niggers/ZooTracker_Torrents/Petbooks/PB-112.TXT

PB-112 Her Animal Act by Author Unknown


Chapter 1


Right at my pussy, Paula thought, squirming uneasily. He's staring 
right at my pussy!

The shabby Mexican boy was about Paula's age, fourteen, kneeling at her 
feet, holding and applying polish to her loafer with little slaps and 
rubs, the Juarez sun beating down very hot on them that summer 
afternoon.

Paula regretted having stepped outside the leather-goods shop in which 
her parents were still browsing. She also regretted having worn her new 
short skirt. With her leg hiked up and the boy kneeling before her, she 
realized he could see everything! Of course she had panties on, and he 
couldn't actually see her blonde mound, but his hot gaze and amused 
grin unnerved her just the same. The dirty boy was seeing more of her 
than she'd ever shown her boy friend back home!

"Watch it!" she snapped. "You're getting polish on my ankle!"

He said he was sorry, but Paula doubted it from the way he chuckled. 
She wished she hadn't let him talk her into a shine, even though she 
did need one badly. What I don't need, she thought, is his big, brown 
eyes eating me up like they're doing! For a second she allowed herself 
the knowledge that the Mexican boy was darkly handsome, and during that 
second his gaze caressed her crotch quite pleasantly, actually starting 
her cunt on its automatic response and making it juice slightly.

But she stopped that nonsense by shutting her eyes and raising her 
pretty face so she wouldn't have to look at him. Tossing her long, 
blonde hair, Paula opened her eyes and glanced inside the shop. Her 
parents were dickering over price, the salesman talking fast as he 
pointed out the quality of the hand-tooled leather purse her mother 
wanted.

The sidewalk was teeming with other vacationing Americans. From three 
doors up music blared in spurts each time anyone entered or left the 
night club which seemed to be going full steam even though it was only 
the middle of the afternoon.

Shops and bars, thought Paula. That's all Juarez is.

She didn't like the border city. There was something about the 
looseness of both residents and visitors which threatened her. She 
couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was that made her uneasy, 
but it did affect her. She would be glad to leave in the morning and 
get back home to Tulsa.

"Senorita?"

"What?" Paula asked without looking down at the boy.

"You want souvenir of Juarez?"

"I already have a souvenir, thank you."

"Not this kind, senorita. Look ... look what I got."

Reluctantly Paula glanced down He was handsome, despite his smug grin. 
She allowed a half-smile to cross her delicate face, showing her white 
teeth as her unpainted lips parted and curled almost warmly.

"Peechers," the boy said, reaching into his shirt pocket and coming out 
with an envelope, opening it and extracting a small stack of 
photographs. "Really good peechers, senorita. You want see them?"

Having no idea what kind of pictures the boy was going to show her, 
Paula nodded naively and held out her hand. "What are they of, the 
bullfights?"

"Much hotter than bullfights, senorita," he laughed. "You look. I sell 
them to you cheap. Ten dollars."

Paula scowled as she took the small stack of photographs. She knew she 
wasn't going to buy them at that price, but she had to see what he 
thought was worth so much money. When she turned the pictures over and 
got a look at the first one, the smile instantly vanished from her 
lovely face. She gasped audibly, her hands beginning to tremble and her 
knees feeling weak.

"You like, senorita?"

"No. It's obscene," she whispered, tearing her gaze from the photo and 
glancing nervously around as she pushed them at him.

But he was ignoring her, looking down at her shoe as he worked at it 
with a worn brush.

"Here. Take them back. I don't want them."

"They get better," he said without looking up. "Flip through them all. 
You'll see."

"No ... I don't want to see," she protested, pulling the pictures close 
to her as a middle-aged couple and three children walked past.

The boy wouldn't take them. He kept working at her shoe, starting to 
whistle as he put his brush away and began using a polish-stained rag.

Not knowing what to do, Paula stood nervously with the pictures in her 
hand and her foot propped on the shine box. She had never seen anything 
like that awful picture, and her mind was still reeling from it. She 
thought of throwing the lewd pictures to the sidewalk and running back 
into the leather-goods shop. But she didn't. She merely stood there 
trembling, watching the boy finish her right shoe and letting him put 
her foot on the sidewalk and pull her left foot onto the box to shine 
her other shoe.

As the shock wore off, she realized the photo had also had another 
effect on her. Butterflies seemed to be darting around in her stomach-
the same butterflies that always tried to fly out of her when her boy 
friend kissed her passionately and struggled to put his hand under her 
dress.

Feeling lightheaded and ashamed of herself, Paula brought the pictures 
up and furtively looked at the top one again. It was in color. A very 
dark Mexican man and a fair-skinned girl were lying on a bed, fondling 
one another's genitals as they kissed. Paula stared intently at what 
the girl held in her hand. Recently her boy friend had tried to put her 
hand on something very similar. She hadn't let him, of course, but it 
had excited her just brushing her skin through his trousers.

She couldn't resist going on to the next photo, and it was even worse 
than the first. She heard herself gasp again as she gawked unblinkingly 
at the perverted act it depicted. The girl was on her knees, bending 
over the man, taking his big prick into her mouth! Paula felt a chill 
dart up her spine at the pleased expression on the girl's face. Feeling 
somewhat nauseated, she slipped the disgusting photo off and put it on 
the bottom of the stack.

She didn't want to look at the rest of them-not really. But she 
couldn't tear her eyes away. The man was returning the girl's favor in 
the next shot, his face pushed between her spread thighs and his tongue 
licking deep into her hairy cunt. Paula stared at that one, feeling the 
butterflies in her stomach go wild as she read the obvious bliss in the 
girl's face.

"Oh my God!" she muttered softly, ripping the picture eagerly off the 
top so she could see the next one.

The camera had been between their legs for this one, and it had 
captured every detail. Paula choked back a moan as she saw the man's 
purplish knob pushing into the girl. She flipped to the next picture 
and let the moan escape her tensed throat. The male's cock was gone 
from view, embedded in the girl, his large testicles resting in the 
crack of her widespread ass.

A sensation of whirling enveloped Paula as she hurriedly flipped 
through the rest of the photographs. And the last one was the lewdest 
of all. The man's cock was all shiny-wet, looking soft and red, poised 
just outside the girl's cunt. They'd finished, Paula realized, fighting 
the urge to scream as she stared in utter fascination at the semen 
trickling from the girl's open pussy.

"Ten dollars," the boy said, "take them home and show to your girl 
friends."

With a start Paula realized the boy was finished shining her shoes. "I 
don't want them!" she hissed, thrusting the pictures at him. "Here! 
Take them!"

"You liked them."

"I didn't!"

He grinned, pointing at her loins. "You liked them. I see you are wet. 
Okay ... five dollars then."

"You nasty thing!" she blurted, dropping the pictures as she jerked her 
foot off his shine box.

While the boy was hastily picking up his dirty pictures, she dug a 
quarter from her purse and tossed it to the sidewalk, then spun around 
and stomped toward the door of the leather-goods shop. She'd never felt 
so insulted. Raging, she darted into the doorway only to bump into her 
parents coming out.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

"Nothing, Daddy. The heat, I guess. Can we go back to the motel now?"

"Let's stop at one more shop first," he said. "I want to get one of 
those black-velvet paintings with all the bright colors."

"For heaven's sake, Elliott," her mother snapped. "You can get your 
grotesque painting tonight. Look at Paula's face. Why, she's near 
heatstroke!"

"You are awfully red, sweetie," Elliott said. "Have you been standing 
right out in the sun? Stay here in the shade with her, Ruth. Let me get 
the air-conditioning going before you two get in the car."

* * *


When Elliott came from his shower, Ruth was standing beside the bed 
hooking her nylons to her garter belt. He stopped to watch the sensual 
scene. At thirty-five her body was even better than it had been when 
he'd married her sixteen years ago. And her face had mellowed rather 
than aged, making her a very beautiful woman indeed. Unlike most women 
her age, Ruth had no need for a bra. Elliott counted himself very 
fortunate to have married her, even though her sex drive was nowhere 
near as strong as his.

And his sex drive was beginning to make itself known. The light glinted 
off her very blonde and carefully coiffured hair as she bent to her 
task, her fingers popping the fasteners into place to hold her hose up 
snug around her long, shapely legs. In that position her pink-tipped 
breasts stood out from her body to best advantage, jiggling as she 
fussed to get everything just right.

All she had on at the moment was garter belt and hose. His cock coming 
to life, love for his beautiful wife welling up in his chest, Elliott 
sneaked up behind her. Being careful not to let his prick slip between 
her nude buttocks, because she didn't like that at all, he bent over 
her and cupped her tits, kissing her warm back and sighing.

She jerked, then ignored him and went on fixing her stockings to her 
garter belt.

"Ohh, how I love you!"

"I love you too, darling," she said coolly. "Get dressed."

"What's your rush? We've got all night. Come to bed and let's make love 
before we go out."

"I'm not in the mood, Elliott."

"It's been almost two weeks."

"I'm still not in the mood. This place upsets me. I don't like it here 
... and I don't like what we're going to do tonight."

Hurt, his cock wilting at once, he released her tits and stepped away. 
"You don't have to go with me, you know. Stay here if you'd rather."

"Oh, no," she sighed. "You'll be drinking much more than you're used 
to. I do have to go with you. I wouldn't want you doing anything 
foolish."

"Like what?" he asked tiredly, stepping into the fresh shorts she'd 
laid out for him.

"Hah!"

"Ruth, I'm a minister ... remember?"

"You're also a man ... remember? And booze and pretty young girls have 
a way of making some ministers we've known forget how to behave 
properly. Now I'm not saying you'd make an ass of yourself like George 
did, but with me along you're much less likely to get into anything you 
shouldn't."

"For crying out loud, Ruth!"

"I'm going!"

"All right!"

"I don't see why this nonsense is necessary, but I'm going."

"I'm writing a book on morals, dear ... on vacation morals, how people 
differ in their moral outlook when they're away from home and job and 
family. Tonight is research, pure and simple. A border town is still a 
wicked place. I expect to get enough material tonight for at least one 
chapter ... maybe two."

"Some research!"

Elliott jabbed his arm into the sleeve of his shirt.

"Going to filthy bars where girls strip and all."

"How else am I going to know what I'm writing about?"

"Can't you imagine what goes on in such places? Do you have to go see 
it for yourself before you can condemn it?"

"Yes, I can imagine what goes on; and yes, I have to go see if for 
myself. I've never written a book before, but I want mine to be factual 
and forceful ... not full of hot-air sermons."

"All right, darling. I think I see your reasoning now," she said 
pleasantly, coming toward him with her panties on, turning and backing 
to him for him to hook her bra.

At nine, Elliott and Ruth were dressed to go out. Both were somewhat 
nervous about the evening ahead, though neither would admit it to the 
other. Ruth had never seen anything like the sensuality they were 
venturing into, and she would have preferred not to ever. But she 
couldn't allow Elliott -- what with his strong drives and all -- to do 
his border town research on his own. He was more than a minister, and 
she could imagine him drunk and carrying on in one of those dens of 
iniquity, the alcohol causing him to forget decency temporarily. Of 
course he would hate himself for it later, if such a thing should 
actually happen, because he was a very moral person. But with her going 
along, she reasoned, he would drink less and she could thereby save him 
any embarrassment and later guilt. She didn't know why he wanted to 
write that silly book anyway. They certainly didn't need the money he 
might make from it -- not since he'd taken the big church he now 
pastored. But writing such a book had been on his mind for some years, 
and in a way she was relieved that at last he was going to do it and 
get it out of his system once and for all.

Elliott would have preferred to leave Ruth behind. He'd seen a bit of 
border town night life many years ago, before he'd ever thought of 
becoming a minister. He'd never been in Juarez, but he supposed it was 
somewhat like Nuevo Laredo, which he'd visited with three of his 
soldier buddies while stationed in Texas. He would rather have spared 
his wife an evening he knew could only make her upset and 
uncomfortable. But she was adamant in her insistence on going with him 
to keep him out of the "foolishness" he was certain he wouldn't get 
into anyway. On the other hand, he admitted to himself as they went 
into Paula's room to tell her good night, Ruth's reaction might be 
useful to his book since she was a God-fearing woman and would be 
seeing such licentiousness for the first time. But at any rate she 
insisted on going, and it was easier to take her along than cause hard 
feelings and suspicions.

Elliott knocked on the door between their connecting rooms.

"It isn't locked. Come on in," Paula called, pulling the cover over her 
because she had on her shortie nightgown.

"We're leaving now, sweetie," Elliott told her, crossing to her bed to 
kiss her good night. "It'll probably be late when we get back. Don't 
try to wait up for us, okay?"

"I won't, Daddy. I'm going to watch TV for a while though. I can't 
understand a word they're saying, but the Mexican station fascinates me 
just the same."

"You can get the El Paso stations too, you know," Ruth said, moving to 
offer her cheek for Paula to kiss, so she wouldn't smear her carefully 
applied lipstick.

''Mother, you look absolutely beautiful! Doesn't she, Daddy?"

"She always looks beautiful," Elliott said, smiling at Ruth.

"Well, I think you look extra lovely tonight, Mother."

"Thank you, Paula. Don't stay up too late, now ... and be sure to lock 
your door. Ours is already locked. You don't have to worry about anyone 
coming in through it."

"I hardly think she has anything to worry about in this motel, Ruth."

"You can't be too careful, Elliott. I want her to lock her door as soon 
as we leave."

"All right, Mother. I will. You and Daddy have a good time. Don't worry 
about me. I'm big enough to take care of myself for a few hours."

"A good time," Ruth muttered disdainfully to herself as she moved to 
the door.

"Good night, sweetie," Elliott said. "Pleasant dreams."

"Daddy," Paula called, stopping Elliott in the doorway. "Did I tell you 
how handsome you look?"

Elliott chuckled as he shut the door.

Still smiling at the faint embarrassment her compliment caused her 
father, Paula kicked back the covers and went to lock the door. When 
she climbed back on the bed to watch the Mexican TV program, she didn't 
bother to pull the cover over her again. The air-conditioning made the 
room quite pleasant but not at all chilly. She felt her mother was 
silly to worry about her being alone. The Juarez motel was new and 
plush, with the vast majority of the guests Americans like themselves. 
The few Mexicans she'd seen in the dining room were obviously from the 
better families. But of course she would have locked the door anyway. 
She always did lock the door at any motel -- because it was sensible -- 
but not out of fear.

The next program on the Mexican channel was less interesting, but she 
didn't bother to get up and switch to another station. Inside her mind 
another program was beginning to play, and it was like nothing TV had 
ever broadcast! One by one the obscene photographs she'd been so 
stunned by that afternoon kept flashing into her consciousness.

At first it was upsetting and she tried to drive the horrid mental 
images away. But they refused to go. The more she fought them the more 
vivid they became. Soon Paula gave up, sighing as she shut her eyes. 
She realized instantly that shutting her eyes and relaxing had been a 
mistake, because her mental images grew even more vivid and lifelike. 
They were still awful, but now she found them exciting as well. She 
knew she shouldn't find such obscene trash exciting, and she tried not 
to let it affect her.

It did affect her, though, and soon her pink nipples were turning hard 
and her stomach was literally full of those pleasant butterflies. The 
Mexican shine boy's face came before her, handsome and smug as he 
pointed at her crotch and said, "You liked them. I see you are wet." 
And she had been wet. When she'd undressed for a cool shower as soon as 
they'd returned to the motel, Paula had discovered her panty crotch was 
soaked with secretions.

And she was secreting again, she realized with a start, even more than 
in the afternoon. The juices were beginning to boil inside her loins 
just from thinking about it. Her virgin pussy felt strange all hot and 
hungry and itchy!

"What's happening to me?" she moaned softly. "Am I losing my mind?"

My mind, she thought. It's only in my mind. It can't hurt anything if 
it's only in my mind. I feel so strange! I wish -- oh God, I really do 
wish I was the girl in those dirty pictures!

And she became the girl in her mind -- not Paula Strickland, the 
minister's daughter, but a lustful worldly girl, taking great joy as 
she dove mentally into an orgy of sexual sinfulness. The man in the 
pictures became the shabby but handsome shine boy. They were lying 
together -- this other girl, not Paula Strickland -- kissing 
passionately and handling each other's sex organs. Then this other 
Paula -- this total stranger -- was kneeling over the dark boy's body 
and taking his hard cock eagerly into her mouth, sucking it wildly and 
moaning with lust.

The moans were real, Paula realized dimly. They were coming from her 
own throat. Her nipples were so hard they hurt, and her young loins 
were threatening to burst into flames at any second. She reached 
quickly between her legs and cupped herself, moaning aloud at the 
thrilling contact, her fingers and palm feeling the wet, warm fluid 
which was oozing from her feverish cunt. She rubbed herself 
unashamedly, still thinking of her mouth -- no, the other girl's mouth 
-- on the hot male organ. She stuck two fingers into her mouth and 
sucked them loudly as her fingers worked under her soaked crotchband 
and began to trace the elliptical opening of her parting cunt lips.

Then she -- no, the other Paula -- was on her back and the boy was on 
top of her, pressing his hard cock into her as the man had done in the 
picture.

"I wish I'd bought the damned things," she muttered.

No! a voice inside her snapped. You wouldn't want anything like that. 
Think how terrible it would be if your parents found them!

"Right. I'm glad I didn't buy them, but I wish ... I wish ..."

Paula didn't know what she wished. Her mind was being bombarded by 
extremely powerful but totally new sensations, and she felt utterly 
confused by it all. She pushed her panties down her thighs and kicked 
them completely off the bed, then spread her legs wide and rubbed her 
hairy mound and her puffy lips, letting her finger slide inside part 
way and tickle her throbbing clitoris.

She abruptly changed hands, licking and sucking her own juice from her 
fingers as her spit-slick fingers began rubbing and dipping into her 
steaming cunt. She was careful not to damage her precious hymen. But 
she did press against it until she felt pain, imagining the pain was 
caused by the Mexican boy's hard cock entering her -- and loving the 
sensation.

"Ohhh ... oh, fuck me!" she panted, shocked at hearing such a dirty 
phrase rip from her mouth, but excited all the more by the lustful 
sound of it.

Paula kept changing hands, sucking and fingering, getting hotter and 
hotter as she saw the Mexican boy and the other Paula join together 
inside her mind. It was so real she could almost feel his big cock 
entering her own sweat-damp body.

"This is crazy," she moaned.

But it was terribly thrilling to think about, and she was only thinking 
about it! It can't hurt, she told her conscience. It isn't really 
happening! And her conscience, dulled by the lust which had overwhelmed 
her young body, gave up and went away.

It was all pleasure for Paula after that. She writhed and rubbed, 
sucked and groaned, secure in the knowledge that such a thing could 
never actually happen to her! And since she was alone no one could ever 
possibly know what she was thinking and doing to herself. It wasn't as 
if she hadn't touched herself there before. She had, but never this 
thrillingly, and never for this long.

"Good Lord!" she gasped, suddenly stiffening as an orgasm swept over 
her for the first time in her life.

The room spun dizzily as her body twitched and jerked. She panted for 
breath, whimpering and groaning as she bit her lower lip and tossed her 
head wildly from side to side, giving herself up entirely to the 
blinding joy of her first climax.



Chapter 2


As they neared the downtown section of Juarez, Elliott reached across 
the seat of the taxi and took Ruth's hand. They'd decided it best to go 
by taxi and leave their car at the motel, thinking rightly there would 
be little available parking space during the early evening rush, and 
fearing possible theft of the clothing and cameras in their car, if not 
the car itself.

Feeling the tenseness in his pretty wife, Elliott suggested, "You can 
still go back to the motel, honey."

She pulled her hand from his. "We've already been over that. I'm going 
with you, and that's final."

"Where to?" the driver asked, turning onto the garishly lit main 
street.

"You want to get your velvet painting first?"

"Naw, forget it. You're right. Those things are grotesque."

"Well, I'm relieved. You would've had to hang it in your study, you 
know. I certainly wouldn't want one of those bright monstrosities in 
the house."

"Drop it, will you?"

"Where to?" the driver demanded. "We are downtown. Some particular 
place you want go?"

"No. Let us out here," Elliott said, taking out his wallet as the 
driver pulled his cab to the curb and stopped.

"You lookin' for fun?" the driver asked.

"Yes," Elliott said. "We're going to take in a few shows."

"I take you to best night club in Juarez ... La Fiesta. Big names from 
your country entertain there. Very high-class place."

"No. That isn't exactly the kind of entertainment we have in mind," 
Elliott said.

The pudgy Mexican face smiled knowingly. "Just strippers and dancers 
here downtown. You want see a special show?"

"A special show?"

"You know, senor."

The tone of the man's voice made Elliott know. "Yes, I think I do know. 
But I don--"

"Anything you want see. I take you."

"I'm sure you can, bu--"

"Real dirty show. Live. Anything you want see."

"No!" Elliott snapped, handing the driver a five and waiting for his 
change.

"I'll be around if you change your mind," the driver called as Elliott 
climbed from the taxi and held the door for Ruth.

"What was he talking about?" Ruth asked as they strolled up the 
sidewalk.

"Live sex shows, I think."

"How disgusting! You're not planning to see anything like that, are 
you, Elliott?"

He wasn't planning on any such thing, but he couldn't resist jabbing 
back at Ruth for refusing him at the motel. "Maybe later. Are you going 
with me?"

"You're not serious, Elliott!"

" About halfway!"

"Don't make a scene, darling," she said, calming down at once.

"Ruth, either get off your high horse or go back to the motel."

She could only push Elliott so far and she knew it. Though she didn't 
like any of this, she decided to go along and keep her mouth shut for 
the rest of the night. She smiled sheepishly, slipping her arm through 
his and saying, "I have been a little bitchy, haven't I, darling?"

"That isn't exactly the way I would've phrased it, but yes, you have 
been somewhat bitchy ever since we crossed the bridge this noon."

"I'm sorry, Elliott. It's the first time I've ever been out of the 
United States, and I guess it upsets me more than I'd thought."

"I understand, honey. But you don't have anything to worry about. They 
treat tourists very well here. Their economy depends on Americans."

"I know. I'm being silly."

"Not silly. Just overly cautious."

"Well, whatever. You lead the way, darling. I'll go with you 
uncomplainingly for the rest of the night. After all, you do have to do 
your research if you're going to write a good book, don't you?"

"That's what I've been telling you, honey."

"Okay," she said, gulping. "I'm ready for anything."

Elliott laughed. "You can relax. We're not going to one of those 
special shows."

"Well now, I am relieved to hear that. But don't forego it on my 
account. I'm willing if you really think it's necessary. I can shut my 
eyes or something."

"Well," Elliott teased, "maybe later. If you're all that anxious to see 
life in the raw --"

"Now, I didn't say that, Elliott."

He laughed, putting his arm around her and hugging her, sensing that 
she was unwinding a bit, and glad of it. When she joined his laughter, 
he said, "Come on. Let's go in here."

The emcee was doing his monologue when they entered the dimly lit night 
club. A bored waiter motioned them toward a front table. Elliott shook 
his head and pulled out a chair for Ruth at an empty table near the 
center. He wanted to watch the club's patrons as much as the show 
itself, and he couldn't do that comfortably from a front table. The 
vacationing Americans were his prime interest of the evening. It was 
their reactions and antics that he wanted to mentally record for the 
book he was yet to start.

Ruth laughed heartily at something the emcee said. "Why, he's actually 
good, Elliott."

"I didn't hear."

"It was a little off-color but not at all vulgar like I was afraid it 
would be. He's quite funny."

A different waiter slapped an ash tray on the table and asked what they 
wanted to drink.

"What do you want, Ruth?"

"Oh," she said, grinning as she watched the emcee make a face while he 
talked incessantly on, "whatever you're having, darling. Make it 
something Mexican, why don't you?"

