desk, I saw her come in with two full
grocery bags, a plastic bag full of toilet paper rolls peeking out of one
of them, and she headed upstairs to the bedrooms to start restocking.  I
figured since she came back, she would probably turn out to be an excellent
employee, or at least a loyal one.  In fact, she has been excellent.  And
while I could probably enjoy myself with her sexually anytime I wanted, in
fact I laid off of her after that.  She deserved to be given the chance to
leave her whoring days behind her, and besides, I really had no need for
her in that regard.

   In fact Lorena had come to me through a business associate named Louis
de Valais, a local pimp and brothel owner (among other things) who had
probably run Lorena back when she was still in the game.  Louis is an
interesting character.  His family is Swiss-French, and apparently Grandpa
de Valais moved to Mexico in the 1920's to try to start a winery.  While
that never took off, importing illegal booze to the Prohibition-era U.S. 
did, and while the de Valais family never developed the money or clout of
old Joe Kennedy, they become relatively well off.  By the time Papa de
Valais started running the family import/export business in the 1960's, the
business model had trended more to South American coca products.  This
eventually proved their undoing - a crackdown in the 1980's put Louis's
older brother in jail in the U.S., and most of the family went back to
France.  Louis stayed in Baja, and used his contacts to start trading in
humans, recruiting women on the border or in central Mexico or even farther
south in Guatemala, and bringing them out to service the growing tourist
trade.  I know he has worked with the "coyotes", trafficking Mexican
illegals across the border.  He even has been a transit facilitator for
Asians looking to get into the U.S.

   Louis ran a lucrative trade in Cabo San Lucas.  His brothel itself was
not much, a renovated warehouse with some office dividers setup to provide
sleeping quarters for the girls, and a few cramped rooms with little more
than a bed for the clients to use.  He normally never kept more than dozen
or so girls there, mostly the low rent types that tended to service the
Federales and the local cops, along with the more obnoxious of the
springbreak crowd.  His forte' was keeping a stable of very nice young
ladies, most of whom lived at home in the surrounding towns and villages,
that he contracted out for parties.  During the height of the tourist
season he would rent a bus to collect them mid-week and take them back
Sunday mornings in time for Mass.

   I phoned Louis the day after I arrived in Cabo.  "Hey old buddy, I want
you to setup some recreation for me," I told him, "Let's organize a little
party over here."

   "Sure, leave it all to me.  Things are kind of slow around here -" the
swine flu and the drug cartel violence had put a damper on a normally very
busy time of year for Louis "- I got a lot of girls who could use some
extra work."

   "Well, you make those arrangements, but send out some invitations on my
behalf.  I need to renew contacts with some of the officials around here.
Make sure that fat brother-in-law of yours shows up." Louis had married the
sister of a local cop several years ago.  Now, his wife was dead, some kind
of cancer, and the brother, Raul, was the chief of police.  Blood is
thinker than water, but a wad of dollars is thicker still.  I tried to keep
Raul happy, along with a long list of local politicians and business types,
as part of my interest as one of Louis's bankrollers.  I expected most
would drop by the house for the party.

   "OK, so Wednesday night, open bar, lots of good looking girls, maybe get
a band to play.  Cost is no object.  And Louis"

   "Yes, patron" I liked how he called me patron - it sort of cemented the
fact that Louis owed me a lot, not just monetarily, and I was the boss in
this relationship.

   "I might want to have a round later in the week with one of your stable
girls.  I have a lot of excess energy to work off.  You follow me?"

   Louis was silent for a second.  He was aware of how my tastes ran. 
"Sure, patron, I can set that up.  Maybe Friday, before things get busy?"

   "I'll let you know when, Louis.  For now, just make the party plans." I
hung up and took out my briefcase.  I needed to setup office and try to
work through a couple of contracts and business plans, or I would not be
able to let myself play later.

   By Wednesday afternoon the house was crazy.  Caterers were arriving with
food, technicians were setting up lights and sound equipment, Lorena had
brought in her two daughters to help with the party preparations, and to
clean up afterwards.  This seemed like the opposite of a vacation to me, so
I had Carlo pull up the BMW convertible I kept at the house and I went for
a drive along the beach.  I followed the coast road almost to Magrina, then
turned off into the foothills.  I wound my way through the low, sun parched
hills overlooking the coast, until the roads became unpaved.  I stopped for
a while on a rise overlooking the Pacific, opened a bottle of beer I had
brought and enjoyed the quiet.  It was a really beautiful view, the Pacific
shining an unbelievable shade of blue in the distance; it reminded me of
why Jill and I had first decided to invest down here, before the big real
estate explosion.  Now, Cabo was getting too developed for me.  There were
times I thought about selling the house, and maybe after the current real
estate slump I would.  But sitting there on the trunk of the Beamer,
sipping my beer, I really felt there was nowhere else in the world I would
rather be.

   I was fashionably late getting back, the sun was starting to set, the
first guests had already arrived, and I could hear the throb of dance music
from the pool area as I was pulling into the long secluded driveway.  By
the time I parked and walked back around to the front of the house, a crowd
of folks were making their way toward the house.  It was mostly men, but a
few were accompanied by attractive women, more likely mistresses than
wives. They were dressed well, in casual but expensive clothes.  I almost
turned around and left, the thought of having to play the gracious host to
half the local oligarchy suddenly not seeming a particularly attractive
prospect to me.

   Still, I walked in with a couple of local bankers and their dates,
chatting about which economy was worse, Mexico's or the United States'.  I
navigated through the growing crowd in the den, chatting with guests,
sharing a joke with one local official or another, working my way back to
the kitchen.  Lorena and her girls were there, along with a couple of
caterers I recognized even if I did not recall their names.  Food was being
piled on serving trays.  Through the windows I looked out at the patio,
filling with men in tropical shirts and plantation trousers and girls in
skimpy bikinis.  Dancing on the diving board was a beautiful, dark-skinned
girl, almost black, in a green thong bikini.  I asked Lorena how things
were going.

   "These people, why don't they eat at their own homes, heh?  They come
here and eat all your food like they have never eaten before in their
lives." She wiped back a lank of dark hair from her eyes, and I could see
she had already worked up a sweat.  "You are really too nice to them,
se?or. I would not let half of them in the place where I keep the
chickens."

   I laughed.  "It is the price of doing business down here.  Don't worry,
though.  I will pay you and your girls double for tonight."

   "No, se?or, you no have to do that.  The girls, they need the
experience. I show them how to feed a crowd of dogs like these, maybe they
can work in a hotel someday."

   Still chuckling at Lorena's protectiveness, I picked up a beer at the
bar and walked out to the patio.  It was barely dark, the party was just
getting started, but over to my left I saw that Raul had arrived and
decided to start turning things up a notch.  He was ensconced in a cedar
deck chair, body guards on either sides, and a girl with chestnut skin and
hair dyed bright red was busily bobbing her head on his fat cock.