"Something Mexican," Elliott told the waiter.

"Margaritas?" the waiter asked.

"That'll be fine."

The emcee was good, Elliott discovered, much too good for the strip 
joint they were in. He did a long monologue of very humorous and only 
slightly off-color material, interrupting it twice to sing a couple of 
American standards in his rich baritone voice. By the time he was 
finished with his act and introducing the first stripper, Ruth and 
Elliott had absently sipped all of their margaritas and the waiter had 
brought them two more without bothering to ask if they wanted them.

Ruth picked up her second drink and licked at the salt-covered rim of 
the glass.

"Good drink, isn't it?" Elliott asked.

"Mmm ... delicious. I wonder what they put in them besides salt? 
Grapefruit juice, I think. That's all I can taste. There's something 
else ... can you tell what else?"

"Nope."

"Well," Ruth said, "I don't think we have to worry about getting drink 
on these. They're good, but sort of weak. I always thought Mexican 
drinks were supposed to be strong, didn't you, Elliott?"

The band played softly. The pretty Mexican girl danced sensually around 
the small stage. Busy watching the stripper and the faces looking at 
her, Elliott only half-heard what Ruth was saying. Something further 
about the drinks, he realized.

Smiling seductively, the dark-skinned girl on stage reached behind her 
and pulled open a zipper very slowly. Ruth quit talking and sat 
stiffly, staring straight at the girl, watching her tease the dress off 
her shoulders. One tit came into view, covered by a peekaboo lace bra 
cup. The girl palmed the large breast, licking sensually at her red 
lips.

Her knuckles turning white from gripping the glass so tightly, Ruth 
brought the margarita to her lips and took a big swallow. Then the girl 
had both her tits in her hands, walking around the stage and showing 
them to the audience. Ruth wanted to jump up and rush out.

But she didn't. She forced herself to quit squirming. She glanced at 
the people in the audience. She sipped her drink.

"Take it off!" someone called.

A chill shot through Ruth at the lewd cry.

"Take it all off!" a female voice yelled laughingly.

Ruth glanced back to the stage, gasping as she saw the girl's lacy bra 
slide down her arms and fall to the floor. Immediately the stripper 
kicked it away, the action causing her large globes to sway from side 
to side. 

Several men in the club groaned.

"She's really got 'em, huh?" the emcee asked, unseen and out of the 
light. "I'll let you in on a secret, folks ... they taste better than 
they look!"

"Prove it! Prove it!" two young soldiers at a front table demanded.

The stripper moved to the soldiers, bending over them, holding her bare 
tits as she stooped and brought them near their faces. One soldier 
reached boldly for a brown-tipped tit. The girl laughed and jumped 
away. The audience roared with laughter as she strutted around the 
stage taking off another piece of her costume.

Ruth elbowed Elliott. "How far does this go?"

He shrugged, trying to ignore her and concentrate on the crowd's 
reaction to the stripper.

"It's getting vulgar, Elliott."

Elliott glared at Ruth. "You can leave any time you want!"

"No," she said, making herself smile. "Order us another drink."

"Already?"

"Well, they're so weak ... and they do taste good."

"Okay, honey," Elliott said, taking her hand under the table, giving it 
a little squeeze as he motioned the waiter to bring them more drinks.

"I'll be all right."

"Sure you will, Ruth."

"I've never seen carrying on like this, that's all."

"Does it really upset you so much?"

She sighed. "Not really, I guess. But I don't like it very much."

"I'm glad you don't," Elliott told her, chuckling as he patted her 
thigh.

"Do you like it, Elliott?"

"It isn't a question of whether I like it or not. It's research for my 
book."

"She does have nice titties."

"What?"

"The stripper," Ruth said. "She's got nice ones ... sort of big, 
though."

"Are you getting drunk on me, Ruth?"

"Don't be silly, Elliott. On these weak margaritas?"

Their fresh drinks came. Elliott watched his wife turn hers up and take 
a big sip from it before she started licking the salty rim. He wondered 
if the drinks were as weak as Ruth thought they were. He could feel a 
glow beginning to make itself known in his own stomach, and he could 
handle liquor better than Ruth. Neither of them could drink much, 
though, because liquor simply wasn't served often in their social 
circle.

"How about it, folks? You want see her monkey?"

The girl was down to high heels and G-string, holding her hands behind 
her head, making a lustful face and bumping in time to the throbbing 
drumbeat. She completely ignored the small amount of applause the 
emcee's question brought forth.

"Well, do you want see her monkey or not?"

The applause grew louder. Several whistles and yells pierced the smoke-
filled air.

"Show us your monkey, baby," the emcee coaxed.

The attractive girl shook her head. But her smile was full of tease and 
her hands began stroking her body.

"Ahh ... she's got a pretty monkey," the emcee sighed.

"No monkey," the girl said, running her fingers sensually down her 
abdomen and over her G-string. "Castro!"

"Without a cigar," the emcee laughed. "Come on, baby. Show us Castro 
without his cigar."

"What're they talking about?" Ruth mumbled, watching and listening to 
everything now, finding a certain thrill in the very wickedness of it. 
Her conscience was somewhat dulled by the smooth but potent margaritas. 
The tequila drinks were having much more of an effect on her than she 
thought.

The stripper, turning her back to the audience and looking teasingly 
over her shoulder, slowly removed her G-string and swung it offstage. 
When she faced the front, legs spread apart and wearing nothing but 
high-heeled shoes, her crotch was in plain sight. And there was 
Castro's beard, trimmed and dark and looking better on the girl than it 
ever had on the Cuban.

Feeling her cheeks flush, Ruth looked away from the lewd sight on the 
stage. Elliott paid no attention to the girl. He was too busy glancing 
around the audience, studying the excitement in some faces and the 
boredom in others.

The next girl was plump, almost fat, but she moved quite gracefully as 
she danced to the loud, brassy music coming from the band. The Mexican 
girl danced and stripped, her smile pasted on and artificial. When she 
was down to beads and G-string, she began patting her loins, and 
taunting the two young soldiers at the edge of the stage with, "Supper 
time ... supper time."

The young men were drunk enough to go along with it. They called 
encouragement to the stripper. She moved closer to them, looking down 
at them as she spread her legs and ground her pelvis slowly for their 
benefit. One of the soldiers grabbed her ankle.

"Put up or shut up, baby," he said.

She laughed, smiling down at him, ignoring his hand creeping up her 
leg. When his fingers neared her loins, she pulled away and made a 
circle around the stage, taking the beads off as she danced. Her beads 
were made of plastic, the pop-apart type, and she quickly made four 
small circles from the string, moving back to the young men and giving 
each two of the circles.

"In your mouth," she said to one of the soldiers, squatting at the edge 
of the stage and urging the young man to his feet. She put one of the 
circles of beads in his mouth and palmed her tit close to his face. 
"You get the idea, honey?"

He grinned, nodding and taking her by the waist, holding her still as 
he tried to hook the small circle of beads onto her tit.

"You too, honey," the stripper urged the other soldier.

The plump Mexican girl made faces and sounds of delight as the two 
drunken soldiers rubbed their noses and eyes over her tits, pretending 
to try to hook the beads in place but obviously not caring a damn about 
the beads. The ludicrous sight brought peals of laughter from the rest 
of the crowd.

"Let's go to another club."

Ruth nodded in answer to Elliott's suggestion, getting to her feet at 
once and following him from the club, her eyes smarting from the thick 
haze of smoke that hung in the room. She was surprised to find herself 
walking unsurely and feeling a bit dizzy. On the sidewalk, she inhaled 
deeply in an effort to clear her fuzzy mind.

"La Fiesta?" a taxi driver asked from the curb.

Elliott shook his head, moving to Ruth and taking her hand.

"You want see a special show?" the driver asked confidentially, coming 
to them and blocking their path.

"I don't think so," Elliott said, waving him away and leading Ruth up 
the sidewalk.

Ruth giggled.

"What's funny?"

"There must be a lot of those special shows."

"I guess so."

"Maybe you ought to write about them."

"I wouldn't put you through anything like that, honey," he said. "I'd 
have to go see one of them before I could write about it, you know."

"I know. Why don't we?"

Elliott stopped in his tracks. "You're not serious, are you?"

Again Ruth giggled.

"You're drunk."

"A little," she admitted, grinning back at him. "I guess those 
margaritas aren't as weak as they taste."

"I'd better take you back to the motel."

"I don't want to go back. I wanna stay with you. I've gotta keep you 
out of trouble."

"Some chaperon you turned out to be."

She laughed and hugged him.

"Come on. Let's go to another club," he said.

"Have you ever seen anything like those special shows, Elliott?"

"A movie once ... a long time ago."

"Aren't you curious?"

"Do you want to see one of them, Ruth?"

"I think maybe I do."

"I don't believe it."

"I'm not sure I believe it either," she said slowly. "I've never seen 
anything like that ... but tonight I feel a little wicked."

"You're drunk."

"Yes, I am. And curious ... very curious."

"I guess it wouldn't hurt," Elliott said, thinking aloud.

"And it might help your book."

"Are you sure you wouldn't mind, honey?"

"I'm not sure of anything tonight." She squeezed his hand and smiled 
expectantly. "This place does something to me. I feel strange ... sort 
of turned on."

"Mmmmm ... let's go back to the motel."

"I'd like that, darling," Ruth cooed.

"I'll have to learn how to make margaritas so we can have them at 
home."

"Often," she sighed.

"You're trembling, Ruth."

"I'm excited."

"You want to see one of those shows before we go to bed?"

"If you do."

"It's probably the only chance we'll ever have to do anything like 
that."

"Uh-huh."

"It's wicked and sinful."

"It's research for your book," she said, smiling.

"Hmmm."

"We're total strangers here, Elliott. No one will ever know."

"I don't feel right about it."

"I want to go. Just once in my life I want to see something really 
dirty."

"I've never seen this side of you."

"Me either, darling. Aren't I just awful tonight?"

"It's so unlike you."

"I know. Maybe I'm a voyeur ... do you think?"

He laughed. "I think you're drunk, that's all."

"Are you gonna take advantage of my loosened vacation morals, darling?"

"The show will probably be vulgar and depraved."

"I've never seen anything vulgar and depraved. I want to see that side 
of life just once before I die. You'll be with me. Nothing could happen 
to me, could it?"



Chapter 3


The taxi driver had been standing by, just out of earshot, waiting 
patiently as they talked. When they turned and started walking toward 
him, he swung open the back door of his cab and grinned broadly.

Ruth got in first, paying no attention to her dress as it slid well up 
her thighs. She scooted to the center of the seat, laying her head back 
and closing her eyes, sighing. Elliott got in beside her and took her 
hand.

"This is crazy, isn't it?" she asked, her voice quavering with 
excitement.

The taxi door slammed shut. The driver hurried around the car to get 
beneath the steering wheel.

"No," Elliott said, "it isn't crazy. It's a little daring for decent 
people like us, though."

"It isn't dangerous, is it, darling?"

"Of course not. It's just a show, and it is research for my book. It 
isn't as if we were reveling in the thing itself."

"I'm being silly, I guess ... but it feels dangerous."

Elliott chuckled. He put his arm around her shoulder as the driver got 
in and started the engine.

"Take us to one of those special shows, driver."

"Si, senor."

"Wait!" Ruth shouted, jerking up straight in the seat.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"I can't go, Elliott. I just can't do it."

"I thought we'd already decided."

" But what if I'm the only American woman there? Oh, I'd be embarrassed 
to death!"

"I hadn't thought of that." Elliott leaned forward. "Driver, do many 
people like us go to these shows?"

"Many, senor," the driver assured.

"How big a crowd is there, usually?"

"No crowd. You and your lady will be the only watchers. Very private 
shows. Any kind you want see."

"What do you think, Ruth?"

"Just the two of us?"

"Yes, ma'am," the driver said, turning to look at her.

"Where?"

"In a room. Just you and your gentleman... and the performers of your 
choice, of course."

"Oh that sounds altogether too intimate," she protested weakly.

The driver shrugged. "You'll be at one end of the room, on a couch; the 
performers will be on the bed at the other end of the room."

"It sounds safe enough," Elliott said.

"Si. Thousands of couples like you have seen such shows. They are very 
popular with American couples."

"It's entirely up to you, honey," Elliott said.

"It still sounds awfully intimate that way."

"It sounds like the best possible way to see a show like that, as far 
as I'm concerned. Nothing could be more private."

"Very private," the driver said.

Ruth sat back. "All right. Let's go."

The taxi left the well-lighted main street and for about five minutes 
Ruth and Elliott sat holding hands in silence, watching the darkened 
buildings slip past them. They left the paved streets and onto dirt 
ones, the buildings growing smaller and shabbier and the milling 
tourists disappearing entirely. The area they were moving into was well 
off the beaten path, and Ruth and Elliott grew somewhat nervous. 

"Where are you taking us?" Elliott demanded. 

"To a private club, senor. We are almost there."

"Why is it so far away from the main part of town?"

"These shows are not exactly legal."

"Oh my God!" Ruth gasped. "The police ... is there any danger of a 
raid?"

The driver laughed. "No danger. The police know. They bother nothing so 
long as the owner pays and leaves his club where it is."

Ruth put her face close to Elliott, whispering, "Remember that for your 
book."

He nodded, patting her arm as the cab bounced to a stop in front of a 
building which appeared to be empty. "It looks like an old store 
building."

Many taxis were parked along both sides of the narrow dirt street. The 
driver shut off his lights and engine. Darkness enveloped them 
instantly, but they could hear music coming from the building. Ruth and 
Elliott sat stiffly as the driver got out and came around the cab to 
open the door for them.

"Come on. I take you in. I wait for you ... take you back to town when 
you're ready."

"I'm not as brave as I thought," Ruth whispered.

"You want to back out?" Elliott asked, half hoping that she would.

"No. We're here. Let's go in." She laughed nervously. "I'm more curious 
than yellow, I guess. "

"Nothing to worry about," the driver said.

"He keeps saying that," Ruth mumbled, letting Elliott help her from the 
cab, her dress hiking up her legs nearly to her hips, giving the driver 
a good view of her creamy thighs.

"He ought to know, honey."

"I suppose," she said, standing on the dirt street, smoothing her 
dress. "My mind believes him ... wish my stomach would too."

The driver shut the taxi door and hurried past them to knock on the 
heavy door to the building. Like something out of the American 
Twenties, a small door within the door opened and a serious male face 
peered out. The face recognized the taxi driver. The door swung open to 
admit them, the music loud as it rushed out with a gust of smoky, 
perfume-laden air.

The driver smiled and motioned for them to enter. Elliott cleared his 
throat. Ruth clutched his hand, holding it tightly, walking close to 
him on unsure legs as they went inside.

It was a bar, very dimly lit and fairly large, with tables at one end 
of the room and chairs along a wall. The chairs faced the long bar. 
Girls sat in the chairs, smoking and talking, eyeing the men, mostly 
American soldiers, who sat at the bar. The girls all had one thing in 
common -- they were pretty and young and eager.

"This way, please," the driver said, motioning them to follow him to 
the table area.

Still clutching his hand securely, Ruth moved alongside Elliott toward 
the tables. She felt a thousand eyes boring holes all over her body. 
They had to walk between the girls in the chairs and the men at the 
bar. The men eyed her up good, but none of them made a pass or said 
anything out of the way. Strangely, it was the girls who bothered Ruth. 
Some of them glared at her fabulous shape with envy; some of them 
appeared amused at her presence; but one girl in particular upset Ruth.

"Hello, baby," the Mexican girl said in a throaty voice, her young eyes 
dancing with more than casual interest as Ruth swept past. "You want 
make some hot love with me?"

Ruth glanced at her, feeling suddenly dizzy as she looked into the 
soft, smiling face. The girl couldn't have been more than eighteen, and 
she was as beautiful as any Hollywood starlet. The girl pursed her full 
lips and rubbed teasingly at her loins.

Her mouth hanging open in shock, her knees threatening to buckle at any 
second, Ruth ripped her gaze from the hungry-eyed girl and hurried 
Elliott on toward the tables.

The taxi driver pulled out a chair for Ruth, holding it and easing it 
to the table as she sat down. Somehow his mannerly act made her a bit 
less apprehensive, but she noticed her voice quavering as she mumbled, 
"Thank you."

The driver stood patiently, smiling as Elliott seated himself. "I get 
the manager for you. You want a drink, maybe?"

"I think we've had enough to drink already," Elliott said.

"One more, please," Ruth said, taking Elliott's hand under the table. 
"I need it for my nerves."

Ruth's hand was damp and trembling. Elliott gave it a reassuring 
squeeze and nodded to the driver.

As the driver walked away, Ruth asked, "Elliott, what kind of place is 
this?"

Watching a girl lead a grinning soldier in from the hallway at the 
back, he said, "Don't look now, sweetheart, but I think we're in a 
Mexican whorehouse. "

Ruth's eyes grew wide and her breath sucked in harshly. A shudder 
passed through her. "In a whorehouse?"

"I think so. I guess it's the logical place really, considering the 
type of show we came to see."

"I'm scared, Elliott. We shouldn't be here."

"No, we shouldn't. But since we're here, we might as well stay and see 
the show, don't you think?"

"I don't know what to think. I'm not thinking very well tonight -- 
period. All I seem able to do is feel, and right now I feel 
threatened."

"How so?"

"For God's sake, Elliott ... sitting here in a whorehouse ... with all 
those men? I am a woman, you know."

Elliott chuckled. "And the best-looking one in the place."

"What if one of those men tries to ...?"

"Relax, darling. They wouldn't dare. You're a customer."

"I don't like it. It makes me nervous!

"You'll be all right when we get in the private room."

"I suppose ... but I feel so strange."

"Yeah, me too," Elliott admitted.

Then the bartender was standing beside their table, asking, "What would 
you folks like to drink?"

"I'll have another margarita," Ruth whispered to Elliott.

"Two margaritas, please."

"One for your driver?" the bartender asked, pointing to the bar where 
the driver sat waiting for them.

"Of course," Elliott said. "Give him whatever he wants."

"Your driver has spoken to the manager. He said to tell you he'd he 
with you shortly."

"Thank you."

As the bartender left their table, Ruth whispered, "He speaks awfully 
good English."

"I imagine he's been talking to Americans every night for at least 
twenty years, from me looks of him."

"These poor girls," Ruth said, glancing at the row of young whores but 
dropping her gaze instantly when she noticed the one who'd spoken to 
her smile and tease the tip of her tongue over her heavily lipsticked 
lips. "Elliott, that girl over there ... did you hear what she said to 
me?"

"I heard."

"Isn't that terrible?"

"Yes."

"What she suggested is so perverted. I can't imagine anything like that 
actually happening."

"Oh, those kinds of things happen, all right. It wouldn't surprise me 
to learn that she's made love with lots of curious American women."

"Well, don't look at me like that. I'm certainly not curious. Just the 
thought of such a horrid thing as she proposed petrifies me. Here comes 
our drinks ... good."

As soon as the bartender had placed her drink before her, Ruth picked 
it up and took a big sip. "Could you please hurry the manager a 
little?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll see what I can do," the bartender answered, calmly 
making change for Elliott as he spoke. "He's with a very important 
gentleman, from Panama, I think: but I'll tell him you wish to see him 
now."

"Thank you."

"Yes, ma'am," the stoical bartender said, and when Elliott gave him a 
dollar tip, he added, "And thank you, sir."

Two giggling girls and a serious-faced soldier moved past their table, 
heading for one of the rooms at the back of the building. The jukebox 
played constantly but no one danced, even though there was room for it. 
The men sat at the bar and the girls in their chairs, each group 
talking among themselves, the girls casting inviting glances at the 
men.

Only two of the tables were occupied -- Ruth and Elliott at one, and 
three men and a woman at the other. Elliott's back was to the other 
table, but Ruth had a clear view of it. She watched the bartender move 
to it and speak to one of the men. Then he pointed at her and all of 
them looked. She felt like crawling under the table. The dark-skinned 
woman was dressed like a male flamenco dancer, but she wore no hat. Her 
black hair was done up in a bun, making her thin lips and high 
cheekbones appear even thinner and higher. The way she looked at Ruth 
unnerved her. She felt herself being devoured by the woman's dark, 
cruel eyes. And the slender man she seemed to be with looked even more 
menacing, despite the smile that crept over his face as he appraised 
Ruth. The massive Negro threw her only a brief glance before he turned 
back to his drink. The other man, plump, middle-aged and typically 
Mexican, got up and came toward their table as the bartender returned 
to his work.

"I am Carlos, the manager. I'm sorry to keep you waiting. Your driver 
told me of your desire. Come. Bring your drinks. We will take a room 
and talk in private."

Smiling ingratiatingly, Carlos pulled back Ruth's chair as she got up 
with her drink in one hand and Elliott's hand in the other. They 
followed Carlos toward the back, passing close to the other table, so 
near that Ruth thought she heard the woman say, "That one would be 
perfect to replace Rose, don't you think, Pico?" And then, as they 
moved into the hall, a male voice saying, "Muy bonita. So blonde ... so 
fair!"

But she wasn't sure she'd heard anything, for her mind was reeling from 
the open lust in the handsome man's dark face as he stripped her with 
his evil eyes when she swept past their table holding tightly to 
Elliott's hand.

Carlos stopped before a door and opened it cautiously, peering inside 
before he swung it wide and motioned them to enter. "Very private in 
here. Sit down, please ... there, on the couch."

It was a small room. The ancient, wrought-iron bed with its sagging 
mattress and faded bedspread took up most of the space. The couch and 
an easy chair sat on a foot-high platform, so as to give a good view of 
the nearby bed.

Ruth set her jaw determinedly, allowing Elliott to help her onto the 
platform and sitting down with him in the center of the couch. The bed 
loomed up at her, looking large and lewd all by itself.

Carlos took the easy chair, leaning forward to offer cigarettes which 
Ruth and Elliott both refused. "You want to buy some hot movies to take 
home?"

"No."

"Pictures or books? I got good ones."

"No."

"Just a show?"

"That's all."

Carlos grinned and shrugged. "We got good hot shows. Anything you like. 
What you like to see?"

"We don't have any idea," Elliott said.

"Well, we got nearly everything. I can give you a man and woman; two 
women; two men; one woman with two men or one man with two women; a 
woman with a big dog; a man wi--"

"A woman and a dog?" Ruth gasped, almost choking on a sip of her 
drink."

"Si, Senora," Carlos grinned. "All for real, too. No put on. The girl 
is only sixteen, very beautiful. She really loves her dog. She is a 
farm girl from the back country. The dog is her own, and she do 
everything with him."

"A woman and a dog," Ruth said again, numbly.

"Well, not really a woman. She's just a girl."

"That sounds disgusting," Elliott muttered.

"A woman and a dog!" Ruth exclaimed. "I've never heard of anything so 
dirty!"

"We don't want that," Elliott said. Then he turned to Ruth. "But we 
should see something different ... something perverted, to make my book 
more powerful. How about the two girls?"

"Oh, no," Ruth protested. "Not two girls."

"No," Elliott snapped. "Just the idea of two men turns my stomach."

Carlos laughed. "Mine too ... but some like to see it."

Elliott made a face of distaste and shook his head vigorously.

"A woman and a dog," Ruth mumbled to herself.

Carlos took a cigarette from his pack and lit it. Exhaling, he said, 
"The dog is rested. He no fuck any so far today."

"Elliott, I can't believe a woman and a dog."

"They make you a good hot show," Carlos grinned. "You ever see a dog 
hump a woman, senor?"

"Certainly not."

"Something to see. Everybody ought to see it once before they die."

"I believe my wife and I can live quite well withou--"

"How much?" Ruth broke in.

"Fifty dollars."

"Pay him, Elliott."

"Ruth, you can't be serious."

"You can't stomach the men, and I absolutely refuse to watch two women. 
You want something perverted and dirty to write about, don't you? What 
in the world could be more perverted than a girl having sex with an 
animal?"

"Well ... if you think you can stand to watch it."

"I can't believe it," she said. "It horrifies me. If you want to know 
the truth, it fascinates me ... and I bet it will fascinate everyone 
who reads your book."

"Do you really think so, honey?"

"I'd bet on it. I've got to see it. It'll probably make me ill ... but 
I've still got to see it, Elliott."

"All right," Elliott said, getting out his wallet and giving Carlos the 
money. "We'll see the girl and her dog."

"A good choice," Carlos assured. "You just relax. I'll have them here 
in a jiffy." He stood, counting the money before he put it in his 
pocket. "You want another drink sent in?"

"No, thank you."

"Okay, give me a couple of minutes. I get them in here as soon as 
possible for you." He paused at the door. "The girl, she is very new 
here ... speaks no English."

"We didn't come for conversation," Elliott said.

"I only tell you so you don't get angry if you ask her something and 
she no answer. If you speak Spanish to her, she answer you; but she no 
understand much English. Okay?"

"Okay. Just get them. I'm anxious to have it over with and get out of 
here."

Carlos stepped into the hall and shut the door. He hurried toward the 
main room, hoping to find Carmelita sitting unoccupied in one of the 
chairs facing the bar. He was barely inside the room when Pico called:

"Carlos. Come here."

He approached their table unsurely.

"Sit down, my friend."

"I must take care of a business matter first. Then I come right back."

"Sit down, Carlos. We did not finish our business yet."

Carlos shifted uneasily under Pico's unblinking gaze. "Bu--"

"Sit down!"

Perspiration wetting his palms, his upper lip twitching slightly, 
Carlos jerked out a chair and sat down.

"That's better." Pico smiled. "All I require at the moment is a little 
information and a tiny favor."

Carlos nodded, trying to return Pico's smile.

"The gringos you just took in the back. Why are they here?"

"They come for a show," Carlos said. "I was going for Carmelita. They 
want to see her with the dog."

Pico's hard eyes danced with interest. "Which one asked for the animal 
show?"

Carlos shrugged. "The man paid me."

"The woman, la rubia, did she show much interest?"

"Si, more than the man."

Pico looked at the woman beside him, both of them nodding.

"Esa gringa es muy hermosa. Verdad?"

"Si," Carlos hastened to agree. "Ella es mucha mujer."

Grinning, Pico took out a thin, black cigar from his pigskin case, 
licked it, bit off the end and spat it out, then lit it. "The room they 
are in has a peephole?"

"Si, Pico."

"The peephole is mine. I will spy on la rubia while she watches the dog 
fuck your Carmelita."

"Buy why?"

"You are not going to question me, are you, my friend? There is still 
that unfinished business between us ..."

Pico bowed mockingly. "Gracias, amigo. Now, hurry and give the gringos 
their show."



Chapter 4


The young Mexican girl entered the room where Ruth and Elliott were 
waiting. She was pretty and smiling, leading her dog, a large collie 
that was obviously well cared for, on a leash.

"Buenas noches," she said, shutting the door behind her and locking it. 
Her hand moved to her chest as she looked at Ruth and Elliott and said, 
"Se llama Carmelita." Then she reached down and patted the dog's head. 
"Y lovar del Carmelita."

Elliott smiled stiffly and nodded. "Good evening."

Ruth only smiled a nervous smile and took the last sip of her drink, 
watching the dog's long tongue as he licked his nose.

Kicking off her shoes, Carmelita spoke to the dog and removed the 
leash. The dog barked once, then jumped onto the bed and lay wagging 
his tail, watching as his mistress quickly stripped off her clothes.

"He seems well-trained," Elliott observed.

"I'm going to be ill, Elliott. I know I am."

"Shall I send them away? Would you like to go back to our motel now?"

"No."

"We don't have to stay and see it."

"Maybe you don't," Ruth said weakly. "But I do."

"But if it's going to make you sick ... I don't understa--"

"It's like one of those gruesome horror movies. You know something 
terrible is going to happen but you can't quit watching. That's the way 
I feel about this, Elliott."

Carmelita stood just a few feet in front of them, nude and smiling, 
turning this way and that to show them her supple young body.

"She's very lovely."

Ruth nodded. "So young, too."

Then Carmelita went to the bed and squatted beside it, holding out her 
arms to the dog. He crawled to her and began licking her face. Her arms 
slid over the dog's body, one on his back and one on his stomach. 
Stroking him, one hand moving through the fur on his back and one 
working under him, Carmelita opened her mouth and began licking back at 
his slender tongue.

Ruth stared in horrified awe as the girl teased the dog's tongue deep 
into her mouth and sucked it eagerly.

Rising slowly, Carmelita offered her tits to the dog. He lapped at them 
until both her brown nipples stood hard and pointed with desire. A 
dreamy expression came over her face, and she sighed again and again. 
Finally she pushed the dog away and looked over at Ruth, her face 
asking if she'd like to join in and her hand motioning a welcome.

"Good Lord, no," Ruth gasped, shaking her head so hard her blonde hair 
shook.

"The very idea!" Elliott snorted, his face turning red as he grabbed up 
his drink and finished it off. "We'll have no more of that, young 
woman," he said to Carmelita, forgetting that she couldn't understand 
him.

But it seemed that she did understand his reaction, if not his words. 
It amused her. She laughed openly, nodding her head in assent as she 
climbed onto the bed. The old bed jiggled and squeaked as she scooted 
to the center of it and lay down on her back. She propped her head up 
with a pillow folded double, then spread her legs wide to give Ruth and 
Elliott a clear view of her crotch.

Teasingly, she held the dog away with one hand and rubbed between her 
legs with the other, her eyes on Ruth and Elliott every second. 
"Pussy," she breathed, fingering her cunt open and showing the red 
inside. "Good pussy ... no?"

Elliott squirmed uneasily, his knuckles turning white on the empty 
glass still in his hand.

It was becoming hard for Ruth to breathe. She felt as if the room had 
suddenly grown hot and stuffy.

Releasing the dog, Carmelita let her body go limp. He came at her 
eagerly, licking her tits and belly, making her moan softly as his red 
tongue left her skin wet and shiny everywhere it touched.

"Aqui, perro ... aqui," Carmelita hissed, taking his ear and pushing 
his muzzle down to her cunt.

He jumped between her legs and licked her entire crotch. "Mmm ... Lame, 
perro ... Lame!"

He licked furiously then, Carmelita holding the lips of her twat apart 
so his flashing tongue could dip deep inside her body. She whimpered 
with delight, digging her heels into the mattress and lifting her ass 
off the bed, undulating it as the lewd sound of the darting tongue 
filled the room.

"I feel faint," Ruth moaned.

"We must have been out of our heads for ever coming here," Elliott 
said. He took Ruth's hand and squeezed it. "We'll leave any time you 
want to, darling."

"All right."

"Now?"

"No ... not yet."

"When you've seen enough, just say the word."

"I will, Elliott ... soon, I think."

In the secret hallway behind the room Elliott and Ruth were in, Pico, 
grinning broadly, took his eye from the peephole through which he'd 
been watching Ruth's reaction. He turned to the woman standing beside 
him. "Faustina, get Carlos back here ... quickly."

She hurried off, her full buttocks rolling in the tight flamenco 
trousers. In less than a minute she led Carlos, smiling sickly, into 
the secret voyeur's hall.

"Yes, Pico?" Carlos asked timidly.

"I will have la rubia."

"But ... her husband is with her."

"An easy obstacle to overcome, my friend. You will take them drinks, 
compliments of the establishment. His will be heavily drugged, hers 
very slightly so ... understand?"

"No, Pico. Please, no. I could go to prison for such a thing!"

"You will not go to prison if you do as I say," Pico said softly. Then 
he smiled. "But if you refuse ..."

"Please, Pico," Carlos begged. "Don't make me do this thing!"

Faustina stepped forward and pinched Carlos' cheek painfully, glaring 
into his eyes as she said icily, "Pico is running out of patience with 
you, Carlos."

"Si," Pico agreed. "You owe me a great deal of money for your last 
shipment of heroin."

"But I never received the shipment," Carlos protested. "The messenger 
was killed. The police got the stuff."

"No matter, my friend," Pico said. "He was your errand boy, not mine. 
You owe me. I assure you I will collect."

"I don't have the money to pay you," Carlos whined.

"Then do me this small favor and buy yourself some time. Do not cause 
your wife to be a widow at such a tender age, Carlos."

Carlos shifted uneasily, the sweat of agonized indecision beading on 
his brow. "I don't like it."

"No es importante. Your wife is young and pretty. She will find another 
father for your children."

"No, Pico. A little time ... that's all I need."

"Then do as I say. Your action will buy you a month."

Carlos wiped his brow, nodded reluctantly, then left.

"Take a look, Faustina. Tell me what you think."

Faustina put her eye to the peephole, smiling as she saw Ruth put a 
trembling hand to her cheek. "La rubia's eyes are big as tortillas. She 
will make the perfect replacement for Rosa. The animal and girl hold 
every ounce of her attention."

"Yes, my dear sister. She is quite fascinated by the sight before her. 
I think she would secretly like to take the girl's place, don't you?"

Carmelita, shuddering in orgasm and pushing at the dog's head, moaned 
brokenly, Pe-perro ... cesa! Cesa, perro!"

The dog backed his head away and sat between her thighs, licking his 
moist chops and looking up at Carmelita's distorted face, listening to 
her gasp for breath as her body grew still again.

"Ohhh ... perro ... vida mia!"

Biting her lip, holding her thighs firmly together, Ruth fought against 
the urge to open her mouth and scream at the top of her lungs. She no 
longer felt sick at her stomach. Another sensation was taking hold of 
her. A warmth was building in her loins, a very upsetting warmth that 
was most unwelcome to her inhibited mind. She was just about to tell 
Elliott she'd had all she could take when a key rattled in the lock and 
the door swung open.

Carlos, grinning sheepishly and carrying a tray with two drinks on it, 
entered and came toward them.

"We didn't order another drink," Elliott said.

"These are on the house, senor. Please I want you should have them."

"I don't know about you, Elliott, but I need one!"

Carlos turned the tray as Ruth reached for a drink, making sure she 
took the one intended for her. When Elliott took the other and drank a 
large sip of it, Carlos sighed with relief.

"Thank you," Elliott said as Carlos moved quickly back to the door.

"Por nada, senor ... por nada. Drink and enjoy yourself."

As the door shut behind Carlos, Elliott blinked and moved his lips over 
his teeth in an odd manner.

"My stars, Elliott!" Ruth exclaimed. "Look at them ... look what she's 
going to do!"

With difficulty, Elliott focused on the bed, watching as Carmelita 
turned the dog on his back and brought her mouth close to his skinny, 
fiery-red cock.

"She's gonna suck the dog!" Ruth gasped.

Carmelita's tongue flashed out and licked the secretion from the 
animal's long, slender cock. She swallowed and smacked her lips, then 
opened her mouth and took in several inches of the inflamed prick.

As her lips tightened around the ugly shaft and her cheeks hollowed in 
suction, Elliott shook his head and fought against the revulsion and 
numbness taking hold of him.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Ruth yelped, jumping to the edge of the couch 
and staring in fascinated horror, watching the hot prick jerk and 
tremble as Carmelita began bobbing her head.

"Sickening," Elliott said, his voice sounding weak and strange to his 
ears, the room starting to spin and the bed turning into a blurred 
mass.

Elliott brought the glass close to his face, started to take another 
drink to clear his head, then looked at it instead.

"Ruth."

But she didn't hear him, and she was sitting too far forward to see him 
mouthing her name silently.

The glass slipped from his hand and fell silently to the cushion 
between his legs, the liquid spilling and seeping wetly under him, 
soaking his pants and the cushion. A thousand trucks ran over him all 
at the same time. His brain jerked and bucked inside his skull. Then, 
darkness enveloping him, he slumped unconscious to the couch, his head 
flopping back and his mouth hanging open.

"Ahora, perro ... ahora mismo!" Carmelita shouted urgently, jumping to 
her knees and bending into position, wagging her butt at the panting 
dog.

Ruth turned up her drink and gulped the rest of it down, watching with 
one eye as the dog mounted the girl and hunched into her.

"Ouuu," Carmelita moaned, dropping her face into the pillow as the dog 
wrapped his front legs around her body and began humping her furiously. 
Vida mia ... vida mia!"

Ruth wanted to turn away, but she couldn't force her gaze from the 
sordid scene. She wanted to tell Elliott that she was ready to leave, 
but she couldn't find her voice. All she could do was sit there on the 
edge of the couch, holding her empty glass tightly, feeling suddenly 
dizzy and reeling at the gross obscenity just a few feet before her 
wide eyes.

The dog thrust so fast his ass made a blur. Carmelita moaned and 
whimpered, clenching her hands into fists and beating weakly at the 
mattress. Her toes curled snugly against the soles of her feet. Her 
belly rose and fell rapidly, the sound of her harsh breathing filling 
the room.

Then, when Ruth thought she would go right out of her mind if the 
incredible union went on a second longer, the dog hunched in and held, 
quivering and making noises of his own.

Carmelita grunted, then gasped, then wailed brokenly as she joined the 
animal in a shuddering orgasm.

"Let's go, Elliott. Take me out of this awful place. "

But Elliott didn't answer, and Ruth still couldn't tear her gaze from 
the perverse sight on the bed. The dog pulled his cock from the girl 
and began licking the messy juice as it trickled from her swollen 
pussy.

"Elliott. Let's go, darling."

The girl sat up on the bed, looking over at Elliott with a strange 
expression on her face. Ruth looked at him then for the first time in 
several minutes. He was slightly blurred, and it annoyed her that he'd 
fallen asleep. She shook him.

"Elliott ... Elliott! Wake up!"

A key sounded in the lock. The door swung open.

Feeling as if she were moving under water, Ruth sat up straight and 
glanced toward the door. There in the hall she saw a worried-looking 
Carlos and another man she thought looked familiar. She knew she'd seen 
the handsome Latin somewhere before, but she couldn't place him. It was 
reassuring to see a familiar face though, so she motioned him to her. 
He strode cockily into the room, smiling confidently as he held out his 
hand.

"My husband. Help me wake him up. We have to get back to the motel."

"Don't worry about a thing," Pico said. "I'll take care of your 
husband."

"Thank you."

"My name is Pico."

"I know you from somewhere," Ruth said. "But I didn't remember your 
name. I'm Ruth."

"I'm very happy to know you, Ruth. Are you drunk, by any chance?"

"I don't think so ... but I do feel strange. Help me wake my husband up 
now, please."

"Get them out of here," Pico told Carlos.

And as Carlos hurried Carmelita and the dog from the room, Pico bent 
over Elliott and slapped his face resoundingly, making his head jerk 
from the force of his blow.

"Don't! Don't hurt him!"

Pico shrugged. "I was only trying to wake him."

Ruth got to her knees, bending over Elliott and holding his head, 
looking dumbly at his slack-jawed face. "Elliott ... Elliott! What's 
wrong with him?"

Pico grinned. "I guess maybe he was tired and had a bit too much to 
drink." Taking advantage of Ruth's kneeling position, he bent and 
slipped off both her shoes.

"What are you doing? For heaven's sake ... give me back my shoes!"

"Lock it behind you. I'll call you when I want you again."

"Si, Pico," Carlos said, backing nervously from the room and locking 
the door from the outside.

"Give me my shoes. Why's he locking the door?"

"Because I want to be alone with you."

"Help me with my husband. Please ... something's wrong with him!"

"You're a very beautiful woman."

"Thank you. But Elliott ... I think he's sick! Do something!"

"I'm going to do something."

"You'll help me get him to a doctor?"

"No, I won't do that. Your husband doesn't need a doctor."

"Then help me get him back to our motel. I feel so funny. Please give 
me my shoes. Mr... ."

"Pico."

"I want my shoes, Pico. We have to go now. Dizzy ... I feel so weak all 
of a sudden."

Pico took off his coat and laid it across the easy chair. Then his tie 
and shirt followed.

"Don't," Ruth snapped, when she saw him undoing his pants and stepping 
from them. "Don't do that! For God's sake, put your clothes back on and 
help me!"

"I'm going to help you, rubia. I'm going to give you exactly what you 
need." He pushed his shorts off and kicked them away, then grasped his 
rising cock and stepped so close to Ruth it nearly poked her in her 
startled face. "I'm going to give you this."

Ruth's mouth dropped open. She stared unbelievingly at the hardening 
purplish cockhead.

"It's pretty, isn't it?"

"No," she gasped, backing away and shaking her head.

"Yes it is. I can tell by your eyes that you like to look at it. Wait 
until you feel it, rubia. You'll love it."

"No."

"I'm going to fuck you, pretty gringa. Fight me all you want. I'd much 
rather you fight like a tigress than give in too easy."

"No ... oh my God ... NO!"

Ruth shook Elliott frantically, trying futilely to rouse him, pleading 
with him to wake up.

"He'll be no help to you for many hours. You see, rubia, I had him 
drugged."

"No," she mumbled, then she screamed. "NO, NO, NO!!"

"Oh, yes. He is drugged. You too, rubia, but not as heavily as your 
husband, of course. You feel funny? Dizzy? Weak?"

She looked at him with fear in her eyes.

"The effect of the drug," he explained. "It will harm neither of you."

"Don't touch me!"

"I'll do much more than touch you. When your husband again opens his 
eyes, he will be quite thoroughly cuckolded."

"I'll scream."

"Go ahead. Scream to your heart's content. It will not be the first 
time a woman has screamed in this room, nor the last. No one will come 
to your aid. They will barely hear you in the bar, but only if you 
scream very loudly. Even so, they will not bother to investigate. It is 
illegal just to be here. Perhaps they will tell themselves it is none 
of their affair, or reason that your scream is, after all, one of 
bliss. Try it, rubia. Scream as loud as you can, why don't you?"

For a helpless moment Ruth stared at the cruel Latin face above her. 
The she shoved him and ran to the door, twisting the knob, beating on 
the door, putting her face to it and screaming with all her might until 
her throat felt raw.

"What?" Pico taunted. "No United States Cavalry to the rescue?"

"You animal! You filthy animal!"

"Now that's the spirit," Pico said, looking up as he went on removing 
his shoes and socks. "Get angry. Get fighting mad. If there's anything 
I hate, it's a spineless gringa who just falls over and plays dead 
while she is being fucked. Make me rape you, rubia! Fight me with every 
ounce of your being!"



Chapter 5


Her mind dulled by the drug, Ruth flattened herself against the door, 
watching Pico come toward her, naked and ready. His eyes glinted evilly 
and his lips curled into more of a sneer than a smile. But his face 
wouldn't hold her gaze. The most threatening part of him stood out 
boldly from his brown muscular body, and it was there that Ruth finally 
locked her faintly blurred gaze.

Gasping at the size of his rock-hard cock -- it was at least two inches 
longer and a half inch thicker than the only prick she'd ever seen -- 
Ruth shook her head and let out a tiny moan.

"No ... please don't."

He said nothing, just chuckled and came on toward her, his rod swaying 
stiffly from side to side.

When he stopped in front of her, so close she could feel his hot breath 
on her face, Ruth looked up at him. Her upper lip trembled. Fear shone 
in her pleading eyes as his fingers hooked over the neck of her dress.

"No."

He ripped away the front of her dress with one quick jerk, causing her 
to fall forward. Her tits flattened against his hard chest. His cock 
pressed into her soft stomach, feeling all hot and hard.

"Oh, my God! No!" She jumped away, turning sideways and cringing 
against the door.

"Stand up straight. Look at me."

"Go to hell!"

"You shouldn't talk to me that way, rubia."

His voice sounded amused. Ruth hated him all the more for it. "I'd die 
before I'd give in to you!"

"You are a proud bitch, aren't you? Good. I like your haughty manner. 
It will make it more pleasurable for me."

"I'll give you no pleasure," Ruth hissed, trying to sound brave but 
feeling anything but bravery at the moment.

"We'll see. Now stand up straight and look at me."

"No, damn you ... NO!"

"Don't curse me. I won't tolerate my women cursing me."

"I'm not your woman. I despise you!"

"That will change shortly," Pico said, then he grunted as he kicked her 
ass and sent her sprawling face down on the floor.

He stood over her, gloating as she struggled to sit up, sobbing and 
backing away, the fear so strong in her now that it could almost be 
smelled. She scooted across the floor, finally backing herself into a 
corner in her futile attempt to get away from him.

This can't be real! she thought. I'm having a horrible nightmare!

The drug caused everything she perceived to be distorted. The sounds, 
even her own voice, had an unreal ring. It was impossible for her to 
focus clearly. The very center of her field of vision was fairly sharp, 
but the surrounding area was fuzzy, like an out-of-focus movie scene at 
the beginning of a flashback. Her body felt numb and uncoordinated. Her 
brain refused to help her. It took in her fear, acknowledged the need 
to act, but was too sluggish to function properly.

Even the pain in her ass seemed unreal. It was a dull pain, exactly 
like it belonged in a dream. But she knew it was no dream. Her mind was 
trying to lie to her. She couldn't let that happen. Too much was at 
stake. She couldn't let the two-legged animal standing over her and 
laughing at her have his way. He was real -- not a monster in a 
horrible dream -- and he intended to rape her! She had to resist -- to 
prevent it at all costs!

Summoning every bit of strength she could muster, Ruth leaped to her 
feet and clawed viciously at his handsome face. Through the veil of 
tears covering her eyes, she saw her fingernails bring ugly red streaks 
down both sides of his dark face. His smug expression was gone. He 
yelled, cursed in his native language, slapped her small hands away. 
She started to laugh crazily, thinking that she'd rebuffed him 
sufficiently to dampen his lust. Then the breath whooshed from her 
lungs as his fist buried deep into her guts.

Numb, her insides churning and burning from the force of his blow, Ruth 
slumped to the floor, a pain-racked groan escaping her open mouth. She 
lay there piteously, sobbing and desperately gulping for air, her body 
being jerked ignominiously about as Pico ripped away her slip and bra. 
She could barely hear him cursing her, and then cursing her panties 
which refused to tear.

His voice came from high above her. "Take your panties off."

"No!"

"Take them off or I'll kick your teeth out!"

She saw his foot draw back and aim at her face. There was no choice but 
to do as he demanded. Quickly she rolled to her other side, keeping her 
back to him as she slipped her panties off and kicked them away.

"Turn over. I want to look at you."

Something deep inside her ached terribly from the brutal blow he'd 
floored her with, and it was still very difficult for her to breathe. 
She didn't dare resist him any longer. Her brain, though dull, 
functioned well enough to know he would stop at nothing to have his 
way. All her spunk was gone. She detested what was happening, abhorred 
the thought of him using her body; but she retained enough common sense 
to rationalize her plight.

Being raped is a horrible thing, she thought, but it isn't nearly as 
horrible as being beaten to death!

Accepting her fate reluctantly, wanting to get it over with so he'd go 
away and leave her alone, Ruth shut her eyes and rolled obediently to 
her back. She could feel his hot gaze moving over her body, and it sent 
a wave of revulsion through her.

"You are a true blonde ... one of the few I've ever seen. I like it. 
Your bush is quite hairy for a blonde. A very attractive pussy indeed. 
Spread your legs. Let me see if your lips are as pink as your nipples."

As her mind screamed a silent protest, Ruth spread her legs so he could 
examine her.

"Wider."

She spread her legs until the cords connecting her thighs to her body 
stood out tautly -- wishing she could faint so she wouldn't be aware of 
what was happening to her. Then he touched her with his foot, probing 
into her with his big toe, pulling her open. She fought the reflex to 
jerk away, knowing if she did it would probably earn her a kick right 
at her most tender part.