   "Hey, great party, huh?  You really know how to throw them.  My little
brother Louis, he's got some good girls, huh?" he jeered, nodding his head
to the party favor that was slurping his meatstick.  "You know what, I
brought a house gift, just to make you feel at home." He waved to one his
men by the pool bar, who brought over a bag.  Inside was enough cocaine to
kill a couple of horses.  Raul called to the dark girl on the diving board,
whose name was apparently Rosita.  He positioned her in front of him, ass
to towards him, her legs on either side of his patient cocksucker.  He bent
her over slightly so her ass pushed out, pulled down her thong, and spread
a line of coke across her ass.  He pulled a silver tube from a shirt pocket
and snorted up as much of the coke as he could, then greedily slobbered up
the rest, licking it off the girl's ample rear.  "Hey, you should try some.
This is the only way to snort coke!"

   "Maybe later," I said, trying to at least act pleasant.  "They say the
cops always have the best drugs." I walked off, trying to hide my
revulsion. Past the pool a couple of Louis's girls came up to me.  I had
seen them before, at parties, and one of them I had fucked a couple of
times.  Both were almost too cute for their profession.  The one that I had
had before was skinny, with tiny pert tits.  Her dark straight hair was
parted in the middle and she was ever so slightly cross-eyed.  She barely
had on anything you could call a bathing suit, some strings and a thin
strip of green cloth that hung below her wonderful cut abs in the gap
between her thin thighs, and a few more green strips that covered her
nipples.  It was all I could do to keep from raping her the moment I saw
her.  Her friend was a fake blonde, with big wavy hair.  She was a little
bit chubbier but not fat, and had some really nice large tits that barely
squeezed into her red one-piece bathing suit, tan legs that ended in high
heels that put her almost head to head with her taller, barefoot companion.
They sidled up beside me, the skinny girl - I think her name was Valanie or
something that - took my beer and drank a sip.  "What's your friend's
name?"

   "Roberta."

   "She speak good English like you?" I asked.  Valanie giggled.  "No, she
only speak Espanish" I put an arm around Roberta and gave her a kiss.  "You
want a beer?  Cerveca?" She shook her head.  I pulled Valanie over as well.
"Give me a sip," I told her, and she held up the bottle so I could take a
drink.  Holding these two pieces of fuckmeat was starting to make me feel
like my party was about to move inside.

   I leaned over and gave Valanie a long deep kiss, running my tongue
around her willing mouth.  Roberta started squeezing my ass, and I grabbed
the bottom of her one-piece and pulled it tight between against her cunt.
"Valanie, you know where the big bedroom is?  Upstairs"

   "Si."

   "You two go up there and make yourselves at home.  Get something to
drink first wine, tequila, whatever you want.  I'll be up in a little
while." I let go of the two of them, with a couple of open-hand slaps on
their asses as they headed off.  They giggled and ran into the house.

   Before I could have my recreation, I needed to do some business first. I
found Louis at the bar, a glass of wine in his hand.  "Look, I have some
things I need to discuss with you.  You know that last loan I made to you?"
Louis nodded, looking embarrassed.  Last summer I had loaned him nearly one
hundred grand to start a party boat business, and it was not the first line
of credit I had extended to him.  By now I was a silent partner in most of
his ventures.  "Well, I am not calling it in, not yet.  You keep up the
payments and I appreciate that.  But I am a little concerned about the
profit numbers from our little venture.  Friday when I come to visit your
establishment on the hill, I want to see the books on your party boats.  I
need to start seeing some return."

   Louis nodded.  "Whatever you say.  My books are always open to you. 
Come by Friday at lunch, I will some have food ready for you.  Good stuff,
real French shit - best in town.  Hey, you hungry now?  I got the best
caterers around tonight, come on I'll show you what they brought."

   I could appreciate Louis's embarrassment and his attempt to change the
subject.  I decided to drop the subject for now, as we would have plenty of
time to talk on Friday.  "Not right now, my friend.  I am going to go
upstairs and take a bite out of a couple of your girls."

   Louis looked a little worried, so I reassured him.  "I don't mean that
literally.  Not tonight anyway.  " I grabbed another beer, and headed to
the stairs.

   I was ambushed on the way up by a number of locals who had business
proposition to float by me, or wanted to show off some new acquisition or,
god help me, just so they could practice their English.  By the time I made
it upstairs, my little birds were sitting on the floor by the bed, cross
legged, giggling to each other and passing a half empty tequila bottle back
and forth.  They covered their mouths and Roberta whispered something to
her friend as I came in.

   "You girls miss me?" I asked.  "Si, se?or," Valanie replied, and Roberta
quickly echoed, "Si, se?or." Quick on the uptake, that girl, mind like a
steel trap I'm sure.  I took a swig from their bottle and set it on the
nightstand.  Tenderly I stroked Valanie's long black hair.  "You remember
the last time we fucked?" I had to repeat the question; her English was not
as good as she made out.

   "Si, remember.  You and me."

   "What did I do to you?" She looked confused.  "Where did I fuck you?" I
rolled up the fingers of my left hand, and made a fucking motion with the
fingers of my other hand.  She brightened up.

   "Si, yes, you put you hand in me like that!" Ah, she looked so proud of
herself for remembering.  She smiled, and I bent over and gave her a kiss.
"What else?  Did I fuck your ass?"

   "Si, you fuck me ass."

   "Did I hit you?" I gave her a little slap, and her smile faded.  "Not so
bad," she said, "Maybe just a little." Not the way I remembered it.  I have
a rather vivid memory of sitting astraddle her face and slapping the shit
out of her pussy.  Maybe she was just trying to be polite.



   Roberta must have been feeling left out.  She began stroking my leg,
running her hands up and down my trousers.  She leaned over and started
mouthing my cock through my pants.  I reached down squeezed her tits hard,
and she let out a moan.

   Stepping back, I told Valanie I wanted a show.  "Take off each other's
clothes," and with some hand motions she got the idea.  I sat in a lounge
chair across the room and finished off the last of my beer.  Valanie
started kissing Roberta, the two of them on their knees, and she whispered
something to her.  Roberta untied the top of Valanie's bikini and let it
drop, while the two of them kissed long and hard, mouths open.  Valanie
pulled the red swimsuit down until it was bunched on the ground at
Roberta's knees, and cupping one of her friend's ample tits she began to
lick and kiss it.  The blonde whore lolled her head back in either real or
feigned pleasure, stroking Valanie's black hair as her mouth passed from
one large brown nipple to the other.

   My skinny angel got up and sat on the bed, and Roberta finished her job
by pulling the bottom of the bikini off.  Valanie was shaved, and she
spread her skinny legs apart so her companion could get a good look at her
moist red cunt.  Roberta wasted no time in running a tongue along her
vagina lips, flicking at her clit before lapping again at her cunt.  I felt
it was almost time to get involved in the show, but for now I resisted.  I
stretched out a leg and pulled Roberta's suit the rest of the way off and
kicked it to the side.  But after a while I could not resist getting up to
take a nibble at Valanie's hard little nipples as she getting her pussy
eaten.