"Yes, a very attractive pussy, all in all. The lips are not as pink as 
your nipples, but I like them. They should feel nice and tight around 
me. Why are they so hot and slick, rubia? Do you feel passion already? 
Perhaps the show you witnessed had this effect on you?"

Oh, good Lord! she thought. What a filthy animal he is!

But she said, "Get it over with. Do what you want and go away. Please 
get it over with!"

"Ahhh. You do feel desire."

"No! I feel nothing but disgust!" she shouted.

"Don't raise your voice to me again," he said coldly.

The pain inside her was ebbing away. She could breathe normally again. 
Do I dare? she wondered. I could kick his testicles and maybe stun him 
long enough to beat him unconscious with that heavy ash tray.

She opened her eyes and looked up at his face. It was too far away. All 
she could see was a blur. But his big cock was closer, and she saw it 
clearly. His scrotum, too, hanging between his legs and swaying as he 
toyed at her clitoris with his big toe.

Stop it. It doesn't feel good. I can't let it feel good!

But it did; and she squirmed reflexively.

Kick his balls, she told herself. Quickly, while there is still time! 
But I can't ... he's standing between my legs and I can't kick him! His 
balls are big -- like his penis. It would really hurt him if I could 
just get my foot into position to kick them. But I can't. Damn it ... I 
can't get at them!

He bent over her, still standing between her legs and making it 
impossible for her to kick his vulnerable organs. His fingers bit into 
her upper arms as he grabbed her roughly and jerked her to her knees. 
The head of his cock pushed hotly at her tightly clamped lips. Frantic, 
she turned her head, feeling the clear fluid his passion had caused 
streak across her soft cheek.

"Kiss it. Kiss my cock."

"I'd rather die!" she wailed.

He snorted, then grabbed a handful of her hair and lifted her, 
screaming, to her feet, bringing their faces close together. His eyes 
were angry slits boring into hers. Then he smiled and shoved her toward 
the bed.

Her legs couldn't move fast enough to keep up with her body. She 
tumbled to the hard floor and slid part way under the bed before she 
stopped. He was at her instantly, grabbing her ankle and dragging her 
from beneath the bed, her tits and palms squeaking on the worn 
linoleum.

"I'm through toying with you. Get up. Get on the bed."

Ruth struggled to her feet. Trying to stall for time, she asked, "Do 
you want me to take off my stockings and garter belt?"

He took his cock in one hand and Ruth's left nipple in the other, 
squeezing both until she was whimpering with pain.

"You're hurting me!"

He twisted her tender pink bud, pulling down as he did, forcing her 
once again into a kneeling position before him.

"Ohhh ... don't! Please don't."

"Kiss my cock or I'll twist your tit off!"

The intense pain in her nipple made Ruth do as he said. She brought her 
full lips quickly to the blood-engorged head of his cock and kissed it.

"Lick it."

She hesitated; but when he twisted her abused nipple harder, she let 
her lips part and licked his hot glans. His hand cupped the back of her 
head and pulled her mouth forward, sending his bulging knob between her 
teeth and over her rapidly retreating tongue. It bumped the back of her 
throat, making her gag and choke.

His dick left her mouth as quickly as it had entered. His hands hooked 
under her arms and lifted her from the floor. Ruth couldn't see 
anything. Her eyes were full of tears from the awful pain in her tit 
and the gagging and choking his cock had caused. She felt him toss her 
into the air, and she gasped at the helpless falling sensation. Then 
she hit the bed, the mattress sagging with her weight and the springs 
groaning in protest.

The old bed was still bouncing when Pico leaped on it and covered her 
body with his. His knees worked between hers, forcing her legs apart.

"Oh, dear God!" Ruth moaned, feeling his hot, hard glans probe at her 
vulva.

She squirmed in an effort to evade him, sobbing and beating at his 
shoulders as fast and hard as she could.

"That's it," he panted. "Fight. Fight me, rubia!"

"Animal ... you miserable animal," she moaned, raking her fingernails 
across his back so harshly it hurt her fingers.

"Aargh! Again!"

When she realized her scratching was bringing him more pleasure than 
pain, she buried her face into the crook of his neck and bit with all 
her might. His glans pressed into her hairy opening, dilating her, 
stretching her painfully. She bit him harder.

He screamed, suddenly hunching forward, filling her completely as he 
lunged in to the very hilt. His heavy balls made a splatting noise as 
they arched forward and hit into the crack of her ass.

Ruth sucked in her breath raggedly, quivering from head to toe as the 
searing pain from his brutal thrust raced through her. She knew he'd 
ripped her apart with his thick cock. The whole room spun dizzily 
around. She clenched her hands into tight fists, lying beneath him 
docilely now, biting her lip against the pain in her loins. Her chest 
heaved as she fought desperately for air. Her eyes clenched firmly 
shut, she threw back her head and rolled it from side to side, sobbing 
and gasping.

"Hot," Pico sighed contentedly. "So hot and tight!"

Ruth refused the kiss he tried to give her. She jerked her head to the 
side and snarled, feeling his mouth cover her ear and his tongue lick 
wetly inside it. It sent a chill up her spine. She could feel the head 
of his rod deep inside her belly. Never had Elliott penetrated her so 
thoroughly. His ass began moving in a tiny circle, causing his glans to 
flip maddeningly at her cervix.

All too soon her pain was gone. She wished it back, preferring it to 
the new sensations rushing in to take its place. Wetly, his tongue 
worked snakelike in her ear, affecting Ruth despite her resolve to 
ignore it. She tried hard to ignore his tongue, but she couldn't; nor 
could she ignore the incessant massage his cockhead was giving the 
mouth of her womb. It was too much for her. Before she realized it she 
was rolling her hips along with his, rubbing her awakening clitoris at 
the sharp bone under his pummeling pubic mound.

Stop it! her conscience barked.

But I can't help it ... he's raping me, her body protested.

You don't have to like it, her conscience snapped back. Only whores 
like it! Lie quietly, the way you usually do with Elliott!

"Wha-What are you doing?" Ruth gasped, looking up at Pico's lust-racked 
face, struggling to keep him from pinning her hands helplessly to the 
mattress.

He chuckled, easily forcing her arms to the bed on either side of her 
body and holding them there. "The preliminaries are over. I think 
you're ready to be fucked now. Give me a good ride, rubia."

She groaned as his cock began thrusting with long, slow strokes. He was 
right, she knew. She was ready -- more ready than she'd ever been in 
her whole life! But she wouldn't let herself enjoy it. She couldn't 
permit that! It was unthinkable! A decent woman just couldn't find rape 
to be a thrilling experience!

"My husband will kill you."

"You scare me," he said, smiling down at her frightened face.

"You'll go to prison. Stop ... stop right now and I won't tell my 
husband or the police."

"That's very kind of you ... but no. I won't stop until I've given you 
a bellyful of my sperm."

His cock was stroking faster now, setting her loins on fire as he 
plunged deep into her with long, rhythmic movements.

Oh, God, Ruth thought, it is good. I can't help myself. He's so 
masterful -- so big and hard and hot.

Stop it! her conscience demanded.

"I can't," she moaned back.

"I can't!"

"You can't what?"

"Huh?"

"What is it that you can't?"

"Oh good Lord!" she gasped, realizing that she'd spoken aloud, ashamed 
for forgetting herself, wondering how much she'd said.

She looked up at him. He was smirking down at her, enjoying her 
confusion and helplessness.

"You bastard!"

He laughed.

With a last effort which she knew wouldn't succeed, Ruth tried to 
wrench her arms free and force him from her. It only amused him. He 
held her almost effortlessly, going right on filling her weeping cunt 
again and again.

"You dirty bastard," she groaned, falling back and giving up her fight.

Like lightning, he released her hand long enough to slap her a stinging 
blow on the face, then pinned her arm again before she could move it.

"You -- you --"

"Consider that a warning. Curse me again and I won't let you off so 
easy."

Ruth sniffed and blinked her eyes.

He fucked her in silence for more than a minute, the bed creaking and 
singing raspily. Ruth stared up at him all the while, trying not to let 
the sensations in her loins get out of hand again. His slap had driven 
them out and sobered her somewhat, and she wanted to keep it that way. 
But it was impossible. His big cock made entirely too much friction as 
it stroked back and forth through her swollen cunt lips. Soon she was 
responding again, thinking how handsome he really was.

When he lowered his face to kiss her, she didn't turn away. She let him 
press his surprisingly soft and warm lips to hers as his cock dipped 
rapidly to the very depths of her vagina. She shut her eyes and closed 
off her conscience, allowing his tongue to force her lips and teeth 
apart and enter her mouth.

His tongue tasted strongly of tobacco. Ordinarily she hated even the 
smell of tobacco. But now, because of the spears of pleasure his 
plunging cock sent careening through her, she found the taste not at 
all offensive. She licked back at his invading tongue, letting it fill 
her mouth until she was moaning softly and sucking it.

"It's getting good to you?"

"No," she lied.

"Oh, you're a stubborn one, rubia."

Then he was kissing her again, more passionately this time, his tongue 
whipping at hers, teasing it into his mouth. Losing all sense of shame, 
Ruth stuck her tongue deep into his moist mouth and whimpered softly as 
he sucked it.

"Ahhh. Now that's better ... much better!"

"I hate you," Ruth said weakly, bringing her legs up and locking her 
ankles over his hunching ass.

"You have a very nice way of showing it."

"Mmm ... hate you," she sighed, throwing her pelvis up to him, jerking 
him into her with her legs.

"Is it good?"

"Uh-huh. Good ... oh damn!"

He laughed.

"Turn my arms loose ... please!"

"You promise not to scratch?"

"I won't scratch. I want to hold you ... please let me hold you."

As soon as he released her hands, Ruth threw her arms around his back 
and hugged him fiercely. She felt as if she'd lost her mind. But it 
didn't matter. Nothing in the world mattered except the fantastic 
feelings churning in her steaming loins. It was so very sinful and 
wicked, but Oh God, she thought, is it ever good!

"Darling ... oh, darling," she moaned, sliding her damp palms over his 
back as she kissed him wildly.

Over his shoulder she could see Elliott slumped on the couch. She 
didn't want to see Elliott at the moment -- didn't want to think about 
him even. She knew she'd hate herself when this wonderful moment was 
over, but for the present she wanted to enjoy it to the fullest. She 
shut her eyes to close out her husband as well as the rest of the 
world. Nothing mattered -- nothing but the thrill of Pico's big, sweet 
cock jabbing so hotly at her.

Clinging to him, sucking his tongue, she moved with him as if they were 
of one mind. The tempo grew faster and faster as they drew near orgasm. 
It got better and better. Sweat broke out on Ruth's abdomen, the 
dampness making slapping sounds as Pico's stomach hit hers with rapid-
fire action.

"Ohhhh ... oh God!"

"Hunch me, baby. Stay with me."

"Ouuu ... ouuu," Ruth crooned, throwing her cunt up to meet his 
inrushing prick, licking absently at her puffy lips.

"Is it good?" Pico grunted. "Tell me how good!"

"Hooo ... oh, Pico! Darling man!"

His hands moved under her and cupped her working buttocks, holding her 
to him as he ground his pelvis harshly against hers. The head of his 
cock stirred her guts delightfully, sending waves of pure pleasure 
washing out to every nerve in her body.

"Wonderful!" she shrieked, unlocking her ankles and letting her legs 
fall to the bed, digging her heels into the mattress and grinding her 
pelvis at him. "Big cock ... oh, what a big, sweet cock!"

Pico let his body fall on hers, his chest mashing her tits flat as he 
jarred her intestines with his fully inserted cock. He grunted and 
groaned, then sucked in his breath and bit the side of her neck.

His teeth were sharp, causing her a great deal of pain as he chewed her 
flesh and made little animalistic sounds in his throat. She whimpered 
mournfully, writhing beneath him, still grinding her cunt at him as she 
grabbed the tensed cheeks of his ass. Her fingernails dug into his 
buttocks. She jerked at him frantically. His cock was twitching and 
throbbing inside her seething cunt, his nuts drawing up tight against 
his body. Nothing had ever felt better to her. She knew he was hanging 
on the verge of orgasm, just as she herself was. She wanted him to cum 
-- wanted desperately to feel his thick cock jerking deep inside her 
belly.

"Come, darling! Come, come, come!!"

His hands moved up her back, his fingers hooking over her shoulders and 
pulling her clitoris down roughly against the top of his dick.

"Mmmm ... mmm!"

"Rubia!"

"I'm ready! Shoot it ... oh, shoot it!"

He grunted, mashed her ass deep into the mattress and held her there, 
his cock jerking wildly.

"Ohhh," she moaned. "Oh, shit!"

She pulled her legs up until her feet were almost to ass level and her 
soles were flat on the mattress. Using the strength of her leg muscles, 
she pushed up, lifting her ass from the bed, holding there, supporting 
his body with her upthrust pelvis. She shuddered from head to toe as 
the first jet of hot sperm blew from his dancing cockhead and washed 
over the mouth of her convulsing womb.

Then every ounce of strength left her as her own orgasm burst within 
her loins. It was a blinding flash of unbearable joy. She screamed 
shrilly, falling back to the bed, her body twitching and jerking as he 
shot jet after jet of his copious load into her. Her hands held 
tremblingly to his hard butt, keeping his spurting glans pulled snugly 
into her sensitive cervix, every nerve in her sweat-soaked body 
thrilling as his hot cum sprayed into her. Her legs flailed weakly.

She sobbed brokenly through it all, then lay exhausted and spread-
eagled as he pulled out and got off the bed.

A mass of cum oozed from her stretched pussy and trickled warmly down 
the crack of her quivering ass. Ruth shut her eyes, feeling disgust 
rise within her now that the heat of her insane lust was past. She felt 
soiled, totally unworthy of her decent husband and her position in 
life. A sick feeling swept over her as she realized nothing would ever 
be the same again. Poor Elliott, she thought. He must never know. How 
could I have responded to that animal? How can I live with the 
knowledge of my sin? Dear God ... help me ... help me bear the heavy 
burden of this wicked night!

* * *


A hand was on her shoulder, shaking her, a voice calling as if from a 
distance. "Wake up, rubia."

Ruth opened her eyes. Pico's smug face loomed above her. "What are you 
doing still here? How long have I slept?"

"About fifteen minutes is all. You know, you're not a bad fuck ... for 
a gringa, that is."

"Drop dead! Go away. You got what you wanted ... now go away and leave 
me alone!"

"I am going away. It's time for me to return to Panama."

"Good. Have a rotten trip!"

"Don't wish me any bad luck. You're going with me."

"You're out of your mind. I wouldn't go to a dog fight with you."

"I'm not asking you to go. I'm taking you."

"What?"

"You are going to be one of my women ... and a special one, at that."

"Wha ... wha-what are you talking about?"

"You're a whore now, rubia. My whore. You liked my cock so well that 
I've decided to take you to Panama and put you in my whorehouse. You'll 
get lots of cock there ... miles and miles of it."

"You're insane," Ruth gasped, sitting up and cringing away, seeing the 
others for the first time. "Oh my God!"

Faustina and the Negro were sitting on the couch beside Elliott, who 
was still unconscious. Both of them were smiling at her. Carlos stood 
just inside the door, looking quite pale and nervous, his sheepish eyes 
refusing to meet her gaze. Ruth tried to cover her breasts and cunt 
with her hands.

"Here. Put this on," Pico said, tossing a faded old dressing gown at 
her.

She slipped it on, buttoning what buttons where left intact with 
shaking fingers. "I'm not going anywhere with you! Get out of here! All 
of you!"

Pico grabbed her hair and dragged her across the bed. He slapped her 
hard, backhanded her, kept it up until she was crying and sniveling and 
docile.

"You'll do as I say, puta! I am your master now. The sooner you accept 
that fact the better off you'll be!"

"I'd rather die," Ruth sobbed. "Oh, God ... I'd rather die!"

"That can be arranged," Pico said coldly, reaching into his pocket, 
coming out with a wicked-looking switchblade and snapping it open. He 
pressed the knife blade threateningly against Ruth's throat. "Decide!"

"Oh, dear God!"

Carlos gasped. His mouth dropped open. He started toward the bed, then 
stopped and turned his back.

"Well?" Pico demanded. "Which is it, rubia? You may live and be my 
whore, or I'll slit your throat ... if that's what you really want. 
Decide!"

"I don't want to die," she begged, her large eyes pleading up at him. 
"Don't hurt me ... please don't cut me!"

"Then you choose to be my whore?"

The sharp edge of the knife blade pressed at her skin. There was no 
time for indecision. Any life, even that of a whore, was better than no 
life. Ruth gulped, nodding her head carefully, shutting her eyes, 
feeling the scalding-hot tears of humiliation stream down her cheeks.

"Say it. Tell me!"

"Your whore," she gasped. "I'll be your whore."

Instantly the knife left her throat. "A wise choice," Pico said calmly, 
shutting the knife and putting it back into his pocket.

"There was no choice," she moaned. "And you know it."

He laughed, extending his hand and helping her from the bed. "Come, 
meet my sister and Jose. Faustina ... Jose ... this is rubia our new 
puta."

Jose and Faustina nodded, both of them looking her up and down but 
saying nothing. Ruth cringed at the gleam in Faustina's dark-brown 
eyes. They shone with interest, glinted with cruelty. Jose was very 
black and big, a giant Negro with an Afro haircut which made his head 
appear twice as big as it really was. He was all muscle, his turtleneck 
shirt clinging to his tapering torso like a second skin.

"Jose is a mute. He understands only Spanish but can't speak or write. 
He is my personal body guard. Strong as a bull, that one is ... with a 
cock like a mule!"

"You're very beautiful," Faustina said.

Ruth shivered. "Thank you."

"As beautiful as this delicate morsel," Faustina went on, holding up a 
snapshot. "In a more mature sort of way, of course."   ~-

Ruth felt the room do a double flip-flop. "That's my daughter," she 
blurted. "Where did you get that picture?"

The evil smile swept back over Faustina's face, and Ruth knew she'd 
made a terrible mistake. She saw Elliott's wallet on the cushion beside 
Faustina. "Paula's at home," she said quickly. "In Tulsa."

"You lie, puta," Faustina taunted.

"No. No, I didn't. Paula's at home ... going to summer school. She 
couldn't come with us because she had to make up a subject."

"I'll take the wheep to you if you're lying to Faustina," she said 
happily.

"Enough," Pico barked. "We must go."

"My car is waiting at the back," Carlos said, his voice breaking. "I 
got rid of their taxi driver ... like you said."

"Bueno. This will extend your time to six months, Carlos," Pico said. 
Then he turned to Jose. "Carry the man out to the car. Carlos will 
drive up to the airport."

Jose picked Elliott up as easily as if he were a child, carrying him in 
his arms and following Carlos into the hall.

"Come, rubia," Faustina ordered, dangling the key to their motel room 
before Ruth's face. "We will stop for your clothing ... and see if you 
were lying to me."



Chapter 6


The car sat in a darkened corner of the motel parking lot. Elliott 
slumped in the back seat, breathing rhythmically as he slept.

Ruth was in the front seat, flanked by Carlos and Faustina. Carlos 
squirmed and smoked constantly, lighting one cigarette from the butt of 
each previous one. Faustina held a gun in her right hand, hiding it 
with a sweater, keeping the muzzle poked threateningly into Ruth's 
side.

Her eyes shut, her hands clasped together, Ruth prayed silently that 
Pico and Jose would not discover Paula in the room adjoining hers and 
Elliott's. She couldn't remember whether Elliott had shut the door 
after they'd gone in to tell Paula good night, but she hoped he had -- 
she hoped to God he had!

Please, Lord, let the door be shut... let it be locked on Paula 's side 
-- please, please, please! Those awful men are up there now. Don't let 
them get my baby in their evil clutches too!

* * *


Pico slipped the key into the lock, turned it, then opened the door 
slowly and moved quietly into the darkened motel room. Jose followed 
him inside, moving even more quietly than Pico despite his large size. 
After determining there was only one bed, and that it was empty, Pico 
switched on a lamp and motioned for Jose to close the door.

The rooms were all adjoining, like some American motels, but both doors 
were closed. Pico found the suitcases and put them on the bed, opened, 
motioning for Jose to fill them with Ruth and Elliott's clothing from 
the drawers and closet. Then, as Jose began packing, he moved to one of 
the doors and checked it. It was locked. He crossed the room to the 
other door and grasped the knob, finding it locked too.

"It looks like rubia was telling the truth," he said, more to himself 
than to Jose, for he'd spoken in English.

Then he spoke in Spanish, louder, telling Jose to hurry up and be sure 
to get all the clothing. He wanted no traces left behind, nothing which 
would arouse suspicion. Ruth and Elliott would simply disappear and 
never be heard from again. Carlos had agreed to see that their car was 
conveniently "stolen," and that it, too, should disappear. Carlos would 
profit handsomely from that, Pico knew; for once the car was repainted 
and the identifying markings removed, it could be taken to Mexico City 
and sold with no questions asked. Carlos had promised to give Pico the 
money from the illegal sale, as partial payment on what he owed. But 
Pico wasn't concerned about Carlos paying up. He knew he would manage 
to get the money together in time. He was too scared to refuse.

"Carlos is like a pollo," he said, laughing.

Jose glanced at him and grinned, nodding his head. He'd understood only 
two words -- Carlos and chicken -- but it was enough to give him the 
meaning of Pico's spoken thought. Still looking at Pico, Jose pulled 
too hard on the dresser drawer he was opening. It came completely out; 
and in his attempt to catch it before it fell to the floor, he 
overreacted and set the light drawer banging loudly against the wall.

Startled by the sudden noise, Paula jerked awake and sat up in bed. For 
a moment she didn't know where she was, and her heart beat faster as 
she glanced around the strange room in an effort to orient her sleep-
dulled mind.

Then she relaxed, remembering all. Her parents were back from their 
night on the town. She could hear movement in their room. Wondering 
which one of those bright, wild paintings her father had bought, and 
wanting to kiss them both good night, she slid from her bed and slipped 
on her robe. She padded barefoot across the room and unlocked the 
connecting door, swung it open and went through it, rubbing her eyes. 
She was well into the room when she noticed the dark, lean man and the 
big muscular Negro looking at her. Gasping, she clutched her robe 
tightly around her neck and stopped.

Pico, thinking and acting very quickly, smiled and said, "You must be 
Paula."

"Yes," she answered, staring at him in utter confusion. "How did you 
know my name? What are you doing in here? This is my parents' room."

"Your parents," Pico said, stalling for time as his mind groped for a 
way to calm her and keep her from calling out.

Paula was much too young and naive to be as frightened as she should 
have been. She said. "Yes, my parents."

"Your parents ... Ruth and ..."

"Elliott. Ruth and Elliott Strickland."

"Yes. Strickland. I'm sorry I could not recall their full names."

"What are you doing with their things?" she gasped, just noticing what 
was going on. "Who are you?"

"Don't be alarmed, Paula," Pico soothed.

"But you're packing their things! What are you doing that for? Has 
something happened to them?"

"Yes. I'm afraid so."

"An accident! They haven't had an accident?"

Smiling inwardly at the unintentional help she'd given him, but forcing 
his face to look concerned and serious, Pico nodded.

"Oh, no! What happened?"

"The taxi in which they were riding was struck by another car. Now 
don't become alarmed, Paula. Calm yourself, my child."

"They're hurt! How bad are they hurt? They're not dead ... tell me 
they're not dead!"

"No, no, no," he said, moving to her and putting his hands on her 
quaking shoulder. "They are going to be fine. They are shaken up pretty 
badly though. They'll be in the hospital a couple of days. They are 
there now. That's why Jose and I are here ... to take their things to 
them."

"I'm going too," Paula said.

"Of course you are, my child. I've arranged to have a bed for you put 
into your mother's room. She insisted on it."

"I'll get dressed, Mr... ."

"Pico. Just call me Pico."

"You'll wait for me, Pico?"

"Certainly. And, Paula," he called, stopping her in the doorway. "Pack 
your things."

"All of them?"

He nodded. "Everything. You won't be coming back to this motel."

"I'll hurry."

"Please do."

Paula shut the door, not bothering to lock it now that she knew the men 
were there to help. She laid out the things she would wear, then got 
her suitcase and began packing.

Jose stood beside the bed, neglecting his duties, staring after Paula.

Pico noticed the gleam in his eyes, the lustful yet tender expression 
on his face. He also noticed the bulge in his trousers. A new act for 
the sex show put on nightly in his large whorehouse was immediately 
born in his mind. It would be a very erotic act, what with Jose so big 
and black and Paula so small and blonde. And so young and tender, too. 
A mock rape, he thought, smiling, pleased with himself as the scene 
unfolded in his mind. Or a real rape, if Paula wouldn't go along 
willingly with his idea.

At any rate, Jose would go along. He'd do anything Pico told him to do. 
Pico grinned. The act would be perfect to precede Ruth and the donkey 
waiting for her in the shed behind his place.

"Do you like the girl, Jose?" he asked in Spanish.

Still looking longingly at the door Paula had gone through, Jose nodded 
and motioned as if taking her in his muscular arms.

"Then you shall have her, my friend ... every night."

Grinning broadly, Jose nodded and rubbed the growing bulge his massive 
prick was causing. He made sign language to indicate he wanted Paula 
all to himself.

"No, Jose. The girl will have to take care of customers too."

Jose looked disappointed but acquiescent.

"You can't keep her all to yourself. She will be very popular with the 
customers, especially the older ones. But when we are closed and there 
are no customers to pay for her, then you may have her."

Jose pointed to the bed. He pretended to hold Paula in his arms, 
shutting his eyes as if sleeping.

"Of course, my friend," Pico said. "Every night if you wish it."

Obviously very happy with the promised arrangement, Jose went eagerly 
back to packing Ruth and Elliott's things.

Fully dressed and ready to leave, Paula reentered the room, struggling 
with her heavy suitcase. Pico sat calmly in a chair, smoking a thin, 
black cigar. The packing finished, Jose was bird-dogging the door, 
waiting impatiently for it to open. Paula was barely into the room when 
he rushed to her and, smiling, took the suitcase from her hand.

"Thank you," Paula said, returning his smile as best she could in her 
worried state of mind. His face wasn't at all handsome, what with his 
broad nose and thick lips, but he seemed very pleasant and helpful. "I 
didn't get your name."

"His name is Jose," Pico said, rising.

"Thank you, Jose."

Jose beamed, smiling and nodding, looking directly into her blue eyes.

"He can't answer you, Paula. Jose is a mute, and he understands only 
Spanish."

"Oh, the poor man!" Paula gushed. "And he seems so nice."

Pico grinned. He picked up both suitcases and handed them to Jose, who 
put one under his arm so he could carry all three. Pico strode to the 
door and opened it, holding it and motioning Paula to come as Jose led 
the way. He offered his arm. Paula took it, switching her purse to her 
other hand and thinking how gallant Latin men were. Holding to his 
reassuring arm, anxious to get to her injured parents, Paula hurried 
along beside Pico as they crossed the motel parking lot.

"I feel so sorry for Jose."

Pico patted her hand, then locked his fingers through hers and led her 
on toward the waiting car.

Holding his hand was more reassuring than holding his arm. Paula 
squeezed it gratefully, half running now to keep up with his long-
strided gait. "I hope my mother's face wasn't hurt. She's got such a 
pretty face."

"There's not a scratch on her face."

"I'm relieved to hear that ... I really am. Just how bad are they 
hurt?" she asked as they drew near Carlos' car. "Were you in the wreck 
too? I saw your face was hurt."

"You ask too many questions," he said, stepping quickly behind her and 
clapping his hand over her mouth as he jerked her arm painfully and 
bent it up her back.

His action was fast; the pain sharp. For a stunned second Paula didn't 
understand. She whimpered and struggled, her feet off the ground and 
kicking the air. Jose had the door open. Paula's head bumped the top of 
the car as Pico stuffed her into the back seat. The impact addled her, 
made her dizzy and numb. She moaned softly as she hit the seat and fell 
against her father.

"Paula! Paula!" Ruth yelled shrilly. "Oh, my God ... Paula!"

A loud splat sounded as Faustina slapped Ruth viciously. "Shut up, 
puta! Shut up or I'll kill you! Carlos! Open the trunk! Help Jose put 
the bags in ... quickly! "

"Daddy ... Mommy! What is it! What's happening? They told me you were 
in an acci-"

Pico was in the seat beside Paula, jerking her head back by her long 
blonde hair, clapping his hand over her mouth even as the door slammed 
shut. "Shut up, little one. Not another peep out of you!"

Frantic, Paula tried in vain to claw and elbow and kick.

"No, Paula! Don't," Ruth begged. "He'll kill you if you don't do as he 
says!"

"Listen to your mother, little one, and no harm will come to you."

Her eyes wide, extremely frightened, Paula nodded. The grip eased on 
her hair. She sighed into the tobacco-scented hand covering her mouth 
and nose.

"What are you going to do with her?" Ruth asked fearfully.

"Her fate is the same as yours, rubia. I haven't decided about your 
husband yet."

"Let them go," Ruth begged, looking pleadingly into the back seat.

Carlos got in and started the car. Jose got in the back seat on the 
other side of Elliott, pushing him over, crowding Paula tightly between 
her unconscious father and Pico's hard body. The back door thumped 
shut. Carlos backed the car around, then drove cautiously from the 
parking lot.

"Please, please let my daughter and husband go," Ruth cried, watching 
the motel fade into the distance behind the accelerating car. "You've 
got me. I'll do anything you say ... anything! Only for God's sake let 
my husband and child alone!"

"Faustina," Pico said calmly. "Silence la rubia."

Delighted with her assignment, Faustina stiffened her open hand and 
gave Ruth a sharp judo chop at the base of her skull.

Ruth's head jerked. Her eyes snapped shut. She slumped limply against 
Faustina.

"Perhaps we'd better give this one the same treatment," Pico said, 
pushing Paula forward, bending her so Faustina could chop the back of 
her neck too.

But as Faustina's hand lifted for the blow, Jose jumped forward and 
grabbed her arm. He looked over Paula's back at Pico, his eyes 
pleading.

"All right," Pico said. "But you'll have to hold her and keep her 
quiet. One more word out of her and she gets the same treatment rubia 
got."

Jose nodded, picking Paula up and lifting her, putting her in his lap 
with her legs across her father's lap.

Paula screamed and kicked. Then her teeth rattled as Jose shook her 
violently. Stark fear showing in her eyes, her mouth hanging open in 
shock, Paula cringed in his lap and glanced up at his face. He was 
smiling, putting his finger to his lips, then to hers, then wagging it 
no. She felt the warmth of his body, saw an even greater warmth in his 
eyes. Sobbing bitterly, she buried her face in his chest and clung to 
him.

The car raced on toward the airport, Carlos driving and puffing 
nervously at his cigarette.

Paula sobbed, her chest heaving, her body jerking as she gasped for 
breath. Jose's big hands were patting and stroking her, trying to 
reassure her. Slowly, very slowly, she realized she and her parents 
were in no immediately danger. She had no idea what lay in store for 
them. But that was in the future; and at fourteen, the future is never 
as important as the present. At the present she was being held and 
comforted. Little by little her sobs diminished until she was sniffling 
and rubbing her tear-streaked face against Jose's muscular chest. His 
cheek rubbed back and forth over the top of her head, his hands 
constantly patting and stroking her back.

Finally, heaving a double sigh, Paula relaxed completely. What's wrong 
with my father?"

"Drugged," Pico said. "He'll be all right."

"My mother ... what was she talking about? What are you going to do 
with us?"

Pico glared angrily at her. "I am very weary of explanations, little 
one. Ask your mother when she wakes up. Now shut your mouth!"

Afraid to disobey Pico, but not nearly as frightened as she had been, 
Paula shut her eyes as well as her mouth. She put her cheek against 
Jose's comforting chest. His strong arms cradled her to him and he 
began to rock her like a child. It produced a pleasant sensation, a 
calmness, which she enjoyed in spite of her mind going like a computer. 

Kidnapped, she thought, we're being kidnapped!

She knew she should be horrified. But she wasn't. She was thrilled. A 
shudder swept over her, followed by a sense of exhilaration. She was in 
danger for the first time in her life, and it was ever so exciting to 
her young mind. They'd be taken to some hideout, she supposed, some 
really terrible and run-down shack.

I wonder if they'll tie us up? No, that's too corny! Beans and 
tortillas -- that's probably all they'll give us to eat while we wait 
for ransom to be arranged. I wonder how long it'll take? A day ... a 
week? Two days would be ideal, three at the most -- after that things 
would get awfully boring

Unless they raped us! Oh cripes! I wonder if they'll rape me and 
mother? Mother would just die if they did! No, I'm being silly. They've 
got a woman with them, the mean bitch! I wonder how it feels to be 
raped? It gives me the shivers to think about it. If I am raped, I hope 
Jose is the one. He's so big and black! Ohhh ... wouldn't that be 
something? He'd never do it though. I don't have to worry about that. 
He's much too kind and gentle. I like him ... even if he is a Negro.

The car turned into a private airport and pulled to a stop in front of 
the only hangar. Pico's plane, a small cargo job, old but in good 
repair, was tethered just a few feet away from the car, sitting in the 
open, gassed up and ready to go.

"Are we still going to stop in Acapulco?" Faustina asked as they 
climbed from the car.

Paula's head snapped up. "We're going to Acapulco?"

"We have to," Pico told Faustina, ignoring Paula.

"Acapulco! Oh, how groovy!"

Pico said something in Spanish, and Jose picked Paula up.

"Put me down. I can walk. Carry poor Daddy. I imagine you had to drug 
him because he put up such a fight, huh?"

Pico spoke again. Jose put Paula down and went to the car for Elliott. 
Carlos carried Ruth, still unconscious, to the plane. They boarded it 
and Pico started the engines. Carlos unhooked the plane. Pico taxied 
out to the runway, waited until the engines were warm enough, then took 
off for Acapulco.



Chapter 7


There were no seats in the back of the plane, just some sleeping bags 
and emergency food supplies. Only the cabin, where Pico and Faustina 
sat, was heated. Once the plane reached cruising altitude Paula found 
herself shivering. She got a sweater from her bag and put it on, then 
mastered sign language enough to coax Jose into helping her get 
blankets from two of the sleeping bags to cover her parents.

Elliott was still unconscious from the drug, but Ruth was awake. They 
were both bound and gagged, Faustina having come back from the cabin 
long enough to accomplish the task. Paul sat cross-legged on one of the 
sleeping bags, looking at her mother's frightened face. She'd tried to 
talk to her for a while but had finally given up when she realized Ruth 
could only mumble through her gag in answer to the questions she asked.

An expression of adoration on his coarse-featured face, Jose sat beside 
Paula. His eyes never left her for a minute. Finally he took her hand, 
smiling into her face as he locked his fingers through hers and scooted 
so close their hips touched.

Reluctant to rebuff him, Paula let Jose hold her hand. It was almost 
nice when he squeezed it affectionately and brought it to his lips. She 
wondered why her mother's eyes looked so wide and fearful at such an 
innocent action. Because Jose was such a big ugly Negro, she supposed. 
But Paula wasn't at all afraid to Jose. He did look awfully menacing, 
but in his case she felt looks were deceiving. Jose had protected and 
comforted her when she needed it, and she liked him a great deal for 
it. She'd never been prejudiced against Negroes like some of the kids 
her age. Her father had taught her to judge people as individuals -- by 
their actions rather than their race or looks.

And she found Jose to be a warm individual. He wouldn't take advantage 
of her, she felt sure. Holding his hand was a comforting thing. She 
could feel strength passing from him to her. And the way he kissed the 
back of her hand so tenderly was very reassuring. She wondered how such 
a gentle giant could be mixed up with kidnapers. Pico was obviously the 
boss of the gang, with mean Faustina taking second place. Faustina 
fascinated Paula, but she didn't like her.

Jose let go of her hand and put his arm around her shoulders. 
Stiffening slightly, Paula let him pull her body snugly against his. 
Her mother's eyes looked frantic. She was mumbling through her gag, 
trying to get up.

"What is it, Mother? Are you uncomfortable? Would you like a sleeping 
bag under you?"

Ruth shook her head, mumbled something, nodded toward Jose, then shook 
her head vigorously and mumbled some more.

"He isn't going to rape me, Mother. Is that what you think?"

Ruth nodded sharply.

"Oh, for goodness sakes. He's as kind and gentle as any man I've ever 
known. Don't be silly."

Ruth shook her head from side to side, mumbling incoherently.

Shrugging, Paula said, "Well, there's no need to worry about it. If 
Jose did want to rape me, which I'm sure he doesn't, I don't see how I 
could stop him ... do you?"

Ruth groaned and lay still.

"You're overreacting, Mother. Jose is just being nice to me ... trying 
to comfort me. That's all. We're going to Acapulco -- isn't that 
exciting? If you've got to be kidnapped, I can't think of a more exotic 
place to be taken to, can you? I don't care if it takes a whole week to 
arrange for the ransom to be paid."

Ruth began to cry.

"I'm sorry, Mother. I guess I am being childish, but this is the only 
really exciting thing that's ever happened to me. Don't worry so much. 
I don't think they'll hurt us any ... and the church is sure to raise 
the ransom money real quick. We'll be back home before you know it.

"Just think how interested everybody will be! I wish I had a notebook 
so I could write everything down. Gosh ... I can't wait to tell all my 
friends!"

Ruth shut her eyes and moaned mournfully.

"I wish she wouldn't take it so har-" Paula started to say, turning her 
head to look at Jose; but he pulled her to him and kissed her, shutting 
off her words, catching her by surprise.

Stunned by his sudden action, Paula was unable to protest instantly. 
His soft lips covered hers entirely, pressing warmly and firmly. A 
shiver was Paula's first reaction. Her heart skipped a beat, then 
thumped wildly. She'd never been kissed this way by a man. It took her 
breath and made her feel all funny in the pit of her stomach. By the 
time she'd regained her senses, she realized Jose's kiss thrilled her 
tremendously.

She pushed him away and looked blinkingly into his deep-brown eyes. 
"You shouldn't have done that, Jose."

He smiled confidently, not understanding her words; misinterpreting her 
soft, quavering voice.

Then he kissed her again, holding her tightly, flattening her breasts 
against his hard chest. His face moved constantly, his lips rolling 
hotly on hers. The tip of his tongue darted out and teased intimately 
between Paula's lips, urging them apart, coaxing her mouth open.

Her heart sounding like a tom-tom in her ears, Paula whimpered and let 
his tongue creep wetly over the sharp edges of her parting teeth. It 
rushed deep into her mouth, licking and caressing as it came. Before 
she knew what she was doing, her own tongue was licking back at his.

Catching herself, fighting the strong urge to throw her arms around his 
powerful body, Paula jerked away. She put her hands on his chest and 
held him away. She was trembling all over, her eyes clamped shut and 
her chest heaving for breath.

"Don't ... please don't, Jose," she moaned weakly.

Again it was her tone of voice and not her words that Jose responded 
to. She sounded excited and reluctant, both of which pleased him 
greatly. He tried to pull her mouth back to his.

"No!" Paula snapped, looking away from him, her eyes locking on her 
mother's tortured face.

Looking hurt, Jose followed her gaze. Then he smiled and got to his 
feet. He went to Ruth and turned her, putting her face toward the wall 
of the plane so her large eyes couldn't see Paula. He pulled the 
blanket over her head and held her firmly in position long enough to 
make her understand she was not to turn over again. Standing and 
pulling his turtleneck shirt over his head, he glanced questioningly at 
Paula.

His V-shaped torso drew her gaze and held it. She gasped at all the 
muscles and the dense patch of curly hair on his chest. His upper arms 
looked as big as her thighs, and much more powerful.

His fingers groping at his belt, Jose came toward her.

Paula threw up her hands, wagging them as well as her head.

Again Jose misunderstood. Thinking her hands were pointing at the 
lights, that she wanted them out, he strode to the cabin and opened the 
door. Using sign language, he informed Pico of his intentions and asked 
him to turn off the lights in the back of the plane.

Pico nodded approval and turned off the lights in the cargo area. In 
Spanish, not a word of which Paula understood, Pico said, "The girl is 
all yours for as long as we are in the air. Have her; enjoy her."

Also in Spanish, Faustina said, "Let me hear her scream when you enter 
her, Jose. Don't bother being gentle with her; break the little bitch 
in right! "

Smiling weakly, Paula sat huddled in a ball as Jose turned from the 
cabin. While he was shutting the door, she got a quick glance at his 
face. He looked angry for the first time since she'd met him, and Paula 
was struck numb by his distorted face. She had no way of knowing his 
anger was directed at Faustina. She thought he was angry with her for 
refusing him.

Her teeth chattering, she clutched her knees to her chest, holding her 
breath as he shut the door and cut off all light save the faint 
moonlight coming in the two small windows. Two thumps sounded as he 
kicked off his shoes. A pause, then a zipper sounded, followed by the 
rustle of clothing which she barely heard over the soft drone of the 
engines. A shadowy figure now, he padded barefoot toward her. When he 
passed the opposite window, she got a frightening glimpse of the 
swaying cock standing out from his loins. He was going to rape her. She 
was sure of that now, and the thought of his big prick pushing into her 
made her feel faint.

But she dared not refuse him again. If one refusal could make him as 
angry as he was already, what would a second rebuff do? She shuddered 
at the thought, visualizing herself beaten to a pulp with Jose getting 
what he wanted anyway.

Then he was beside her, pulling her down onto the sleeping bag, taking 
her in his arms and holding her to his nude body. His large cock, hot 
and hard and throbbing, lay between them. Paula felt a tremor sweep 
over her as the long instrument pressed intimately against her stomach. 
His lips were moving over her face, starting on her forehead and 
kissing very tenderly toward her mouth.

It was all she could do to lie still and allow him to kiss her eyes and 
nose and cheeks. His lips felt hot, and he was breathing harshly; but 
he was being gentle, and she was grateful for that. She didn't want to 
be beaten and raped. The very thought of it terrified her. He intended 
to possess her, though. There was no doubt in her mind as to what he 
wanted -- especially when his large hands cupped her asscheeks and 
pulled her pussy snug against his hard cock.

She tried to pull away. But he held her, hunching lightly as his mouth 
descended and his lips claimed hers. His mouth was open, his lips 
covering hers, his tongue probing for admittance. A tiny sigh of 
resignation sounding through her nostrils, Paula opened her mouth and 
let his wet tongue come spearing in.

They kissed for a long time. Paula's fear was driven out by the growing 
number of those strange butterflies fluttering so wildly inside her 
stomach. In a daze, she put her arm around him and began to suck 
willingly on his ever-moving tongue. His thick shaft pressed between 
the lips of her cunt, feeling hot and hard even through the thickness 
of her clothing. Soon her clitoris crept from beneath its protective 
hood and started bombarding her mind with thousands of wonderful 
sensations.

Jose kept their mouths together, pulling his tongue back slowly, 
teasing hers into his mouth, then sucking it hungrily.

Her open hand moved jerkily over his back; her loins beginning to hunch 
back at him, Paula moaned through her flared nostrils and stuck her 
tongue so deep into his mouth that she was licking at the back of his 
throat. Her boy friend back in Tulsa had never thrilled her the way 
Jose was thrilling her. With him, she'd always been in control of the 
situation. With Jose it was entirely different. He was a man; he was in 
control; he was going to fuck her -- and there was absolutely nothing 
she could do to stop him!

With Jose she felt so weak and helpless. And to her utter amazement, 
she found she liked feeling that way. She felt uneasy about liking it, 
but she did anyway. Every nerve in her young body began to sing a new 
and exciting song. Her response to Jose's passionate kisses and 
stroking hands was awfully depraved, she knew -- but she couldn't help 
it. He was so big and black, so gentle yet masterful. Very much aware 
of his blackness now, thrilled all the more because of it, Paula threw 
her leg over his hip and rubbed her cunt eagerly up and down his 
pleasure-giving cock.

And it was giving her pleasure. Her clitoris, hard and throbbing by 
this time, was being massaged ever so delightfully by the bumpy under-
surface of his thick shaft. The walls of her vagina began to secrete 
copiously, the slippery fluid seeping out and covering her swollen cunt 
lips, soaking the crotchband of her nylon panties. Her loins felt hot 
and hungry as never before. Soon she was raging with desire, wanting to 
be penetrated and made a woman, wishing Jose would hurry and take her.

And her unspoken message got across to Jose. He pulled up her dress and 
tugged her panties down her legs.

Paula kicked them off along with her shoes, then lay on her back, 
shivering as she looked up at his gentle face, letting him take the 
rest of her clothing off, rolling and lifting herself to help him.

"You won't hurt me?" she asked.

The dim moonlight shone on him. The adoration in his eyes and the 
worshipful expression on his face told her she had no cause to worry. 
She wondered dimly what he would do if she put her clothes back on and 
refused to cooperate. His eyes seemed to be full of loving tenderness. 
But she supposed he'd get angry if she rebuffed him again ... and she 
didn't like him angry. She liked him this way -- tender and passionate. 
No, she didn't want to anger him again. In fact, she didn't want to 
refuse him. The fire he'd set in her loins was a demanding thing. She 
didn't want to stall him any longer. And though she was shivering with 
fear at what lay ahead, she hungered for the experience.

Impulsively she reached out and grasped his cock, sucking in her breath 
at the size of it. Trying in vain to make her fingers encircle its 
girth, she breathed, "It's so big and hard!"

Ruth began to sob piteously, her body jerking as she lay helpless under 
the blanket.

Until her mother sobbed, Paula had completely forgotten there was 
anyone else in the world but her and Jose. She glanced at her, then at 
her unconscious father. A sense of shame swept over her. She knew it 
was wrong to let herself enjoy Jose's lovemaking. But wrong or not, 
shame or no shame, she did want him. And since he would take her, 
willing or not, she decided to hell with the shame, determining to make 
the most of a situation she had no power to direct.

Then there was no time to think, because Jose was bending over her and 
loving her in three places. His hand covered her tit, massaging it, 
tweaking her hard pink nipple as his mouth and tongue worked warm and 
wet at her other nipple. His hand was between her thighs, stroking her, 
brushing her cunt, rubbing it.

With him doing all that, it was an easy matter for her to close her 
ears to her mother's sobs. She gripped his feverish dick tightly, 
squeezing it and moving her hand up and down by instinct. Her other 
hand came up to his head. She moaned softly, rubbing his mass of kinky 
hair, pulling his mouth firmly over her tit.

Slowly his hand moved up her thigh and cupped her cunt. Fingers worked 
her open, making room for another finger which slid between her spread 
cunt lips and bumped her hymen. She jerked reflexively, then caught 
herself and pushed back at the invading finger. It hurt very little as 
it slipped deep into her moist vagina. Paula sighed with relief, 
thinking her hymen had been broken and wondering why girls lied about 
it hurting so much.

But her membrane was not broken, as she thought. It was merely 
stretched a little and pushed to the side.

As Jose's middle finger stroked gently in and out of her cunt, Paula 
sighed again and again. She was a woman at last, and she gloried in her 
new status. Sex was terribly good -- getting better and better all the 
time -- and she wondered how people could think anything which gave so 
much pleasure could possibly be bad.