   "OK, you girls are having too much fun.  Come take my clothes off." I
sat back down, and my girls knelt in front of the chair and started with my
shoes and socks.  I lifted up my feet almost to their mouths, and they
swirled their tongues over my feet and sucked my toes for a while.

   When you have two whores servicing you, there is always going to be a
bit of competition between them, particularly if they think an extra tip
might be involved.  Roberta decided to take the lead, sliding up to kiss
me. I leaned back and sucked on her tongue, nibbling on her lips, while she
unbuttoned my shirt.  My sweet Valanie was left with the lower half,
working off my belt and unbuckling my pants.  I lifted off the chair a
little, never breaking the kiss, to allow her to slip off my pants.  As
soon as they were off, she began vigorously sucking my cock.

   I pushed Roberta off of me as I stood up, and she fell back on the bed,
spreading her legs and rubbing her tits.  Her pussy was trimmed, not
shaved, and someone had not explained to her about having the carpet match
the drapes.  Still, a cunt is a cunt.  I grabbed Valanie's head and jacked
it back and forth on my cock for a while, before telling her to join her
friend on the bed.  I had the two whores roll over and get up on all fours.
I took turns fucking them, one cunt then the other, sliding my cock up
their red tunnels until they were both sopping wet.  Then I started
fingering the one I was not fucking at the time, sliding more and more
fingers in the nasty sluts until I could nearly get a fist in, which is
when I pulled out - I think I was was in Valanie's cunt at the time, half
of my hand up Roberta's nasty twat.

   "Stay right there - don't move!" I went into the bathroom and found a
bottle of KY lotion.  I lubed up my hands and started in on both of them, a
pair of meat puppets.  Soon I was fisting both cunts, listening to their
growing moans and occasional yelps as they accommodated my treatment.  "I
bet you remember this, cunt!"

   "Si!  Si!" There were real tears on Valanie's face, and both were
sweating heavily.  So was I, for that matter.  I decided to change it up a
bit, and l slid first one, then two fingers in their asses.  I was able to
get three fingers in both their asses, but Valanie was just too tight for
four.  I let up on her and concentrated on Roberta.  She took most of my
hand easily, after enough lube and a little force.  Valanie slid down on
the floor and began jacking my cock as I continued fisting her friend's
ass. I turned a bit so she could suck me, and made one last attempt to get
my balled up fist in Roberta's now loose asshole.  It was hard, but I
managed.  She let out a yell as it slipped past the ring of her sphincter,
but I leaned forward and grabbed a fist of blonde hair with my free hand,
crushing Valanie's head against the bed as I did so.  "Shut the fuck up and
take it, bitch!" I snarled.  I thrust into Valanie's mouth in counterpoint
to the rhythm of my fist pistoning in and out of Roberta's ass.

   I was getting too close to coming, and I wanted to try something else
before we finished.  I pulled out of both girls, motioned for Valanie to
get on the bed, and stepped into the bathroom for a towel to wipe off my
hands.  When I came back I pulled Roberta roughly to the floor and fucked
her mouth a couple of times.  I sat on the bed, positioning Roberta between
my legs and sliding up until my ass was at the edge of the mattress.  I lay
back and pulled up my legs.  Roberta leaned in and began tonguing my ass
just as I expected her to.  I pulled Valanie over on top of me in a 69.  I
nibbled her cunt lips, biting them hard every now and then, while she
sucked my cock and her friend tongue fucked my asshole.  I do not know if I
came two minutes or two hours later - it was heaven either way.  I shot a
load in my skinny girl's mouth, my sphincter pulsing against the blonde's
tongue.  Valanie sat up and I pulled Roberta up with us.  The two girls
kissed, trading the last of my come, and then we lay down together.

   My bliss was not to last.  No sooner had both girls snuggled up beside
me to take a nap than I heard Carlo outside.

   "We may have a problem downstairs, boss" he said through the door.

   "I pay you take care of problems, Carlo.  You are a professional problem
solver and I appreciate your professionalism."

   "Above my paygrade.  It's Raul."

   Oh shit, what has this asshole started now, I thought.  I sighed and got
out of bed, and pulled on slacks, shirt, and sockless loafers.  I left my
two lovebirds to themselves.  They rolled over and embraced as I left.

   In the kitchen Lorena was being held by Raul's bodyguards, and a torrent
of Spanish abuse was pouring out of her.  On the other side of the
breakfast counter, Raul had Lorena's oldest daughter pinned against the
oven, a hand clearly groping under her skirt.  Her eyes and mouth were
scrunched up shut, as she tried to turn away from his unwanted advances. 
Lorena's younger daughter was nowhere to be seen.

   "What's up Raul?" I grabbed some peanuts from the counter and popped a
couple in my mouth."Did your brother-in-law run out of whores?"

   "Jes enoying your party.  This little whore is going come outside and
have fun with me."

   "Don't think so.  Kitchen staff are off limits.  Someone has to clean up
this mess."

   "Kitchen staff?" He spit on the floor, looking at Lorena.  "Have this
puta tell you how I used to fuck her ass in the jail cells when she could
not make bail.  Kitchen staff - Ha!"

   I munched on a couple more peanuts and strolled casually over by Raul.
"Don't spit on my floor, OK?" I leaned in close, so only he and the girl
could hear me.  "Now, I know you don't want to look bad in front of your
men, so I am not going make you get down there and wipe that spit up.  But
if you don't leave this girl and her family alone, I will see to it that
you disappear tonight and no one will ever even try to find your fat
corpse. The crabs will be having you for breakfast, everybody in this house
will know it, and no one will say a fucking word about it." I popped the
last peanut and walked back to where Carlo was standing.

   "Where's Lorena's other girl?"

   "I locked her in a guest bedroom." Carlo was packing, he was always
packing, in the shower he probably had a webbed shoulder holster.  His eyes
were riveted on Raul, but I knew he had the two bodyguards well within his
central field of view.

   Raul gave the girl one more slobbering kiss, then called to his men. 
"Let that puta go.  This party is getting boring." He said something else
in Spanish, and walked out to the patio.  He grabbed Rosita, the dark
skinned girl, by the hair and bent her back almost double, biting down hard
on one of her tits.  He pushed her in the pool and then headed toward the
driveway.  Probably off to take his frustrations out on some hapless drunks
or junkies.

   Lorena was consoling her daughter, and I told Carlo to let the other one
out, things were probably back to normal.  I would need to talk to Louis
about this.  Raul was a sack of shit, but I was not the only one who paid
into his retirement account.  He was pretty tight with the Michoacan
cartels who trans-shipped through Cabo, and that was a group I did not want
to get on the wrong side of.  I would need to get Louis to get the lay of
the land, see if maybe some of his business associates would be interested
in finding a replacement in the Cabo San Lucas police administration.  At
the same time, I could try to patch things up with Raul, do something to
show my "respect".  It is always good business practice to keep multiple
alternatives open until the last minute.