"Oh, darling," she whispered, so her mother couldn't hear. "I'm ready 
now. Take me ... put it in me!"

When he kept sucking her tit and fingering her pussy. Paula pulled his 
head up and kissed him abandonedly, thrusting her tongue into his mouth 
and jerking at his cock in an effort to urge him on top of her.

That, Jose understood. Leaving their mouths pressed wetly together, he 
swung between her legs and brought the head of his massive cock to her 
cunt.

Paula held her breath, waiting for him to penetrate her, spreading her 
legs wider apart to make it easier for him. It felt wonderful lying in 
the outer folds of her steaming opening, and she wanted to have it 
inside her at once now that her hymen was already broken.

But she wasn't prepared for the pain his bulging glans caused as he 
pressed slowly in. It entered her larger lips quite easily; but when 
she felt it spreading her inner lips tautly, she jerked her mouth from 
his and flung her head to the side. The pain was a tearing, dreadful 
thing. She gasped, jerked convulsively, then bit her lower lip to keep 
from screaming aloud.

"Stop ... oh, please stop," she begged. "It's too big for me!"

Ruth was crying brokenly. She could hear what was happening to Paula -- 
every sordid detail of it.

Recognizing the sound of pain in her voice, Jose pulled his glans from 
her at once. He bent and kissed her cheek, then scooted down and kissed 
her pussy.

By the third kiss her pain was gone, but Paula wasn't about to push his 
mouth from her vulva. His lips felt awfully good there. She lay as 
still as her trembling would allow, holding her legs far apart and 
patting his head. Then his tongue shot into her and Paula thought she 
would die, it was so good.

Everything but her pleasure completely forgotten, Paula crooned softly 
and held his face to her crotch with both hands. Up and down her hole 
he licked, darting in occasionally and stuffing her as full of his 
precious tongue as her virgin pussy could take, whipping her to new 
heights with each lick and thrust, thrilling her until she couldn't 
stand another second of the unbearable bliss.

"Oh ... oh cripes!" she wailed, pushing him away before she passed out 
from the intensity of it.

Her mind reeling with lust, she recalled the girl in the dirty picture, 
then struggled up and knelt over Jose as soon as he'd flopped onto his 
back. Without a second's hesitation she grabbed his shaft and lowered 
her face to his loins. Pursing her lips, she pulled his cock to her and 
kissed his glans. It felt hot and moist. Those butterflies in her 
stomach numbered in the millions as she stuck out her tongue and licked 
Jose's feverish cockhead.

Moaning, out of her head with insane lust, Paula opened her mouth wide 
and took in all the hot, hard cock she could manage, sucking down 
harshly on it and bobbing her head up and down frenziedly. Caught up in 
the lewd act, reveling joyously in it, Paula would have gladly sucked 
his big prick all night.

But Jose had other ideas. He pulled her mouth from him, a loud, 
lascivious slurp sounding as her lips lost their happy suction.

"I'm dying ... I'm burning up!"

Jose placed her once more on her back and mounted her, pushing his 
spit-slick cockhead between the puffy lips of her cunt and bearing down 
hard.

Paula was too far gone to care about the pain. She threw her arms 
around him and pushed with him, helping him stretch her inner lips and 
give her what she was starving for. Because of her raging need, it 
popped through her inner ring with only a dull ache. Then his hot glans 
bumped her hymen, still very much intact, and before Paula could tell 
him to stop, it was too late.

A searing pain spread out from her loins as his thick cock tore her 
membrane and rushed snugly up her tight cunt. Then his heavy nuts 
slapped into the crack of her quivering ass and his glans shoved her 
womb higher into her belly.

"Oh God ... oh God!" Paula shrieked, thinking for sure she was ripped 
asunder.

Jose's mouth found hers, his lips closing over her lips and his tongue 
filling her gasping mouth. She bit his tongue, sucking air through her 
flared nostrils as her body quaked beneath him.

The pain never did go away completely, but it ebbed enough that she 
quit chewing Jose's tongue and lay numbly beneath him. In a state of 
semi-shock, she felt his enormous shaft stroking gently. Then he sucked 
in his breath and stiffened, his cock jerking wildly as a great mass of 
hot fluid bathed her unfeeling cunt.



Chapter 8


In a basement room, one end of which was designed to look exactly like 
a medieval torture chamber, sat five very wealthy and jaded men. Each 
man had a woman with him; two had brought along their equally jaded 
wives, three their very young and beautiful girl friends of the moment. 
They sat on couches arranged in a semicircle before the torture chamber 
section of the room, smoking and sipping drinks, chatting among 
themselves, waiting for the special show they'd paid one thousand 
dollars each to witness.

None of the couples had met any of the others before this day. Each of 
the men had been contacted via telephone by the vice-lord Pico. One of 
the men was an aging Hollywood star who'd brought the girl beside him -
- a stunning red-haired starlet of nineteen -- to Acapulco for fun and 
games, promising to see that she got a juicy role in his next film. One 
couple, middle-aged and married, was from Germany, in Acapulco for a 
week's holiday. The others were Latin Americans, one a local married 
couple who owned several hotels and bars, the others from South America 
-- an exporter and his lady from Brazil and a rancher and his current 
flame from Argentina.

The men, at least, all had one thing in common -- depravity -- and the 
sex show they'd been promised greatly appealed to them. An American 
family -- a minister and his wife and fourteen-year-old daughter -- 
both striking blondes -- was soon to be brought in and ravished before 
their very eyes. Juan, the vice-lord host, had assured them it wouldn't 
be an act, but the real thing.

One by one from their separate rooms, as inescapable as prison cells, 
Ruth, Elliott and Paula were brought in naked and struggling.

Ruth was spread-eagled and manacled with her back to the wall. Most of 
the fight and fear was gone from her now. She hadn't eaten for the 
three days they'd been held captive in Acapulco. Jose had brought her 
all the water she'd wanted, but nothing more. She was weak and 
defeated, horrified but docile. Tears of humiliation streamed down her 
blushing cheeks as her ankles and wrists were fastened securely to the 
wall by the heavy iron manacles. The ten pairs of eyes in the faces 
grinning with anticipation bored into her, evoking a deep sense of 
shame as she sagged helplessly before them.

Elliott was led in next, his hands tied in front of him. He'd had all 
he wanted to eat and was well over the effects of the drug he'd been 
given in Juarez. Full of righteous indignation, he was fighting every 
step of the way as Jose slapped and kicked and shoved him into the 
room.

"Jesus ... it sure looks real," the starlet breathed.

"For a thousand bucks apiece, it better be," her escort muttered.

Elliott raged when he saw his wife hanging from the wall. He broke free 
of Jose and ran to her, grabbing the chains and trying to rip them out 
of the concrete they were set in.

"Go along with them, Elliott," Ruth pleaded.

"No, honey ... NO!"

"They'll kill us if you don't! There's nothing we can do!"

"They'll have to kill me!" he hissed, turning away to glare at the 
watchers, sweating from his exertion with the chains.

His voice echoing loudly around the room, Elliott ran toward the 
onlookers screaming, "Stop them! Don't let them do this! We're decent 
people!"

Grabbing Elliott up like a sack of potatoes, Jose held him, kicking and 
helpless, hooked over his hip.

"We've been abducted! Don't you understand? Help us! For God's sake, 
help us!!!"

Pico stuffed a gag in his mouth, tying it in place as Elliott shook his 
head and tried in vain to spit it out. When he was silenced, Jose stood 
him on a box and forced his tied wrists over a hook in a ceiling beam. 
Then, before Elliott could jerk off the hook, Pico kicked the box from 
beneath him and laughed cruelly as he swayed, helpless and mumbling.

The audience was tense with emotion, watching attentively as Elliott 
kicked and jerked on his hook and Ruth sobbed and sagged pitifully by 
her manacles.

The German wife reached into her husband's lap and took out his erect 
dick, her hand trembling as she gripped it harshly. "This is real, 
Karl! Those people are not actors!"

Karl pulled her dress up and gripped the inside of her thigh until she 
sucked in her breath and sighed, "It's going to be a delicious show ... 
worth every mark we paid. The woman has a whip, do you see?"

Jose hurried from the room, returning a moment later with Paula. She 
had a worried smile on her pretty face as he led her through the 
doorway. Then she saw her father hanging from the ceiling and her 
mother fastened to the wall. Stopping in her tracks, she jerked her 
hands up to her face and screamed shrilly.

"Mommy ... Daddy! Oh good cripes! What have they done to you? What's 
going on?"

Then she saw the audience and tried to hide behind Jose. His expression 
very strained, Jose picked Paula up and carried her to the padded 
massage table where Faustina was waiting.

"Put her pretty little butt here," Faustina ordered, patting the very 
end of the table. "That's it ... now hold her on her back while I tie 
her ankles."

Paula, who'd also been fed and cared for, fought so hard Pico had to 
help his sister pull her legs apart and tie her ankles to the table 
legs. When her ankles were secure, her legs spread wide apart and her 
squirming butt hanging on the edge of the table, Pico and Faustina 
moved up and each took one of her wrists from Jose.

His eyes pleading, Jose tapped Pico on the shoulder and pointed to 
Paula.

"It's all right, my friend," Pico assured. "Your precious Paula will be 
harmed in no way. Now, go sit down out of the way. I'll call you when 
you're needed."

As Jose moved reluctantly away, Paula felt her body being stretched 
tautly. Her arms were pulled out straight above her head, then apart, 
Ropes were fastened around her wrists as she whimpered and bit her lip. 
Then, in turn, her wrists were tied to the opposite table legs from her 
ankles.

"The young girl is first," Juan, sitting off to the side, announced. "I 
regret you cannot see her lose her virginity. I'm told the Negro took 
that from her during the flight from Juarez, where the family was 
abducted. Nevertheless, you will see her reaction to her first 
experience with Lesbianism. When you're ready, my dear."

Faustina, wearing boots, leather skirt and bra, all black, nodded to 
Juan, then bowed to the audience. Smiling, she moved to the table and 
began running her hands over Paula.

Cringing, Paula said, "Don't ... please don't touch me like that."

Ignoring her, Faustina rubbed her palms over Paula's soft abdomen and 
cupped one of her firm young tits. "She is very lovely, no?"

Paula squirmed, trying to move away from Faustina's hot hands.

"And so reluctant to be loved by a woman," Faustina added, taking 
Paula's pink nipple between thumb and forefinger, pinching slowly down 
on it.

Paula whimpered.

Her grip tightening, Faustina brought her face over Paula's and smiled 
cruelly down at her.

"You're h-hurting me! Stop ... p-please stop!" Paula gasped, her upper 
lip twitching and her eyes wide with fear.

"Kiss me, little one. Maybe I'll stop hurting you then ... if you kiss 
me passionately enough."

"No! I w-won't kiss you!"

Her teeth clenched, Faustina twisted Paula's nipple with all her might.

Screaming at the top of her healthy lungs, Paula bucked her body up 
from the table only to have the ropes bite painfully into her wrists 
and ankles. She fell, shuddering and sobbing, back to the table, 
Faustina's evil fingers gone from her tit but the pain lingering on.

"Cripes," she moaned. "Oh, cripes!" Then she felt Faustina taking her 
sore nipple between her thumb and forefinger again. "No! I'll kiss you 
... oh, God! I'll kiss you!"

Elliott kicked his legs wildly, trying to get himself free of the hook 
so he could rush to his daughter's aid.

"That's better," Faustina said, gloating into Paula's pain-racked face. 
"I don't want to hurt you, sweet one. Love is what I desire with you. 
Give it to me and you will feel no more pain."

"All r-right," Paula stuttered, not sure she could believe Faustina 
because she could feel her fingers holding lightly to her abused, 
throbbing nipple.

"I'll kiss it and make it well," Faustina cooed, moving her head to 
Paula's breast.

Her head slid down Paula's stomach, cupping her cunt as she pursed her 
lips and kissed the pink tip of her tit. Her mouth opened. She took 
Paula's tender bud inside and began sucking and licking her, her 
fingers moving jerkily through the blonde pubic hair. A slurp sounded 
as she lifted her head.

"Is that better, little one?"

Afraid to do otherwise, Paula nodded.

Faustina laughed, then dropped her head and took nearly all of Paula's 
tit into her hot mouth. Sucking softly, she rolled her face and stroked 
her hand intimately over Paula's loins. Her fingertips traced lightly 
from asshole to clitoris, going up the inner slope of one cunt lip and 
down the other, making Paula squirm and shut her eyes.

"Why," Faustina exclaimed with mock surprise, "I think you like what 
I'm doing to you, little one!"

"I don't," Paula moaned. "Not a bit."

"I think you lie to Faustina. Look at your nipple. It's becoming hard, 
no? And what is this?" she asked, lifting her hand from her pussy and 
rubbing her fingers together. "Do I feel the moisture of love coming 
from you already?"

"No, no, no!"

"Oh, yes, yes, yes," Faustina chuckled.

"Leave her alone," Ruth sobbed. "For God's sake ... leave my little 
girl alone!"

Faustina's head snapped around, her eyes turning instantly cruel and 
threatening as she glared at Ruth. "Shut up, puta! This one no longer 
is yours. She now belongs to Pico and me! Another word out of you will 
earn you a taste of my wheep!"

"Whip her!" the German woman hissed. "Whip her!"

But Faustina paid no attention to her. She stared Ruth down, then 
turned, smiling warmly, back to Paula. "Now I'm going to make the love 
with you. Before I'm finished, I think you will not be able to deny you 
find it good."

Her heart beating wildly, Paula watched Faustina's face move over hers. 
It descended quickly, lips finding lips, fitting together eagerly and 
hotly. Faustina kissed Paula wetly, her lips trying to work the girl's 
open, her hands moving constantly on both firm young tits.

Trying to think of anything but what was happening to her, Paula lay 
very still. She didn't want to respond to this perversion, and she felt 
sure she wouldn't because of her hatred of the woman forcing it upon 
her. But little by little she realized her body was betraying her. Her 
nipples began to harden under the incessant barrage of light pinches 
and tweaks. Faustina's darting tongue was between her lips and teeth, 
leisurely licking back and forth over the smooth inner surface of her 
lips, trying to coax her teeth apart and enter her mouth.

A glowing heat built slowly but surely in her loins, until finally 
Paula found it impossible to remain still. It was hard for her to 
breathe. She couldn't seem to suck in enough air through her nostrils.

Ripping her mouth from Faustina's, flinging her head to the side, Paula 
groaned and fought for breath, her chest heaving with the effort.

"Yes, baby ... yes!" Faustina cried, licking down Paula's sweat-damp 
throat to her tits, then going rapidly from one to the other, planting 
wet kisses on her hardened pink nipples. Her hand shot down and felt 
the girl's cunt. "You're all wet now ... nice and ready for love!"

"No," Paula panted, feeling two fingers enter her and another toying 
with her clitoris. "Please don't ... please ... I don't want you to 
touch me there!"

But Faustina's gaze was fixed hotly on her blonde cunt, and if she 
heard Paula she didn't show any sign of it. She moved between her legs, 
bent over, spread Paula's tensed thighs, then her cunt.

"Now, little one ... now I'll make your body sing with joy!"

Holding Paula's slippery cunt lips apart with her fingers, Faustina 
lowered her head and pressed her face to the girl's loins. Her lips 
covered Paula's wet cunt; her tongue shot deep inside.

"Ohhhh ... ohhhh," Paula moaned, suddenly very weak and willing.

It was the same as it had been in the plane. She'd melted then, just as 
soon as Jose had begun loving her with his mouth. She melted now as 
Faustina made oral love to her. Not wanting to like it didn't matter in 
the least. It was a bodily response her mind had no control over. She 
lay quivering and panting as Faustina's lips sucked at her and her 
tongue thrust hotly up her weeping cunt.

"Don't stop!" Paula yelled, when a moment later Faustina lifted her 
face and smiled wetly up at her. "Suck me ... suck me some more!"

Chuckling with victory, Faustina pressed her lips to Paula and smacked 
a loud kiss dead center of her swollen cunt, then she hurried up the 
table and took Paula's face between her hands, bringing her sex-slick 
mouth down for a kiss.

There was no hesitation this time. Paula gladly opened her mouth and 
accepted the woman's kiss. She allowed her tongue to jab easily into 
her oral cavern, sucking it immediately, finding the exciting taste of 
herself clinging to it.

"More," Paula moaned, when Faustina pulled away.

"You'll get much more, little one," Faustina said, climbing onto the 
table.

"What are you doing?"

"Making girl love!" Faustina exclaimed, straddling Paula's face and 
flipped up her leather skirt. She bent over her then, bringing her face 
to Paula's loins and her loins to Paula's face. "You want me to suck 
you more?"

"Yes, yes!"

"Then you have to suck too," she sighed, lowering her hips, pushing her 
hairy twat close to Paula's mouth.

"I don't know how!"

"Do like I do," Faustina ordered.

"I don't want to ... kiss you there!"

Faustina brought her lips to the top of Paula's cunt, taking her 
protruding clitoris between them, rolling it as she sucked and licked 
maddeningly at it.

"Mmmm ... so good!"

And those moaned words were the last Paula uttered for several 
pleasure-laden moments, for the next instant Faustina's dripping hot 
cunt pressed demandingly over her mouth. As if by instinct, Paula 
formed her lips to the perfumed slit and jabbed her tongue inside. The 
heady taste was wildly thrilling, the sex smell overpowering. With mild 
shock, she discovered that kissing Faustina's dark-lipped pussy was 
every bit as satisfying as sucking Jose's coal black cock -- which 
she'd done for him three times since their arrival in Acapulco, taking 
him all the way to orgasm and drinking his hot juice each time.

Just as she did when she was sucking Jose, she forgot everything else. 
"Cut me loose!" she yelled, her words muffled by the cunt over her 
mouth. "Cut me loose!"

"Do it!" Faustina barked, lifting her mouth from Paula's puffy cunt 
only long enough to speak the two words, then going at her hungrily 
again.

One ankle came free, then the other. Paula threw her legs up beside her 
body so Faustina's wonderful tongue could reach even deeper into her 
spasming cunt. Then her wrists were cut free and she wrapped her arms 
around the moaning woman above her, her hands gripping her buttocks and 
holding her messy cunt tightly to her mouth.

In seconds both Paula and Faustina plunged into a shuddering 
simultaneous orgasm, each holding to the other, moaning and groaning 
out their bliss with their mouths still locked firmly to one another's 
juicy cunts.

When it was over, Paula lay weakly on the table, watching Faustina jump 
up as refreshed as if she'd just had a good night's sleep rather than a 
soul-sapping climax, as Paula had experienced.

With no show of affection at all, Faustina walked away from the table. 
"Take your girl friend back to her room and lock her in, Jose. We're 
through with her now. Hurry back. We'll need you shortly."

Jose, happy that Paula hadn't been hurt, nodded quickly and strode to 
the table. He picked her up and cradled her in his arms, kissed her 
forehead, then took her from the room.

Faustina picked up the whip.

"The woman!" a voice called raggedly. "Whip the woman! "

"I'm sorry," Pico said. "The woman must not be marked. She is too 
valuable to us." He paused. "But the man is worthless ... would you 
settle for him?"

"Whip him!"

"Stripe him good!"

"Kill him! At least whip him until he passes out!"

"Take the gag out of his mouth! Let us hear him!"

"You animals!" Ruth screamed, jerking at her bonds. "You blood-thirsty 
animals!"

Faustina strutted over to Ruth and slapped her viciously, jerking her 
head to the side and bringing a trickle of blood from the corner of her 
mouth.

Her knees buckled and Ruth hung by the manacles attached to her wrists, 
shaking her head in horror, sobbing brokenly at their helplessness. The 
sharp edges of the iron bracelets dug brutally into her flesh. She 
struggled to her feet, painfully, weakly, totally beaten in body and 
spirit.

Standing on the box which he'd kicked from under Elliott's feet, 
holding Elliott's lower body away from him so he couldn't kick him, 
Pico untied the gag and jerked it from his mouth.

"You filthy swine!" Elliott spat, making fists as best he could. His 
hands were swollen and turning blue. He swung himself around to face 
the excited onlookers. "For God's sake! Don't just sit there! Get up 
off your tails and help us! Please ... at least help my wife and 
daughter! I'm begging you!"

"Break his spirit! Whip him!"

Faustina cracked the whip for drill, making it explode the air just 
scant inches from Elliott's ear. Then she doubled the wicked instrument 
and stepped closer to him, smiling as she reached out and swatted his 
balls and cock with it.

"Ung!"

"That's it, gringo bastard! Grit your teeth!" she taunted.

"You bitch," he groaned. "God will punish you ... if I don't get to you 
first!"

"You talk very brave for a man in your position," she smirked, whacking 
his nuts again, harder this time.

"Oomph!"

"Lash him! That's what we want to see!"

"And you will!" Faustina hissed, stepping back and readying her whip.

Taking careful aim, she swung the leather snake with all her might, 
making it pop loudly as she sent the tip biting into the nearest cheek 
of his tensed ass.

"Aargh!" Elliott screamed, his body jerking wildly as a long weal rose 
on his quivering buttock.

Faustina lashed him unmercifully then, throwing her whole body into 
each blow, raising welts on his back and down his chest and stomach, 
many of them oozing blood. He screamed until his voice was gone, then 
grunted and moaned as she kept raining blow after vicious blow on him. 
When she quit, he was drooling at the mouth and mumbling incoherently. 
She stepped up onto the box, wiped the sweat from her face, then 
reversed the whip and knocked him unconscious with the handle.

"Cut him down," she said, trembling from her strenuous labor as she 
went to sit down.

Using his switchblade, Pico cut Elliott loose, letting him fall to the 
floor with a thump, there to be temporarily forgotten now that they 
were finished with him. Stepping over his limp form, Pico took a key 
from his pocket and went to Ruth.

She was so weak she fell when he unlocked the final manacle and turned 
her loose. She looked up at him from the floor, feeling faint, not 
knowing what to expect after the terrible beating Faustina had given 
Elliott.

"Juan?" Pico called.

"One steak coming up," Juan called back, jumping to his feet and 
hurrying out the door. In less than a minute he reentered the room 
carrying a covered serving tray, giving it to Pico before he sat back 
down.

"Take your pants off and come over here, Jose."

Jose got up and shed his trousers, then walked over to where Pico stood 
over a cringing Ruth.

Pico lifted the lid from the tray and passed it under Ruth's nose.

Oh Lord, but it smells good! she thought, sniffing and making a too-
late grab for the thick steak on the platter.

"Not so fast," Pick taunted, holding her away from it with his foot. 
"This steak may be a bit tough. It's been sitting for more than an hour 
in a warm oven."

"I don't care how tough it is!" Ruth wailed, trying to grab it as Pico 
held her barely out of reach. "Give it to me ... give it to mee!"

"Are you hungry?"

"Hungry," she moaned, nodding and gulping. " So hungry!"

A small bite from the tenderest part of the steak had been cut off 
already, just large enough to tantalize Ruth and make her all the more 
eager for the rest of the steak when she tasted it.

"It has been a long time since you've eaten, hasn't it, rubia?"

"It seems like a week! Please ... let me have it!"

"It's only been three days," Pico said, picking up the bite of steak, 
watching Ruth's eyes as he brought it slowly to his mouth. Then, just 
as he got it to his lips, he let it drop.

It hit the floor and skidded, Ruth crawling after it, picking it 
eagerly off the dirty floor and popping it into her mouth. She 
whimpered as she chewed it up and gulped it down.

"Was it good?"

"Delicious!"

"Would you like the rest of this large, succulent steak?"

"Please ... oh, please!"

"I'll give it to you ... but first you have to suck Jose's cock."

"Oh, God," she moaned, staring at the long, black hose hanging between 
his legs.

"It won't hurt you, rubia. Your daughter sucks it willingly. She even 
likes to drink his semen."

"No," Ruth gasped. "Oh, no!"

"Yes. I'm afraid your daughter is a natural-born cocksucker. But it's 
your turn now. As soon as you bring the cum up from Jose's balls and 
swallow it down, I will give you the rest of this tender steak. Are you 
ready to begin?"

"Please. I've never done that ... not even for my husband."

"Don't you want the steak?"

"Yes. I'm starving to death!"

'Well?"

Feeling nausea build in her stomach just thinking about it, Ruth 
nodded. "I'll do it."

"Somehow I knew you would," Pico said, taking her hand and helping her 
up. "Sit on the edge of the table, Jose. Spread your legs so our guests 
will have a good view."

When Jose sat on the table, Pico led Ruth to him and pushed her head 
down to his loins.

Tears of humiliation misting her eyes, Ruth braced herself by resting 
her arms on his thighs, then opened her mouth and took his limp prick 
quickly into her mouth. Shutting her eyes, she sucked and licked until 
his cock grew thick and firm. Then, thinking about the steak, she 
bobbed her head rapidly back and forth, sucking harshly to make him cum 
as soon as possible and get it over with. The wet slurps her mouth made 
as it raced up and down his shaft rang obscenely in her ears, but she 
kept it up, feeling his cock acutely as it began to twitch against her 
lapping tongue.

She knew he was near orgasm, and the knowledge brought a mixture of 
revulsion and relief. More than anything she dreaded the moment when 
his sperm would gush into her mouth and she would have to swallow it. 
But then Pico would give her the steak, and she wanted it much more 
than she dreaded Jose's semen.

Intensifying her efforts, Ruth clung weakly to his thighs and sucked 
frantically on his enormous cock. It jerked, throbbed, then erupted -- 
sending a mass of hot cum over her tongue and washing down her throat. 
Fighting the impulse to gag and pull away, Ruth shuddered with each new 
jet of his load, letting it spurt warm and slick into her mouth as she 
gulped and gulped until she thought he'd never stop coming.

But finally he did stop, and when she took her mouth from his limbering 
prick, she staggered off to the side and puked wretchedly.

Pico was naked when she turned back, standing beside the table where 
her steak sat waiting. She rushed to her food and picked it up with 
shaking hands, bringing it to her mouth and tearing at it like an 
animal. In her rush to get to the steak she hadn't noticed Pico's 
erection. And when he stepped behind her and bent her over the table, 
she almost didn't notice that.

He pushed her tits flat against the table. She held the steak close to 
her face, still eating ravenously, her chin bumping the leather 
covering as she chewed and swallowed. Then Pico grasped her hips and 
pushed his cock between her buttocks.

"Don't!" she shouted, her protest coming out garbled around her 
mouthful of meat. "No ... no, please ... not that! Aargh! Ung ... ung 
... ung!"

Then his cock was in her asshole, thrusting rapidly, making it hard for 
Ruth to eat as he jostled her back and forth.

* * *


They arrived at the small airport on the outskirts of Acapulco early 
the next morning. The sun was just beginning to show in the eastern 
horizon when Paula stepped from the car and stood waiting while Pico 
and Jose dragged her parents out.

Ruth's hands were tied in front of her body. She wasn't gagged, because 
now she shut up immediately when she was told to do so, and she seemed 
to have little to say anyway.

Elliott's hands were bound securely behind his back. He was also 
gagged. Despite his weakened condition, the beating hadn't taken the 
fight out of him. He'd blackened Pico's eye when he and Jose entered 
his room that morning.

Only Paula had been left unbound and ungagged. She presented no threat 
to her abductors. Ever since the brief talk with her mother just before 
they'd left Juan's mansion, she seemed to be in a state of shock. She 
now knew there would never be any ransom, that she and her mother were 
being taken to Panama where they would remain forever as whores in 
Pico's sin palace. It was too horrible a fate for her young mind to 
accept, and she moved zombie-like as Faustina guided her toward the 
waiting plane.

Elliott was still struggling and mumbling through his gag when Jose 
stuffed him into the cargo area of the plane and climbed in behind him, 
shutting the door and slipping the makeshift two-by-four bolt into 
place to hold it shut.

"What are you going to do with the man?" Faustina asked as Pico started 
the engines.

"Get rid of him, I suppose," Pico answered.

Faustina and Pico were in the cabin, but the door to the cargo area was 
still open, letting their voices drift back over the sound of the 
revving engines.

"Good. You have no use for him."

"I could have use for him," Pico said. "I'd keep him if you'd come and 
whip him every Saturday night."

"No."

"It would make a good act for my show ... something none of the other 
houses offer."

"I can't."

"Just on Saturdays. Who would ever know? You could wear a mask to hide 
your identity."

"It is tempting," Faustina said.

"You'll think about it?"

"I'd enjoy it ... you know I would."

"Then you agree?"

Faustina sighed. "No. It's out of the question, Pico."

"Because of your husband?"

"Yes. He must never know. He wouldn't understand. Besides, his position 
... I dare not risk it."

"He still doesn't know about me?"

"He knows I have a brother. That's all. He thinks you live in Japan. 
No, Pico, forget it. I don't dare come to your place even once, let 
alone every Saturday night. Get rid of the man. He'll be trouble if you 
don't."

"I'll have to do it in a way that his body will not be discovered."

"How?"

"I don't know, Faustina. I don't know yet."

"I have a suggestion," she said.

"Tell me."

"Fly out over the ocean. We'll open the cargo door and push him out."

"His body might drift into shore."

"No, it won't. I'll cut him. The sharks will come to the blood. His 
bones will settle to the floor of the ocean and remain there."

The engines were warm enough. Pico began to taxi out to the strip for 
takeoff. Ruth hadn't heard anything of their conversation. She was so 
beat she'd fallen asleep as soon as she'd been laid on one of the 
sleeping bags. Paula sat huddled in a corner, her eyes open but 
unseeing, her ears registering the sound vibrations but her numbed 
brain refusing to take them in.

But Elliott, lying just inside the door, had heard them. He didn't know 
why they were speaking in English, but they were, and he hung on every 
word either of them uttered. His blood ran cold as he listened to them 
plan his murder. He had to do something, he realized -- and soon! The 
plane was on the runway, picking up speed for takeoff!

"Well?" Faustina asked.

"All right," Pico said. "We'll dump him over the ocean."

Jose's attention was on Paula, Elliott saw. The big Negro was sitting 
cross-legged before her, his gaze glued to her emotionless face. It was 
now or never, Elliott knew; and if he was going to die, he preferred it 
come as a result of an attempt to escape. At least this way he had a 
slim chance!

With great effort, the sores from Faustina's whip smarting at the 
slightest movement, Elliott got quietly to his feet. He backed to the 
wall of the plane, now approaching takeoff speed, and inched carefully 
toward the cargo door.

The plane lifted off the runway just as Elliott pulled the two-by-four 
bolt from its slots. Holding the wooden bar behind his back, his 
squatted in front of the door. The board made a noise as he dropped it, 
and both Jose and Faustina jerked their heads around.

"The fool is trying to jump from the plane!" Faustina shouted in 
English. Then, in Spanish, she yelled at Jose, "Get him! Grab him 
before he gets the door open!"

But Elliott already had the door part way open by the time Jose lunged 
at him. Slamming his feet forcefully on the cargo deck, he used all the 
power he could coax from his trembling legs to throw his back against 
the door. It swung open. He was tumbling out -- head first and backward 
-- when Jose grabbed his foot.

The plane was about ten feet in the air and climbing rapidly. For a 
split second Elliott hung here, Jose holding his foot and the door 
biting his shin as the force of the wind pushed against it. Then his 
shoe came off in Jose's hand and his shin scraped nerve-shatteringly 
against the sharp edge of the door. His body jerked as his foot caught 
in the door; then he was falling through the air with the plane soaring 
above him. The paved runway rushed up at him. He tried to jerk his body 
so he would hit on his side.

But there wasn't time. He hit the runway not knowing in what position 
he was in, his body skidding and rolling and flopping, lights flashing 
in his head, pain bursting him apart, trying to scream but never making 
it, a great and total blackness consuming him as a mass of blood gushed 
from his gaping mouth.

"Circle around and land!" Faustina screeched. "Pick him up!"

Pico nodded, doing as she said, turning the plane to return and land. 
"The fool! He's probably dead this minute. No one could live through 
that."

"But you can't leave his body there!"

"Don't panic. We'll get him and dump him at sea."

By the time they'd circled the field, Juan's car was gone. But another 
car was down there, speeding along the runway toward where Elliott lay.

"Of all the rotten luck!" Pico growled, pulling back on the controls 
and giving the plane full throttle, lifting away from the runway.

"Land, Pico ... land and get him!"

"I can't! The runway could be swarming with people by the time we got 
him into the plane!"

"Oh, sweet Mother of Christ," Faustina breathed, crossing herself. 
"What if his body is identified ... what if --"

"Hush, Faustina. Did you get a look at him when we passed over. He's a 
mess. I think he will not be identified." Pico smiled tensely, reaching 
into his side coat pocket, coming out with Elliott's wallet and 
personal things he'd had in his pockets. "His suitcase is in the plane, 
and I have everything from his pockets. I took them from him after he 
attacked me this morning."

Faustina sighed. "Fly out over the ocean. I'll throw his things out -- 
just to be on the safe side."



Chapter 9


Living in Pico's sin palace was like an unending nightmare for Ruth and 
Paula. They spent the first night locked in an upstairs room. Some of 
the louder noises drifted up to them from the large bar below, where 
Pico had said they'd be working the following night. Horrified at the 
sordid life ahead of them, they lay huddled naked together on the bed. 
The rooms on either side of theirs were busy, one or the other of the 
beds nearly always rasping under the weight of fucking bodies. It went 
on until a faint light began to filter in through the one barred 
window, signaling that the night was drawing to a close.

It was then, at dawn, when Ruth broke the news to Paula about her 
father's death. Paula stared dumbly at her mother for several moments, 
then buried her face between Ruth's breasts and broke down completely. 
Ruth held her, both of them crying for over an hour before a hopeless 
fatigue set in, bringing a deep sleep with it.

They were awakened and fed at three the next afternoon, their first 
meal in the whorehouse dining room (one end of the main barroom) 
consisting of flour tortillas, bacon, scrambled eggs, refried beans, 
orange juice, milk and coffee. The food was good. Ruth wolfed hers 
down. But Paula, still numbed by her situation and the news of her 
father's death, could only force a few bites down. She sat sipping 
orange juice, staring blankly at the other whores, listening to them 
chatter away in Spanish as if all was right with the world.

There were fifteen girls in all, varying in age from midteens to late 
thirties, most of them in their twenties. One looked Oriental, two 
Indian, and one was black with flashing white teeth. The others were 
Latin American. Ruth and Paula were the only Anglo girls, and their 
light skin and blonde hair made a striking contrast. Their fairness set 
them apart from the others. A couple of the younger girls seemed 
friendly, but most showed amused resentment when Ruth and Paula saw 
them glancing their way.

Pico and a plump, bored-looking woman he called Rosa sat at the table 
with Ruth and Paula. Rosa was by far the oldest and least attractive 
woman in the house. She spoke fair English, but nowhere near as well as 
Pico.

At the table next to them sat Jose, watching Paula with a worried 
expression as he ate. Two Latin men, almost as big and muscular as 
Jose, also sat at that table. One had an ugly scar running the full 
length of his left cheek, the other showed three front teeth missing 
when he laughed or smiled.

Five of the girls hurried through their meal, then four of them stood 
hopefully off to the side as the fifth came to the table and spoke to 
Pico in Spanish. He asked her a question. She pointed to the scarred 
man as she answered. Pico nodded. The scarred man came over. Pico gave 
him some money, then he and the five girls left.

"They are going to a movie," Pico explained as the front door banged 
shut. He grinned at Ruth. "Perhaps you and Paula will earn similar 
privileges one day."

A ray of hope flashed in Ruth. If she and Paula could get out of the 
building, even with one of those men along, there was a chance of 
escape.

"But of course I'd never permit you both to go out at the same time," 
Pico added, smirking, exploding the hope just as suddenly as he'd 
raised it.

Ruth shivered and lowered her gaze from his cruel eyes. She knew she 
could never escape and leave Paula behind. But there was a way. There 
had to be a way she could get Paula and herself out of this terrible 
place once and for all! And she determined to find a way if it was the 
last thing she ever did.

"I can read your mind, rubia."

"What?"

"You're thinking of escape."

"No," she lied.

"No matter. Think of it all you wish ... just don't be foolish enough 
to try it. If either of you should succeed, it will be at the expense 
of the other."

"What do you mean?"

"The one left behind will die," he said calmly, lighting a cigar. "Very 
slowly and very painfully."

Ruth gasped. "You wouldn't!"

He laughed.

A chill swept over Ruth. She hugged herself and shuddered.

"Both of you go bathe and make yourselves pretty. Two of my most valued 
patrons are coming shortly. They've graciously agreed to let you 
practice your new profession on them. Rosa will instruct you what to do 
and when to do it. I would advise that you eagerly obey her every 
command. Don't force me to punish you. Cooperate. Your lives will be 
much more pleasant for it."

The instant they were alone in their room, Paula dove onto the bed and 
began crying bitterly. Ruth sat down beside her, patting and stroking 
her, trying to console her.

"I don't wanna be a whore, Mommy!" she wailed. "I want to go home!"

Tears misting her own eyes, Ruth slapped Paula hard. "Get hold of 
yourself! Stop crying and listen to me!"

Sniffling and rubbing her cheek, Paula sat up obediently.

"We will go home, baby. I promise you that."

"But how? Pico won't let us!"

"Hush now! Don't start that again!"

Paula shook herself and wiped her eyes.

"I don't know how yet," Ruth went on, "but there has to be a way! I'll 
find it. I'll get you out of here."

"It's hopeless, Mother, and you know it."

"No, it isn't. It can't be! Believe that, Paula. We'll get out of here. 
It'll take time, though, and for now we'll have to do as they say."

"I don't know if I can," Paula moaned.

"You have to. There's no choice."

"I'll try."

"We'll act like we've accepted things as they are. Don't cross Pico in 
any way ... no matter how disgusting it becomes. Make him think you're 
trying to adapt. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good girl. I know it's going to be horrible. But we have to go along 
for now. When he's convinced we're broken, they won't watch us so 
closely. We'll find a way, Paula. We have to. And when the time is 
right ..."

"It could take months."

"Then help me, Paula. Study everything. Help me come up with a plan."

"But what if we can't find a way?"

"We can. Believe that, or we're lost already. I promise to get you out 
of this, and I've never broken a promise to you, have I?"

"But this is different, Mother."

"I'll get you out of here, even if I have to stay behind."

"No! I won't let you do that! Pico would kill you!"

Ruth smiled sadly. "If we can't both escape, you'll be the one to go. 
Do you understand me, Paula? I'd rather be dead than have my daughter 
live her life as a whore."

Paula gulped.

"But we'll find some way. We're more intelligent than they are. We can 
do it if we put our minds to it ... if we think it out carefully and 
find the most logical plan before we attempt it."

"I'll help you, Mother. If Jose could only talk, I believe I might get 
him to help us. He's in love with me, I think."

"He does what Pico says, and he only understands Spanish."

"I'll learn Spanish as fast as I can. I'll feel Jose out."

"It can't hurt, that's for sure. Come on. We'd better get cleaned up 
and go back before Pico comes after us. We want him to think we've 
given up hope and are trying to make the best of it."

"I guess it's the only way, for now," Paula said resignedly, her mind 
already turning over what she'd say to Jose once she could speak enough 
Spanish to talk to him.

The men were sitting at a table with Pico when Ruth and Paula, both of 
them forcing smiles, came down the stairs.

"They're so old," Paula said out of the corner of her mouth as she and 
her mother approached the table.

Ruth took her hand and squeezed it. The two men were old, one of them 
bald and skinny, the other fat and round-faced, with his gray hair 
clipped in a stiff crewcut. Now that she saw the men who were to be 
their first customers, Ruth knew she'd never be able to go through with 
it. She glanced at the table. The door was clear across the room. No 
one was near it. 

"The door," Ruth whispered. "Let's try for it."

"Now?"

"Right now. Run!"

Their heels clicked rapid-fire as Ruth and Paula raced past the table 
and ran for the door. They could hear Pico laughing uproariously even 
as they approached it. Then, standing before the door, they realized 
why Pico was laughing and no one was trying to stop them. They couldn't 
open the door. There was no knob on the inside -- just a hole for a 
key. All that was required for freedom was the twist of a key, then a 
push on the door. Ruth and Paula pounded and pushed futilely on the 
heavy door. Finally they gave up, looked at each other, then went 
defeatedly to the waiting men.

"You can't get out without these," Pico said, holding up his keys to 
taunt them. . "And you have the only set, I suppose," Ruth said 
tiredly.

"Not at all, rubia. Everyone who needs keys has them."

"But none of the girls."

Pico grinned. "You're a smart one, rubia. You catch on very quickly. 
Now, I'm going over there and watch while Rosa shows you how to turn 
hesitant men into eager customers. Learn well the art of seduction, my 
fair ones."

For over an hour Ruth and Paula took instructions from Rosa. They 
approached the evil-looking men, both of whom were around sixty, time 
and again learning how to smile and slink up to them, caressing them, 
running their tongues in their ears and fondling their cocks. By the 
time Rosa called a halt to the preliminaries, Ruth's face mirrored the 
shame and humiliation seething within her.

It was different for Paula. The skinny bald man had been assigned to 
her, and at the first touch of her trembling hand his cock had jumped 
to life. Fondling it through his trousers aroused her slightly, because 
sex was so new to her. He was soon handling her in return, feeling her 
tits and putting his hand under her dress. She tried very hard not to 
respond.

But it was a losing battle. After the second drink Paula's mind was 
fuzzy and the butterflies were swarming in her stomach. Then the man 
took his hard cock out and put her hand on it flesh to flesh. It felt 
nice and hot when she gripped it, and when he pushed her head down she 
could dimly hear Pico laughing as she took his cock in her mouth and 
sucked it.

Something in her snapped. Moaning with lust, she bobbed her head 
willingly up and down in the squirming man's lap, taking the head of 
his weeping cock deep into her mouth as her cheeks hollowed in harsh 
suction. A hand gripped her blonde hair, pulling her mouth from the 
stiff rod with a lewd slurp.

Wagging her finger in front of Paula's face, Rosa scolded, "Never here, 
little cocksucker. Always make them pay first, then take them to a room 
... understand?"

Licking her lips, knowing it was crazy but wanting to suck the dick off 
anyway, Paula nodded.

Turning to Pico, Rosa asked, "How much for their services? They have 
learned enough teasing for now."

"No fee for these gentlemen this time. They are doing me a favor. Get 
on with it."

"Come," Rosa said.

Ruth, reeling with shame, and Paula, moving as if hypnotized, held the 
men's hands and followed Rosa up the stairs and down the hall to a room 
containing two beds. Pico was the last one in. He stood just inside the 
doorway, not bothering to shut the door.

"Please," Ruth begged. "Don't make us do it in the same room. Have you 
no decency at all?"

"In the same room," Rosa sighed. "How else can I instruct you both?"

"They are mother and daughter," Pico explained to the men.

The fat one finally began to get an erection. "Make them love each 
other first."

Pico grinned. "It might prove interesting, at that."

Paula blinked at her mother.

"No," Ruth pleaded. "Not that!"

"You'll do as I say!" Pico barked. "Yes ... I think I'd like to see 
them together. Strip! Both of you!"

As Paula blushed and took off her clothes, Ruth stood numb and 
shivering, tears trickling down her cheeks. She was soon as naked as 
Paula though, because Pico had both the men help her off with her 
clothing. Ruth sobbed silently as the four eager hands tugged at her 
clothes and fondled her body.

"Put her on that bed," Pico said, and Ruth felt herself being lifted 
and placed in the center of the bed. "She's very beautiful, isn't she? 
Lie on top of your mother, little one. Show her you love her. Kiss away 
her tears."

When Paula hesitated, standing beside the bed and looking down into her 
mother's tear-streaked face, Pico blew the ashes off his cigar and held 
the hot end near her buttock. She jerked away before the fire touched 
her and, knowing he would burn her if she didn't act quickly, got onto 
the bed.

"I feel awful about this," Paula whispered, getting on top of her 
mother, letting their bodies contact, tits to tits and belly to belly, 
holding her pubic mound just above Ruth's.

"Spread your legs, rubia. Take your daughter between them and put your 
arms around her."

"I'm sorry, Mother," Paula whispered, her cunt making contact with 
Ruth's as she fitted between her opening thighs. When Ruth's arms went 
about her and hugged her maternally, Paula said, "I love you. I don't 
want to do this. I love you so much!"

Ruth shut her eyes and sobbed, patting Paula's back.

Then, her own eyes misting over, Paula began kissing away her mother's 
tears.

"Her mouth now, little one. Kiss her like you were a man."

Feeling sorrow for her mother, Paula brought her mouth to Ruth's, 
pressing their lips firmly together. A hand moved between their 
throats; fingers pulled at their chins. Paula did as she knew Pico 
would demand anyway. Expecting to feel revulsion, she thrust her tongue 
into her mother's mouth. But there was no revulsion. Ruth's mouth was 
sweet and warm, very pleasant to kiss even though she wasn't kissing 
back.

Hands covered her asscheeks, pushing down, rocking her pussy against 
Ruth's.

"You get the idea, little one? Do it. Hunch while you kiss."

She did as she was told, and the constant rubbing of cunt against cunt 
grew very enjoyable. It was terribly wrong, Paula knew, because they 
were both women and also mother and daughter, but she couldn't make 
those wonderful butterflies in her stomach believe it. They responded 
only to the physical sensations, ignoring her mental pleas and 
multiplying at an unbelievable rate.

Then hands were grasping Paula's ankles, tugging at them, urging her 
mouth from Ruth's, pulling her down until her face was lying between 
her mother's large breasts. It wasn't necessary for Pico to order her 
this time. Paula palmed the side of those warm tits and pulled both 
nipples close together. Kissing and sucking instinctively, she moved 
from one to the other. Soon Ruth's pink buds grew hard to her lips and 
tongue. 

"Mother ... oh, Mother!"

With a mournful groan, Ruth shut her eyes tightly and bit her lower 
lip.

"Suck her pussy," Rosa chuckled.

Paula could feel her mother trembling as her chest rose and fell 
rapidly. "I want to, Mother! God help me ... but I do!"

"God help us both!" Ruth moaned, patting Paula's shoulder with one hand 
as she pushed her head lower with the other.

Hurriedly Paula scooted down and brought her mouth to her mother's 
slippery cunt. She opened her mouth wide, fitted her lips hotly to the 
hairy blonde opening, then stuck in her tongue as far as it would go.

Ruth stiffened. "Ohhhh ... ohhhh!" Then a tremor passed through her 
body as she flung her legs wide and held Paula's face firmly to her 
loins.

The next instant Pico grabbed Paula and turned her around, pushing her 
face back into her mother's cunt and her cunt into her mother's face. 
When Ruth grabbed her ass and shoved her hot tongue deep into her 
pussy, Paula thought she'd pass out from the bliss careening through 
her. She sucked and licked furiously, Ruth doing the same to her. For 
little more than a minute were they left alone, then Paula was picked 
up bodily and dumped onto the other bed.