   The party was breaking up.  I walked some of the guests out to their
cars.  People seemed to have enjoyed themselves.  The DJ was starting to
take down his sound equipment, and in the sudden quiet I could hear that
there were still some people making use of the guest rooms.  I walked past
the bedroom that opened onto the pool area.  There was a full scale
gangbang going on, five or six men who worked for the tourism board had
piled onto a couple of girls on the bed.  I laughed and left them to have
their fun.  Back in the kitchen, Lorena and her girls had regained their
composure and were loading dishwashers and bagging up trash.  She smiled at
me, and I was struck by what a good looking women she was.  She must be,
what, 37?  38?  Her black hair had streaks of gray in it, and there were
the beginnings of smile lines at the corners of her mouth and eyes.  But
she still had a great figure, ample breasts and hips, nice legs when she
showed them.  Her hands were starting to show the signs of wear from
domestic work - I needed to remind her about using gloves.  No, she was not
glamorous, but she had been good looking, and good genes last a lot longer
than good makeup.

   I went upstairs, both tired and perturbed.  I would not have minded
having a second round with Valanie and Roberta before I hit the sack, but
alas, when I got to the master bedroom, my little birds had flown the coop.




   --/--/-

   I wanted to sleep in.  I must have woke around 6:00, rolled over and
went back to sleep.  With a jerk I suddenly woke back up - someone was in
the bed with me!  Whoever it was, had snuck under the sheets, gently pushed
me back down when I tried to get p.  She started working on my morning
wood, expertly stroking and kissing my cock.  One of Louis's girls, maybe
one of the gangbang girls, who had decided to hide out until morning so she
could ingratiate herself with the patron.  Oh well, I can think of worse
ways to wake up, with the sun shining through the windows, the birds
singing, and a warm mouth on my cock.  Still, I needed to piss, and I told
my secret fellatrix so.

   "Si, ok.  I can take it."

   It was Lorena!  I pulled back the sheet and she smiled at me, then
kissed my cock.

   "What do you think you are doing?" I asked.  The answer was obvious of
course, but I really could not think of anything else to say.

   "I am thanking you," she said.  Instantly I knew what she was talking
about.  She was grateful that I intervened last night on her daughter's
behalf, and what kind of thank you gift can a poor Mexican housecleaner
give to her rich American employer?  She can give her body, of course,
which was something Lorena had experience giving away for much less
important reasons.

   She had left her clothes somewhere else before sneaking into my bed. 
She sucked my cock, deeply and lovingly, then started to straddle me.  I
stopped her quickly.

   "I was serious about needing to pee," I warned her.

   "OK" She smiled wickedly at me.  "Come with me." She pulled me up and
took me by the hand into the bathroom.  She got into the shower and knelt.
If she wanted me to this I would, but it was not my choice.  I had pissed
on girls before, but usually not one I cared anything about.  I shut my
eyes and let loose my stream, not easy with my hard-on.  She took my cock
and guided the stream of piss over her tits and face, swallowing some and
then bathing in the rest.  When I finished I turned on the shower.  The
water was cold at first and Lorena jumped up, I grabbed her and hugged her,
and we both laughed.  Tenderly I soaped her off, spending extra time on her
tits and ass and legs.  She then returned the favor, carefully washing me
off everywhere.  I must have had the cleanest cock and ass in Cabo by the
time we were finished.

   We toweled off, Lorena wrapping her hair in a towel.  While I shaved she
dried her hair and brushed it out, then went in the bedroom and waited for
me.  She was stretched out on the bed, eyes closed, slowly caressing
herself.  I climbed on top of her and kissed her, she wrapped her arms
around me as I eased myself into her.  We made love, slowly and intensely.
I really do not think I had made love to a woman in years.  Oh, I had
fucked a lot, dozens maybe even hundreds.  But to really make love to a
woman, to care about her feeling as much as my own, was something I had
nearly forgotten.  We moved in concert, we danced that most ancient of
dances, first with me on top, then rolling over with her on top.  She
braced her hands on my stomach, concentrating on every thrust, rising and
falling while I massaged her clit with my thumb, her passion rising and
rising.  She came, beautifully, her face a masterpiece of ecstasy.  Then it
was my turn.  I pulled her down into my arms as I pumped harder, faster,
more and more, while she held me close and whispered "te amo, te amo" over
and over.

   When we had finished and we had lay together a while, and I was
stretched out half dozing, she got up and headed for the door.  I guess her
clothes were outside.  I called to her, "Lorena."

   "Si, se?or."

   "Lorena, you are not a whore"

   She smiled at me.  "Si, se?or.  I know." She walked out.  I saw her
later that morning in the kitchen, working on lunch for me and Carlo.  She
barely looked up as I walked through and grabbed a beer from the
refrigerator.  Needing to get a little more work in, I packed up some
things - Blackberry, reports, alas reading glasses - in a beach bag and
went down to the beach for a while.  Carlo reminded me that I had a tennis
date that afternoon at one of the clubs, an invitation from one of the
guests last night, an assistant to the mayor.  I nodded and headed down to
setup my little cubby hole on the beach.  There were a few large beach
umbrellas and chairs down there already.  I opened an umbrella and turned
it to the sun, spread a towel on the chair and put it back into a
comfortable reclining position, then read through some email on my
Blackberry.  After going through my inbox and replying to the most urgent
messages, I pulled out a financial report and start slowly wading through
it.  At some point I must have dozed off, because Carlo came down and shook
my shoulder, telling me lunch had been ready for hour.  We went back to
house, I had lunch, then asked Carlo to pull one of the cars around for me
while changed into some tennis clothes.

   "I'll drive you boss," he said.

   "Nah, that's OK.  I don't want to make you wait around in the hot sun
while I lose straight sets to this guy."

   "It's no problem.  After last night" he glanced over at Lorena, who was
washing up after lunch, "It might be better if I went along." Part of
having a bodyguard is giving in to their instincts, and in the worst case
scenario he could be right.  While he drove me to the tennis club I phoned
Louis, and asked if he had heard from his brother-in-law.

   "Not directly, but from what I hear he is pretty mad at you.  You and
your housekeeper.  I don't think I would walk around downtown after dark by
yourself, least not until things cool down a bit."

   "That so.  Hey, Louis, I got an idea.  You have time this afternoon to
do me favor?"

   "Sure, anything, what's up?"

   "I want you to send a gift basket to Raul, from me.  Little token of my
esteem."

   Louis laughed.  "You serious?  Like what you send to someone when they
are sick?"

   "Not exactly.  Yeah, seriously go down to a gift shop and get a nice
basket with fruit and shit in it.  Find one of your girls, the nicest,
classiest one you have, have her dress up like a model.  Carlo will run an
envelope over to you.  I want it to be addressed in big letters to Raul,
the Honorable Chief of Police, Cabo San Lucas, Federal Republic of Mexico.
English and Spanish, front and back.  You following me?  Girl walks down to
police headquarters, make a big show of the present and who it is from,
lot's respect for our fat fucking pig."

   "Yeah, I see what you mean.  I think I can get that done for you.  He
usually leaves about 6:00 or so, goes home to eat with his family.  We have
to do this fairly quick."

   "I know.  I'm almost at the tennis club.  Carlo will drop me off and run
over to your place in about an hour, after he does some errands.  You going
to be at your warehouse?"

   "Yeah, tell him to come round to the office." Louis hung up.  I asked
Carlo how much money we could scratch up.

   "Not a lot, boss, Few grand without getting a wire transfer.  Hey!  I
have an idea."

   "Well, tell me."

   Carlo smiled, an unusual feat for a man with a stonier expression than
the guys on Mt.  Rushmore.  "About half of that bag of coke Raul brought
last night is still at the house.  I'll make some calls, dump it.  I doubt
I'll get top price, but it should be worth close to ten grand."

   I loved it!  "Perfect!  Get what you can, top it off with whatever we
have at the house.  Ten grand should make the asshole a little happier." He
had never paid for the coke in the first place, of course.  It simply
disappeared from the evidence room, the result of one of the cursory drug
busts that were carried from time to time to keep the American DEA happy.

   My tennis partner was ten years younger than me, played nearly every
day, and was competitive in his college days.  By contrast I am a weekend
player in what could be charitably called middle age, and while I try to
stay in good shape, my biggest concern was not winning or losing but simply
prolonging my defeat long enough for Carlo to run his errands.  Still, I
enjoyed myself as much as I could, he was a gracious winner, and by the
second set I was even winning the occasional game.  Down 5-2 in the third
set, I actually broke his serve, and jumped to a 30-0 lead on service
before double faulting.  We played several long exchanges, serve and
volley, he went to advantage three times before I finally gave up the
ghost. Exhausted, we went in to the bar for mineral water and margaritas.

   "You played well my friend." I demurred, but he continued.  "You strike
me as someone with a lot of determination.  You do not give up easily and I
admire that.  You know," he said, as he stirred his drink, "You have placed
a certain bet, an insurance policy if you like, on certain facts remaining
the same in Cabo San Lucas.  I am concerned that these facts may change in
the coming months, and as your friend I feel I should warn of this."

   Wow, I was impressed.  The normal operating procedure was to not give a
shit about anyone who was not a blood relative on your payroll.  Still, I
was not exactly sure what he was driving at.  "Are you concerned that these
insurance policies were placed with someone who will not be able to pay out
if times turn bad?"

   "Let me be frank with you.  This is the correct word, right - frank? 
Many who have invested in Baja have done so understanding that there will
always be a certain level of corruption.  Not all of us are happy with
this, and we feel that the future lies in cleaning up this reputation.  Now
we want people like you to keep investing in our town, of course.  And I
think, from some things I have heard, that perhaps you would not be so sad
to see certain elements no longer have their current jobs.  Am I correct in
this?"

   I nodded.  Maybe he saw what happened with Raul last night, or maybe
word just got around quick, which I knew it did in a town like this.  "Is
there some way that you want me to help in this community improvement you
are talking about?"

   "Not at the moment.  At the moment just enjoy our beautiful city and
leave these other things to us.  I will let you know if there is anything
that would concern you.  You are my friend, no?" He smiled broadly, but I
wondered at his sincerity.  Still, he thought it important enough to give
me this heads up, so I felt I could trust him to certain extent.  I decided
to try to draw him out a little further.  "Let me ask you something.  This
person who we both may wish were not in his present job, do the Federales
have him under surveillance?"

   He held up his hands as if to fend off the question.  "Of course, this
is something I could not possibly talk about."

   "Of course, of course.  Let me ask you different question: What if I
suggested that the Federales should watch this person, in particular that
they should perhaps talk to him, look in his car, at some point." I was
starting to formulate an idea, but it was not crystallized yet.  Still, I
would need this official on my side.

   "I would view it as my responsibility to always pass on such information
to the Federal police." Ah, good, we had an understanding.

   Carlo came in, and I said my good-byes.  As we walked out to the car,
Carlo told me he had taken care of everything.  Apparently he had gotten a
good price for Raul's coke, and only had to take a little over a grand out
of the house safe.  We drove back to the house, and found that Lorena had
left for the day.  This was a little unusual, she usually waits to make
sure I did not want her to make dinner or if I was having guests for the
evening, but I guess after this morning she may have felt a little
embarrassed.  I could let her have a couple of extra hours off, and there
were plenty of leftovers in the refrigerator or I could go to a restaurant
(if Carlo let me).

   I opened a bottle of wine and took it and a glass in to the den to watch
a few minutes of CNN International.  It was during my second glass that I
heard the phone ring.  Carlo got it, and came into the den.  "It's Lorena,
boss.  You may want to talk to her."

   My stomach sank.  Lorena never called the house, and I was not even sure
she had a phone.  "Hello, Lorena.  What's wrong?"

   "Two policemen, they pick up Inez this afternoon.  They said she was
soliciting." Inez was the younger daughter.  "I went down and they let her
go with a warning but she say she was just walking from school and these
two policemen they started whistling and calling her names and she try to
run but turn on the...  the lights you know and the sounds...what you call
it...and they put her in the police car..." She was talking so fast her
English was failing.  I shushed her.  "Lorena, Lorena, it's OK.  Look - I
will send Carlo around; you pack up some clothes for you and the girls and
come stay in the guesthouse by the pool for a couple of nights."

   She sounded like she was crying.  "OK.  I so sorry to...  to do this.  I
will pay you back, I promise se?or."

   "Lorena, there is nothing to payback.  You and the girls just come stay
at the house a few nights.  I am sure by Monday everything will be back to
normal, at the very latest." I think I was able to calm her down; I talked
to her about Inez and then tried to change the subject, noticing that Carlo
had already left while we were talking.  I told her to be patient and wait
a few minutes for Carlo, stay in the house and keep the girls inside.  The
older daughter, Gloria, had just come home from her part-time job at a
market, and was threatening to go back out soon with friends.



   I was still on the phone with her when Carlo arrived.  Relieved, I let
her hang up, and as I went back to the couch and poured another glass of
wine, I realized there was a lot I did not know about Lorena.  Not just
things like whether she had a phone or where she lived (I had ridden in the
car one time when Carlo dropped her off, but I could not recall precisely
where she lived), but important things like whether she had a man in her
life, or whether she had other family in Cabo, or even where she was from
originally.

   A strange notion started forming in my head: If I ever decided to get
married again, I should marry Lorena.  Who cares if she had been a whore
once - she was a better woman than most of the wives I had to interact with
at the Lake Forest Country Club.  Who said I even had to tell anyone where
I met her?  She could just be a Mexican matron I had met at party or
reception in Cabo, or even another town, even Mexico City.  People knew I
had a lot of business dealing down here.  We could get married down here, a
little private ceremony on the beach, her daughters as maids of honor. 
Then I would take them all back to the house in Lake Forest, they would
have their own housekeepers for a change, and I would fuck Lorena like a
rabbit till we both grew too old.  What a happy family we would make - me,
Lorena, her daughters....

   The sound of a car in the garage broke my revelry.  I walked out and
checked on them, Lorena thanked me over and over.  I think maybe she wanted
to give me a hug, but thought it unprofessional in front of Carlo and the
girls.  Or maybe it was me who wanted to give her a hug, to reassure her
that I would make things alright.



   --/--/-

   It was Friday morning, the day I was going to sit with Louis to go over
his accounts on our joint ventures.  I was a bit surprised when I called
me, early that morning.

   "You still planning on coming by today, patron?"

   "Of course, Louis.  You not trying to get out of an audit, are you?  You
are starting to act more like a banker every day." I laughed, but Louis was
in a serious mood.  "No, that's not it.  Come down, only maybe as early as
you can.  We still have some problems, I think."

   I hung up from Louis, and as I got ready to leave I grew more and more
furious.  Is this why I came down to Cabo, to get mixed up in penny ante
bullshit with a bunch petty criminals and corrupt police?  Why did I do it?
I should get a plane and fly back to Chicago today.  I had problems enough
there, real problems with millions, even billions, of dollars on the line.
Did I want to do this crap, did it distract me somehow?  Why do I do this?
By the time I got to Louis's warehouse I was in bad mood.  "OK, Louis,
what's up?"

   "I did like you wanted, patron.  I sent a girl, beautiful, tall, best
dress we could find for her.  She brought the package with the envelope,
asked to see Raul, told him in a loud voice that this was a gift from you
as a token of your respect.  Everything seemed fine.  Then Raul asked if
the girl was part of the gift as well.  She said she could be if he wanted
her."

   "Fine with me.  She's your whore, Louis."

   "Yeah, sure, but Raul did not fuck her.  He grabbed her and held her
hand on his desk.  He has this big knife he carries, what do you call it -
named after one of you American cowboys."

   I thought for a second.  "A Bowie knife?"

   "Yeah, a bouy knife.  He takes it out, and WHAP!  he cuts off her little
finger.  He laughs and says he is going to keep it as a souvenir, maybe put
it on a chain and wear it round his neck."

   "What has gotten into this cocksucker?  Jesus, is it just the thing at
the party, or is something else happening?" Louis shrugged his shoulders,
that classic Gallic shrug.  "Hard to say, patron.  I hear that maybe there
are officials, Mexican DEA maybe, who are watching him.  The cartels are
keeping their distance."

   Trapped rat syndrome.  Raul would be increasingly dangerous to work with
in a rational manner.  It was clear that something had to be done about
him, and the idea that I had been forming started to take a definite shape.

   "What happened to the girl?"

   "She is in hospital.  Lost a lot of blood, but she will be OK.  Hey,
want to hear something funny?"

   "Yeah, sure."

   "Her brother is a, you know, a crook.  Robs people, does some jobs for
the cartels.  I think maybe he might do something stupid, try to shoot
Raul."

   "You think he could get away with it."

   "No.  He is not a gangster.  Probably the gun would backfire, shoot him
instead."

   And that is when the proverbial penny dropped.  It clicked together, how
I could wrap up everything that had gone sour since I arrived, solve
everybody's problem, and maybe have some fun doing it.  "Louis, keep the
brother close by.  Get his cell phone number, talk to him, tell him to stay
by his sister's side at the hospital until we need him.  Right now, I want
you to get all of your warehouse girls ready.  I want to pick one for a
special job tonight." As he went back into the warehouse, where the girls
stayed, I sat down to look though the books on the party boat revenues,
although my thoughts were elsewhere.  After a few minutes Louis came back
in the office and motioned for me to follow him.

   Louis had the girls lined up in the back of the warehouse.  I had only
been back there a couple of times.  I could see into a few of the little
cubicles the girls used as bedrooms.  They had clothes draped over the
walls, little vanity tables strewn with makeup containers.  Some had up
posters of movie stars or Mexican pop singers.  There were six girls there,
a little low for the time of the year, but probably there were some who had
not returned from last night's jobs and others who had made an early start
of cruising the tourist bars.  As a businessman, I have to recognize and
acknowledge initiative like that.  Two of them were what I called Standard
Issue Putas - fat, brown, nasty Mexican whores who thought they were sexy.
The kind who wore tube tops and stretch pants with their bellies hanging
over.  They were female versions of our problem boy Raul: Fat, lazy, drunk
half the time and thought they were special when in fact they were not
worth shit.  The other four were all over the place: a flat-faced Mezito
from southern Mexico or maybe somewhere in central America, the
dark-skinned girl Rosita from the party, and a pretty light-skinned teenage
girl (or maybe she was trying to look young) with her hair done up in
pigtails.  And then there was the Chinese whore.  My heart almost stopped
when I saw her.  She was perfect for what I had in mind, older, worn-out
looking.  This was no china doll, but a woman of thirty or so who never
once looked at me, but kept her eyes fixed in the middle distance like a
soldier after combat.  "Louis, when did you start running an Asian
brothel?"

   "Oh, that one?  She has been around a while.  She lives here, got
nowhere else to go.  She was being smuggled in to the US, but she was
robbed on the boat and could not pay the coyotes.  Been working for me
trying to save up, but I don't think she will ever make it."

   "How come I've never seen her before."

   "Her?" Louis laughed.  "Oh no, I don't send her to parties.  This one I
save for gangbangs with the Federales, or if somebody wants something
special, like a pony show or a dog show." He reached over and patted her
head, she flinched a little when he touched her.  "This one is my movie
star!  She has made all sorts of movies, golden showers, brown movies..you
know what I mean?" I nodded.  "Not that she will ever go to Hollywood, but
there are people who pay a lot of money to see her."

   "I think she is perfect." Louis looked at me oddly, like maybe I was
cracking up.  "I want her tonight, Louis.  I want you to bring her over
about 8:00 or so and leave her, then come back around 10:00.  When you come
back bring the hoodlum, the brother of the girl Raul chopped up.  I want
you and him to locate Raul's car and figure out how to open the trunk. 
Better if it does not look forced, but do what you have to.  You think he
is up for the job?"

   "He is a professional thief.  There is no car he cannot break into,
especially a big American car like Raul drives."

   Like I said, I was in an ugly mood.  I moved over to one of the Standard
Issue Putas.  She smiled at me, a big wide shit-eating smile.  "Louis, set
me up in one of the bedrooms with this," I peeled off several hundred
dollars bills from a roll in my pocket, glancing back down the row of
girls, "And Pigtails over there.  Put some rope in the room too."

   The bedroom was dark and smelled of something slightly soured.  There
was one narrow single bed that I shoved against wall.  There was a stained
fitted sheet on the bed and a couple of pillows.  The only other furniture
was a wooden chair and a sink on one corner.  By the time I went to Louis's
office to tell Carlo I would be a while, both the whores were naked and
sitting on the bed.  Without a word, Louis handed me several lengths of
white cotton rope and then shut the door as he left.

   "Either of you ladies speak English?"

   "A little," said the fat SIP, still smiling at me, squirming on the bed
like her cunt was on fire.  Her friend nodded too.  "Good, no communication
problems," I said.  I motioned to the fat one, "Get up and turn around."
And when she did I tied her wrists behind her back.  I spun her back around
and sat her down.  Putting the pillows behind her, I made her lay back
until she was resting against the wall.  I handed the other rope to the
teenage whore.  "Tie her legs to the bed frame.  Tight, I don't want her
coming loose." She knotted a rope around one ankle and tied it to the
nearest leg of the bed, while I stripped off my clothes.  But the other
rope was too short to reach, even after the fat puta obligingly scooted her
fat ass over as much as she could.  "Stretch her goddam legs apart!" I
shouted, and when she still had trouble I pulled her aside and did it
myself, splaying the fat bitch open.

   Now was the time for some fun.  I leaned over the trussed up whore and
slowly starting slapping her tits, one after the over, slapping harder and
harder still until she started blabbering at me in Spanish.  I grabbed the
back of her head and pulled her up for a long wet kiss, spitting in her
face as I let her go.  I grabbed a big brown nipple and twisted it hard,
watching her tears joining the spit that slowly slid off her face.  I
started back on her tits, slapping them as hard as I could, dark red
splotches were starting to appear.  Her crying was getting more annoying,
so I got a pair of panties off the floor, big ones so they must have been
hers, and stuffed them in her mouth.  I slid my cock into her wrenched-open
cunt, and pulled the other whore behind me.  It took a couple of pulls on
her head for her to get the idea that I wanted her to lick my ass.

   This was the fun part, my asslicker running her soft wet tongue over my
asshole, flicking at my shitter, licking down to my balls then back up to
the top of my crack.  My cock sunk deep in the fat whore's cunt, I started
to wail into her, punching her in the tits, in her fat belly, bitch
slapping her hard across her face until my hands were sore, and then
punching her guts and breasts again until they were bruised all over.  I
stepped back to admire my handiwork, pulling my belt from my pants.  The
fat puta's tear-streaked eyes opened wide.  I pulled my other whore around
in front of me and pumped my cock into her mouth as I began to beat the fat
whore's cunt with my belt.  I slashed across her thighs, landing blows
directly on her cunt, making her jump so hard the bed came off the floor
when I whipped her clit.  I fucked the girl's face to the whap whap whap of
my belt against moist flesh.  It was soon too much.  I grabbed the girl's
pigtails and pulled her in to me, coming massively in her mouth, holding
her tight so she gagged and coughed and choked on my load.

   I washed up in the sink, using a wet paper towel to clean off my cock. I
started getting dressed.  The teenage whore untied her compatriot, who was
still bawling her eyes out.  She cradled the fat whore in her arms,
shushing her, just like a little mamacita trying to comfort a fat baby
twice her size.  It was really very touching.

   I spent the rest of day working, calling the States, reading and
answering emails.  Maybe part of the distraction of Cabo was the petty
corruption, the business deals that meant less to me than the money I spend
on vacations, the whole sultry "Touch of Evil" mystique of it that kept my
mind preoccupied on something other than the future of my company.  Sitting
at the desk in the office at the house (it was way too hot to try to work
outside), I felt depressed, like an accountant and not a Master of the
Universe.  I wanted to go outside and play, I wanted to spread some money
around town and see what kind of trouble I could start.  I wanted to go out
on Louis's party boat that I had paid for and get drunk with a gang of
American frat boys.  Tedious messages from junior administrators, lengthy
inter-office emails, stock transactions and verifications and sales
forecasts and ..  all of it.  All the mind-breaking details that went the
running of a large modern corporation.  The hell with taking Lorena to the
US, I will stay down here!  That is what golden parachutes are for, so you
can pull the ripcord before you crashed and burned.  I would cash in and
retire, marry Lorena and live like king down here on the beach.

   Persevering in the drudgery, I had finished most of what I had to get
done by 6:00 that evening.  After dinner, I told Lorena she should probably
stay in the poolhouse with the girls, that I would have a few people coming
over but it would probably be best if she was not around.  She nodded, and
after quickly clearing the tables and cleaning up, she left.  I could see
the lights in the poolhouse, occasionally one of them walking by the shaded
windows.  I hoped they were happy.

   Louis was punctual, arriving with the Chinese whore and another man who
I found out was the brother of the delivery girl.  It turns out the whore
could speak a few words of English, and was called Su Li although who knows
if that was really her name.  I told Carlo to take her up to the master
suite, and to tell her to wait in the bathroom for me.  Louis balked when I
explained to him what I had planned, but the other guy, Paulo, seemed to
think it was a good idea.  He had already located Raul's car, found that it
was left unlocked (who would try to steal from the chief of police?) and he
was good to go to if it meant extracting revenge for what had happened to
his sister.  Louis was fairly certain Raul was going to his mistress's
house after dinner with his family, and that he would be there until
midnight or later.  Paulo would keep track of the car, not hard as Cabo San
Lucas is not too large of a town, and would stay in touch with Louis.  The
only tricky part of the plan was convincing Louis.

   "If it is a matter of money, I will reimburse you.  If you want, I'll
cancel the debt on the party boats - that has to be worth much more."

   "That is only part of the problem, patron." Louis looked honestly
worried.  "It puts you in danger of being arrested, and me."

   "It is all about timing," I reassured him.  "The local authorities want
Raul gone.  This is not CSI, no one is going to do any forensic tests.  Do
the job, get away, make a phone call.  The man I told you about is ready
for me to drop a dime on Raul, and the Federales will never know where he
got the information.  By daybreak tomorrow we will all look like heroes."

   There was not much more Louis could say He stood to come out ahead in
the deal, and his only risk was a few minutes driving time.  They left,
Louis promising to be back by 10:00 sharp.  That left me a little more than
an hour and half.

   I went upstairs to my bedroom, and found the whore Su Li where she had
been left, sitting on the floor of the bathroom.  I lowered the toilet
cover and sat down.  She was dressed in tight jeans and a glittery gold
halter top that hung loosely from strings on her shoulders, and had worn a
pair of white heels, which now lay in a corner near the toilet.  She stood
up and pulled off her top.  Her skin was pale, her nipple like small dark
spots on the white mounds of her tits.  There were marks on her tits, old
scars from cuts and burns.  As she turned and lowered her jeans I could see
she had a tattoo just over her ass that said "Shit Slut" in gothic letters.
Her ass sagged and was marked and scarred much worse than her tits.  She
turned and faced me, I told her to put her hands behind her head.  She had
a slight paunch to her stomach, and a scar that was evidence of a long ago
caesarian.  There was a cursive letter "L" branded on the top of her left
thigh.

   There were endless possibilities of what I could to this piece of meat,
but only so much time to do them.  I motioned for her to come over and
stand in front of me.  I pulled the KY tube out of a drawer and began to
play with her cunt, lubing it, fucking her with three fingers, then I
turned her and had her bend so I could lube her ass.  Her asshole was tight
on my finger, and I could feel a little turd deep in her rectum.  I got up
and washed my hands, stripped, and sat on the toilet and took a shit while
she sucked my cock.  I told her get in the tub and I pissed on her, shoving
my cock in her mouth and causing her to choke and sputter.  I turned on the
shower and cleaned her off, then pulled her by the hair into the bedroom.

   The clock on the nightstand said 8:46.  Louis would be back in about an
hour.  There was a box of toys that I kept in a closet, and I wanted to use
them on her.  I made her get on the floor on her knees, I took a pair of
handcuffs and put them on her wrists, and another pair on her ankles. 
There was an extra pair of handcuffs in the box, I would need them later so
I left them on the nightstand.

   What would a man do with a totally submissive woman over whom he had the
freedom to go as far as he wants?  Would he be satisfied with just fucking
her?  Of putting his cock in her mouth, her cunt, her ass?  Would he hit
her, kick her?  Would he light a cigar and burn her?  Over the next hour I
did all of these things and more.  As she knelt on the floor, I started
with fucking her mouth, then turned around and spread my ass cheeks so she
could lick my shit-smeared ass.  She leaned forward compliantly, running
her tongue up and down my crack, tonguing my shithole.  When I tired of her
oral pleasures I got a small whip out of my box of toys, using it on her
tits, her back, her belly.  This was normal S&M play for her, nothing that
would freak her out.  She even knew what was coming when I lit a cigar and
sitting on the bed next to her, extinguished the burning tip on her
sensitive breast meat.

   It was getting late, so I pulled her on the bed, fastening her wrists to
the top of the bedframe.  I kissed her roughly, forcing my tongue in her
mouth and exploring it, sucking in her lips, kissing her and tasting her
and tasting my own flavors on her.  It was more exciting than disgusting. I
eased my cock into her, she spread her legs wide to accommodate me.  This
was old hat for her, tied to a bed, fucked hard by a stranger.  I pushed up
her legs, folded them up to her chest so her asshole was exposed, an
obscene pink rose, completely vulnerable to my attack.  Roughly I began to
penetrate her ass, ripping into her rectum and causing her to howl in pain.
I pulled out and fucked her cunt awhile, then returned to pump my now slick
cock in her ass again.  I alternated, ass then cunt then ass again - she
would be in danger of a urinary infection at the very least, if it even
mattered anymore.

   Gradually I started turning up the heat, pinching her nipples hard until
she cried out.  I sucked a nipple into my mouth, I slapped my hips against
hers, she closed her eyes and I bit down hard.  She screamed in pain and
started rolling around on the bed, trying to get me out of her.

   Leaving her on the bed, I retrieved a long rope from my toy box and ran
it under the bed, looping around the legs at the foot of the bed and
pulling the ends up.  It was a struggle to get the other handcuff on her
other ankle, an even harder struggle to attach them both the ends of the
rope.  She was spread eagle, a target.  I climbed back on the bed and stood
over her.  Pathetically she mewled at me to let her go, telling me all the
nasty things she would do for me.  I kicked her in the cunt.  I dropped
down to one knee, resting my weight on her pelvis.  I grabbed her by the
neck and slapped her over and over.  Then I started fucking her again. 
When I came close to coming I pulled out and sat on her chest and beat her
pussy, and sat on her stomach and pinched and slapped her tits.  I tried
once to sit on her face but she tried to bite me, I think by that point she
understood what was going to happen to her.  I kept glancing at the clock,
and when it was 9:45 I punched her a few more times, then got up my courage
for the end.

   Those of you who are reading this, you only want something to masturbate
to.  You sit there in front of your computer, one hand on your cock, and
scroll these stories looking for the good parts.  In your jaded lust you
want stories that are violent, extreme, beyond every taboo.  I know,
because I have done the very same thing, alone in my office or my house. 
You probably have no idea who Raul is, or Louis, or anyone I have told you
about except the girls I fucked.  You want stories where girls are always
compliant, who do anything they are told, even after they have been hurt
and humiliated and tortured.

   Real life is not like that.  Su Li cried, she screamed, she tried to get
loose until the handcuffs cut her wrists and the pillows were covered in
blood.  She wanted to live, not to die a willing sex slave in some fuck
story.  After all she had been through, all the strange men who had hurt
her and used her, she still wanted to live.  Was she trying to get her
family in America?  Was there a child there who was missing his mother?  Or
did she leave a baby in China, to be raised by grandparents while she
sought work in United States?  There were so many questions that would
never be answered now.

   I was able to get my cock back into her cunt, despite her thrashing
about, and looped my belt around her neck.  She knew what was coming, she
spit at me, she screamed, she begged until I cut off the air and she could
not talk anymore.  In those final moments, as her eyes bugged out, I stared
intently at her face, watched every expression while I pumped my load in
her tightening cunt.  I came as her eyes went glassy, the red flush her
face fading, her body still and lifeless.  I got off her, ran into the
bathroom and threw up.

   By the time I felt I could face going back in the bedroom I heard the
door downstairs and voices from the den.  Louis was back.  I pulled on some
clothes quickly and went down stairs.  I waved to Carlo.  "It's over - go
get her and take her out to Louis's car." Without a word Carlo did what he
was told, coming back with the body wrapped in a sheet.  I heard a scream
behind me.

   Was it the sounds of what happened upstairs, or the cars coming and
going?  Lorena had stepped inside the den, I never even heard her come in,
she had disobeyed me and now she had seen Carlo with the dead whore's body.
I stepped toward her, but she backed away, her fists balled at her side,
trembling with anger.  There were tears running down cheeks.

   "Que monstruo!" she screamed.  "You..you are a very bad man!" she
shouted at me, then turned and ran back into the poolhouse, sobbing.

   I told Louis get on with it, and he rushed out.  When Carlo came back in
I told him I wanted to leave.  "Carlo," I said, "call around, see if the
jet is available or if there is flight out in the morning.  I want to get
the hell out of here." After some calling and clicking around on the
internet, we arranged a seat on a charter out of Cabo at 6:00 in the
morning, then a commercial flight from Dallas to Chicago-O'Hare.  I sat up
most of the night, maybe dozing a little now and then.  Around 2:00 in the
morning Louis called, saying the Federales had picked up Raul and that he
was being held on murder charges.  I hung up, not really interested
anymore. Carlo drove me to the airport just before dawn, and as he pulled
my bags from the trunk he told me was staying in Cabo.  "Think I'll stick
around, see the lay of the land, make sure there are no loose ends," he
told me.  "Sure, Carlo, just let me know when you are heading back." I knew
I would not see him again.

   It was early evening by the time I took a taxi from O'Hare to my home. I
skipped dinner but had a few bourbons to help me sleep.  I slept late the
next morning, and later in the day I called a real estate agent I have
worked with in the past.  I asked her if she dealt with vacation
properties, or knew someone who worked with properties in Baja.  I had a
house in Cabo San Lucas I wanted to sell.





















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