"You bastards!" Ruth cried. "You perverted bastards! "

The bed sagged as the fat man joined Ruth. He mounted her, plunged his 
cock to the hilt in her spit-slick cunt, hunched twice, then pulled 
out, dripping her juice, and straddled her. On his knees he walked up 
the bed until his purplish glans was bumping her chin. There, without a 
word, he cupped her head and lifted her mouth to him, pulling her lips 
over his hot knob, forcing her teeth apart, thrusting his smelly dick 
so far and fast into her moist oral cavern that she gagged as the 
cockhead pressed at the back of her throat. "Suck it, rubia!"

Her mind reeling with shame and lust, Ruth gripped the man's fleshy ass 
and bobbed her head on his cock.

"Ohhh ... not there! Not in my butt!"

Moaning as she sucked rapaciously on the strange man's dick, Ruth 
glanced at the other bed out of the corner of her eye. There was Paula, 
on her hands and knees, the skinny man taking his position behind her, 
holding her hips as he sank his shaft between her quivering asscheeks.

"Oh ... too big ... it's too big!" Paula gasped. Then she sucked in her 
breath raggedly, her eyes growing very wide as the man flattened her 
ass with his stomach. "UNG ... UNG! Ohhh ... oh, cripes!"

Panting for breath, Paula dropped her face to the pillow and moaned 
soulfully as the man began fucking her ass with rapid thrusts.

* * *


That night Ruth turned eight tricks and Paula twelve. Ruth's fifth 
customer of the evening was an American sailor, a chief petty officer. 
As soon as she was in a room with him, she blurted out the story of how 
and why she and Paula were there. He didn't believe her. She was 
horrified when he only laughed and told her what a vivid imagination 
she had. While he was fucking her she begged him to help, pleaded with 
him to at least report what she'd told him to the police.

"Sure, baby ... sure," he mumbled drunkenly, still humping away. "Now 
shake that hot ass and make it good for me, huh?"

''Oh, thank you ... thank you so much!" Ruth wailed, hugging him, 
slamming her pelvis up to meet him, making it as good for him as she 
possibly could.

But as he left the room while she was cleaning herself, he glanced at 
her and shook his head, muttered, "Crazy broad," then went out laughing 
as Ruth stared incredulously after him.



Chapter 10


Twenty-seven days after he'd jumped from the plane, Elliott opened his 
eyes. He was in a hospital room -- in casts and bandages and traction -
- with needles in his veins and bottles hanging on either side of the 
bed. He blinked and turned his head. A nurse sat knitting beside his 
bed.

"Don't move," she admonished. "I'll get the doctor."

Elliott watched her hurry from the room. He wondered where he was. He 
even wondered who he was. Then the curtain of peaceful blackness fell 
over him again.

* * *


"Jose! My darling, Jose! " Paula wailed in Spanish, her fingers digging 
at his tensed ass as his cock twitched through orgasm inside her for 
the second time that morning. "Me too, baby ... I'm coming with you!" 
she cried.

He hugged her to him, panting harshly as his sperm jetted into her 
heaving belly, his lips working over her throat and ear.

"Ohhh ... sweet man ... wonderful man!"

Paula held him on top of her when it was over, smiling up at him as she 
stroked his damp back and worked her cunt on his limbering cock. "Make 
it hard again," she breathed. "I love to feel you inside me. Fuck me 
again, darling ... just once more before we fall asleep!"

Jose looked confused. It was the first time Paula had made any demands 
at all on him. He shrugged helplessly, then withdrew and flopped onto 
his back beside her.

But Paula was not to be put off so easily. Everyone in the whorehouse 
was going to sleep for the day, and this was the morning she and her 
mother had decided to escape. She wanted Jose drained and exhausted 
when she left him sleeping. He mustn't wake up and catch her taking his 
keys, and he had to sleep soundly for an hour, at least. He usually 
slept so lightly that he awoke when she got up to go to the bathroom 
even. But not this morning. This morning he had to sleep!

"What's the matter, honey?" she asked teasingly. "Don't you want to 
fuck me again?"

He nodded and grinned, then shook his head and pointed at his limp 
cock.

"I'll fix that," she said sultrily, sitting up and bending over him, 
taking his slippery prick in her hand and lowering her head.

Her tongue flashed out and licked the mixture of male and female sex 
juices from his shiny, black prick. Feigning a sexual hunger she didn't 
really feel, she cupped his balls and rolled them gently. "Mmming," as 
if she found it delicious, she licked wetly at the velvety head of his 
dick until it began rising jerkily. Then, looking up into his eyes, she 
took it in her mouth and sucked it back to full erection.

"Ohh," she sighed, slurping off his stiff rod and grasping it in her 
hand as she swung over his loins. "This is the way I like you, darling 
... nice and hard and ready!"

Bracing one hand on his chest, she guided his glans between the swollen 
lips of her cunt, then sank down, sighing and trembling as she took it 
all.

The head flipped maddeningly at her cervix as Paula began riding him; 
and though she'd been fucked by twenty-three customers before she and 
Jose went to bed, she found herself loving every inch of his massive 
dick. She rarely felt anything with the men who paid for her favors, 
but Jose was different. He was so gentle with her so loving and kind.

"Oh, baby ... baby," she moaned, taking his hands and pulling them up 
to her tits.

It took nearly five minutes to bring Jose to his third orgasm, and 
during her breathless ride Paula paused, shuddering and moaning, for 
three more of her own. Then she felt his big cock throbbing a warning 
and speeded up the already rapid tempo.

"I'm going to miss you, Jose," she said in English, knowing he wouldn't 
understand. "Jesus ... how I'm going to miss you!"

A final weak orgasm swept over her as his prick jerked delightfully in 
the depths of her sweat-soaked belly. She fell forward, glued her mouth 
to his and sucked in his tongue, rotating her hips as they shared a 
last moment of joy.

"That was wonderful, darling," she sighed, rolling off him and cuddling 
up to his relaxed body. "Sleep now. No, I'm too warm. Don't hold me. 
Let's go to sleep."

In less than a minute Jose was snoring lightly. Paula fought her own 
tiredness, snapping her eyes open each time they fell shut. After Jose 
seemed to fall a bit deeper asleep, she kissed his forehead and called 
his name. He didn't stir.

Carefully she slipped out of bed and stole the keys from his pants 
pocket. As a final gesture of affection, which she knew wasn't love in 
the true sense, she bent over him and kissed his lips. Then, not 
bothering to dress, she tiptoed from the room.

The hall was deserted. No voices could be heard coming from any of the 
rooms. Paula crept just the same, making her way cautiously to the room 
in which her mother was locked. She found the right key and opened the 
door, then stepped inside and closed it noiselessly behind her.

"I was beginning to worry. What kept you?" Ruth asked.

"Jose sleeps so lightly. I had to make sure he was very tired."

"You look beat yourself."

"It was a rough night."

"Our last, thank God," Ruth sighed. "Hurry and brush your hair. I've 
got your things laid out and ready for you to put on."

"Thanks, Mother. I ought to have a bath."

"Later, Paula. Let's get out of here while they're all sleeping. I 
shudder to think what Pico might do if we're caught."

"Don't even mention it," Paula said, dressing hurriedly.

"I don't think we should bother with anything but what we have on."

"Yes," Paula agreed, buttoning her dress as she moved to the door. 
"Come on. I'm ready."

"The keys," Ruth whispered. "Don't rattle the keys."

They eased into the hall looking both ways, found it clear, then walked 
softly to the stairs and down, carrying their shoes. The large barroom 
was empty and quiet, smelling of stale tobacco smoke and whiskey. Both 
of them trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation, they crossed 
to the outer door and Paula held her breath as she inserted keys until 
the right one opened the lock.

"Oh, God!" she whimpered with relief, pushing the door open for her 
mother then following her outside.

"We're out," Ruth sighed. "We're going to make it!"

"Hurry, Mother. This is a bad section. Let's walk fast."

"Maybe we can find a taxi."

"I'd rather find a policeman," Paula said. "I never thought I'd be 
looking for a policeman, but one or two of them would sure be a welcome 
sight right now."

"There goes a cab," Ruth said, breaking into a trot and calling, "Taxi 
... taxi!"

"He can't hear you."

"Damn it! He's gone!"

"Come on, Mother. Let's go this way ... toward those taller buildings."

"I wish we knew for sure where the downtown area is."

"I'd settle for the nearest police station," Paula said.

They walked at a fast clip through the early morning quiet. When they 
were six blocks from Pico's, a police car pulled to the curb. As the 
door opened and one of the uniformed men started to climb out, Ruth and 
Paula rushed toward him.

"Oh, thank the Lord!" Ruth exclaimed. "Thank you for stopping, 
officers."

In English almost as good as Pico's the officer asked, "You ladies out 
for a breath of early air, or what?"

"You'd never believe it," Paula told him, grabbing his hand and pumping 
it. "Would you give us a ride, please ... to the main police station?"

"Are you in trouble?"

"Yes. Big trouble."

The policeman opened the back door for them. "Hop in. You can tell us 
about it on the way."

The police car moved slowly as Ruth and Paula poured out their story 
from the caged back seat. Like police cars in many cities, the back was 
designed to carry prisoners. Steel wire mesh covered the windows and 
the space between them and the front, and the doors had no handles on 
the inside.

"Hmmm ... I see," the policeman said when they stopped talking. "You 
say this Pico had been holding you prisoner?"

"Yes," Ruth said. "It's been awful ... just awful!"

"We are not in the Canal Zone here. Would you like us to take you 
there, so you can contact the proper American official?"

"Please. That would be wonderful!"

"How much money do you have?"

"What?"

"Money. Dollars American. How much do you have?"

"Why, none. Pico took it all."

"Isn't that a shame?" the policeman asked his partner who was driving. 
"They have no money."

"What has that to do with it?" Paula demanded.

They both laughed, then the driver said, "I know Pico ... and he has 
money."

"Do you think he'd be grateful if we did him a favor?"

"Oh, man," Ruth groaned.

"I think he would. Let's take them home and see."

"No! No, don't!" Paula pleaded. "We'll get money ... lots of it! We'll 
send you a great deal of money when we get back to Tulsa!"

"Do you trust them?" the driver asked.

"You know better than that. They're whores ... and whores, as everyone 
knows, are such notorious liars."

"But we're not whores!" Paula wailed.

"Don't you understand?" Ruth demanded. "We were kidnapped ... abducted! 
"

"I'll ask Pico," the driver said over his shoulder. "If he says you're 
not whores, then I'll take you to the Canal Zone."

"Oh my God!" Ruth screamed. "No, no no!!!"

* * *


Pico looked irritated when he opened the door. Then he saw Ruth and 
Paula, handcuffed together and trembling with fear between the two 
grinning policemen, and he snarled angrily as he jerked them inside.

"We found them several blocks away, Pico," the policeman who'd driven 
the car said. "They made serious accusations against you."

Glaring at Ruth and Paula, Pico slapped them viciously before he turned 
to the policemen and took out his wallet. "How serious?"

"Very serious, I'm afraid."

"This serious?" Pico asked, taking several bills from his wallet and 
passing them to the men.

"About twice that serious, Pico."

Pico frowned, but he gave them more money. "I trust this will not be 
reported."

Both policemen smiled, and the driver asked, "What is there to report? 
It's a dull morning. Nothing has happened yet."

"Thank you for returning my property," Pico said. "Don't forget your 
handcuffs."

When the policemen had gone, Pico vented his rage on Ruth and Paula, 
cursing and slapping them till both lay sobbing on the floor.

"Get up!" he hissed.

They struggled to their feet and Pico shoved them toward the stairs, 
forced them up the stairs and down the hall, flung them into Ruth's 
room, and promising to deal with them later, locked the door.

That afternoon Pico returned to their room with Rosa and the two Latin 
bouncers. They were all in the room before Ruth and Paula woke up. Rosa 
carried two syringes and a length of rubber tubing. The Latin men came 
on either side of the bed, one grabbing Ruth and the other Paula, 
holding them as they tried to cringe away. 

"What are you going to do to us?" Paula gasped.

"Shut up! Give me the tubing, Rosa."

Pico grasped Paula's wrist and pulled her arm out, sat on her hand, 
then tied the tubing very tightly around her upper arm. He poked at her 
vein, holding his other hand out for the first syringe.

"No!" Ruth yelled as Pico inserted the needle into Paula's arm. "What 
are you giving her? Don't!"

The milky fluid left the syringe as Pico pushed the plunger.

Paula's eyes grew very wide. Her mouth dropped open. An expression of 
complete bliss washed over her face. "Hooo ... ohhh ... oh, Lord!"

"My God!" Ruth wailed, watching in horror as Paula fell back on the bed 
moaning ecstatically. "What did you give her?"

"Just a little heroin, rubia, the same as I'm going to give you. Hold 
out your arm."

Using every ounce of power she could muster, Ruth struggled wildly to 
break free. "No! Oh, God ... don't! Not that! Please ... not dope!"

"You don't want it?" Pico asked tauntingly, tying the rubber tubing 
around her arm as the scar-faced man held it. "Look how happy it makes 
Paula. "

"You dirty beast!" Ruth cried as the needle stabbed into her vein.

Pico's thumb touched the end of the plunger. "Soon you'll beg me for 
it, rubia. Soon you'll do anything for this lovely stuff. Soon you 
won't even think of escape."

"You swine!" Ruth screamed.

The plunger moved down into the syringe.

"You d-dirty an-an-imal ... unggggh ... oh, Jesus!"

"There," Pico said, smiling as he withdrew the needle. "How do you 
feel?"

"Ohhh ... ohhh."

"It's time to eat. Would you girls like some food?"

His voice came to Ruth and Paula as if from a great distance. It was 
too much trouble to answer. They lay moaning in a fantastic new world, 
their eyes clamped shut and their hands clenched into trembling fists.

"I don't think they'll be wanting food for a while," Rosa said.

Ruth was dimly aware of Pico bending over her.

"How do you feel, rubia? Tell me how you feel."

"I can't describe it," she whimpered.

"Good?"

"Oh, yes ... oh good God, yes!"

"You've seen Rosa with the donkey, haven't you?"

Ruth nodded weakly.

"From now on you're the donkey girl, rubia. Tonight you will take 
Rosa's place. I don't think she hears me."

Ruth did hear him, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. The heroin 
had transported her to a state of complete euphoria. She couldn't be 
alarmed at such a minor thing as being coupled with a donkey -- not 
when she wouldn't even have cared if her head was cut off.

But the heroin had worn off when Pico came for them that night. Jose 
was with him, and it was obvious he felt angry with Paula for stealing 
his keys.

"Don't give us any more heroin," Ruth pleaded. "Don't get us hooked."

"Can you face the donkey without it?"

"Oh, Lord ... I was hoping I'd dreamed that."

"No. You're the star of the show. The donkey will ride you tonight."

Ruth glanced frantically about, her upper lip twitching. Finally she 
nodded. "But no more heroin."

Pico grinned. "None for now. Later ... we'll wait and see. Come. The 
customers are waiting."

The show was already in progress when the mother and daughter reached 
the little area at the side of the small stage. Two of the girls were 
on the bed performing a sixty-nine, the bright spotlight revealing 
their every movement to the many men in the large barroom.

"Take off your clothes, rubia."

The donkey was nowhere in sight, but Ruth didn't ask why as she 
stripped obediently and stood shivering while the two girls moved off 
the stage.

"Jose," Pico said. "You know what to do."

Jose nodded, then grabbed Paula and flung her out to the center of the 
stage. Applause came from the audience as Paula fell, screaming, to the 
floor.

Before Paula could get to her feet, Jose was looming over her, lifting 
her, jerking her head back and slapping her.

"Why, Jose?" Paula sobbed. "Why?"

His eyes softened a little as he took her in his arms and kissed her 
roughly. Then he pushed her away and began ripping off her clothes.

Only half aware of what was going on, Paula glanced out at the leering 
men as Jose's big hands ripped her clothing to shreds and jerked her to 
and fro. Frightened and ashamed -- being naked in front of all those 
customers wasn't like being naked with one at a time -- Paula stood 
trembling as Jose quickly stripped off his clothing.

When he stepped from his shorts, Paula stared fixedly at his large 
black cock. It stood out from his body, hard and throbbing. Under other 
circumstances she would have welcomed the sight. But this was 
different. Where his massive cock had given her pleasure in their 
tender private moments, it now scared her. She didn't know what he was 
going to do to her, but somehow she knew it would cause her pain rather 
than pleasure. 

Splat!

Her head jerked to the side from the force of his slap. Then his hands 
were on her shoulders, pushing down hard, buckling her knees and 
forcing her to the floor. Instinctively she grabbed his muscular 
thighs, holding to them and sobbing as he grasped her head and began 
slapping her face with his heavy dick.

Confusion overwhelmed Paula. She clung desperately to Jose's thighs, 
his hard prick banging against one cheek, dragging across her eyes, 
then whapping from the other side and moving back again and again.

Though she refused to accept it at first, Paula realized her pain and 
deep humiliation were rapidly turning into masochistic pleasure. Soon, 
however, she gave in to the new sensations bombarding her confused 
mind. Moaning deliriously, she started kissing and licking the black 
cock as it crossed her face.

It was what Jose had been waiting for. He grabbed a handful of her 
blonde hair and yanked her head back, then thrust his cock deep into 
her gaping mouth.

Unable to help herself, knowing full well that every eye in the place 
was glued on her and Jose, Paula dug her fingernails into his tensed 
thighs and sucked rapaciously on his thrusting dick. Her cheeks 
hollowed obscenely; her lips distended grotesquely.

A loud slurp echoed lewdly in her ears as Jose pulled his wet dong from 
her harshly sucking mouth. She grimaced in pain as his hands hooked 
under her arms and lifted her face to his. Then his lips covered hers, 
his tongue slipping wetly between them to fill her mouth.

As she threw her arms around him and sucked his tongue, she felt him 
moving his hands down to her hips, gripping her, moving her secretion-
drenched pussy to the head of his cock. It spread her hairy lips. The 
head popped in. Jose's hands left her hips and she slid jerkily onto 
his long rod.

"Ohhh ... oh, darling!" she gasped, their bellies slapping together as 
the last inch of his shaft slid into her.

He grasped her legs and pulled them around him.

"Fuck me! Fuck me!" she cried, locking her ankles.

Gritting his bared teeth, Jose hooked his fingers over her shoulders 
and yanked her arms loose, pushed her backward, then let her upper body 
fall till she hung suspended on his thick cock.

"Help me!" she wailed, trying desperately to grab him.

He took her hands so she wouldn't fall completely, but he wouldn't lift 
her back up. Then, with her body hanging from his, he began hunching 
rapidly.

"It hurts," she moaned, raising her head and looking at the knot his 
glans brought as it pressed upward against the wall of her abdomen. The 
knot moved up and down her stomach as he went on thrusting.

Gripping his hands for dear life, Paula shuddered and moaned. She felt 
dizzy as he bounced her back and forth, making her buttocks bump rapid-
fire against him and her long hair sway wildly.

"Good ... oh, it hurts so good!"

Jose walked to the bed, dropped her shoulders to it, then bent over her 
and fucked like a madman till Paula was yelling at the top of her lungs 
with a tremendous orgasm and his cock was spurting a massive load of 
hot cum directly into the mouth of her spasming womb. 

She was so weak he had to carry her offstage.

"Now, rubia," Pico said as Jose carried Paula, panting breathlessly, 
past them, "it's your turn to perform."

The two Latin men were already bringing the platform on-stage, and Ruth 
could hear the donkey's hooves clattering even before she saw Rosa 
leading him in. She hugged herself and shivered, then Pico was dragging 
her on-stage.

The applause for Paula and Jose had barely stopped. When the audience 
saw Ruth being brought reluctantly onto one side of the stage and the 
shaggy donkey on the other, they yelled and clapped louder than ever.

Her body jerking convulsively with nearly paralyzing fear, Ruth blinked 
numbly and stared at the bright spotlight.

"Here's your lover," Pico smirked, pushing her so close to the smelly 
beast her tits mashed against his coarse hair. "Put your arms around 
him. Hug and pet him."

"Don't make me do this," Ruth begged. "I can't go through with it. I'll 
be a good whore. I'll work hard for you ... but don't make me perform 
with this awful beast!"

Pico shrugged. "If you really don't want to ... but I think you should 
consider."

"What do you mean?"

"Either the donkey fucks you or I give you and Paula heroin again ... 
and again ... until both of you will gladly do absolutely anything and 
everything I ask of you."

"Oh, no!"

"Oh, yes, rubia. I'll have my way. Count on it."

All resistance seeped out of Ruth. She knew she would already do 
anything he told her in order to keep him from turning Paula into a 
drug addict. Taking on the donkey was a terrible price to pay, but she 
had no choice. Feeling faint, she forced herself to put her arms around 
the animal's neck. His stiff hair felt like a million pins to her skin, 
but she hugged him and stroked him.

"That's better," Pico said. "Okay, enough petting."

She took her arms away and stepped back. The donkey turned his head and 
rubbed her stomach with his nose. Ruth automatically cringed away.

"Don't pull away from your lover!" Pico snapped. "I think he likes you. 
Kiss him. Pull his head up and kiss his mouth."

"Oh, God," Ruth moaned.

"The syringe ... shall I send Rosa for it?"

"No!"

"Then kiss the donkey. Make me think you like it."

Half lifting the donkey's head and half bending to him, Ruth fought the 
nausea his terribly foul breath caused and kissed his clammy mouth 
quickly.

Pico laughed. "Again. Put your tongue in his mouth this time."

Ruth nearly threw up, but she did as Pico ordered, holding the 
disgusting kiss as long as she could, then spitting on the floor and 
wiping her mouth clean of the animal's thick saliva.

"Not bad," Pico muttered. "Even Rosa could never stomach that."

"I feel sick," Ruth croaked.

"Not yet. You may be sick later if you wish, but you know what will 
happen if you don't finish."

She gulped and shook her head to clear it.

"You may fondle his cock now. Kneel beside him and take it in your 
hand."

Nothing seemed real to Ruth any more. Everything was a nightmare. She 
moved to the donkey, a haze clouding her vision, and dropped to her 
knees.

"Do you see it?"

She saw it, all right, about six inches of it, limber and blue-black, 
hanging with its almost flat glans pointing at the floor.

"Touch it."

Her hand shaking violently, Ruth reached out and touched the soft, warm 
cock, then jerked away from it, then touched it tentatively again.

"That's the way. You see, it isn't as bad as you thought."

And it wasn't as bad as she'd thought, though she still detested having 
to touch the animal's cock.

"Stroke it."

Leaving her hand open, Ruth stroked the soft prick gently.

"Put your fingers around it now. Take it in your hand and make it 
hard."

It was already beginning to grow longer and firmer as Ruth wrapped her 
fingers around it. She moved her hand back and forth along it, feeling 
it become thicker and longer and hotter as she did so. Soon her fingers 
wouldn't touch around it. Its size beginning to scare her, Ruth jerked 
her hand away.

"Very good, rubia. Very good!"

"It's so big!"

"Yes."

"It'll kill me!"

"I think not. I think you'll manage quite well, in fact. Kiss the 
donkey's cock."

"Oh, God! Not that!"

"RUBIA!"

Her heart pounding with fear, Ruth hurriedly swung her head under the 
animal's body and kissed his cock. It felt very hot and hard to her 
lips.

"Lick it."

Expecting to pass out at any second, she extended her tongue and 
licked. But she didn't pass out. In fact, she found licking the 
donkey's dick less distasteful than kissing his mouth.

"Take it in your mouth and suck it."

Wanting to get the sordid act over with as soon as possible, Ruth moved 
her face in front of the blunt-ended prick and took as much of it into 
her mouth as she could manage without choking. She moved her head back 
and forth, letting the foul organ slide in and out of her mouth without 
actually sucking it.

"All right," Pico said. "Enough. Put her on the platform and strap her 
down."

The donkey's cock was as big around as her wrist, and Ruth, greatly 
fearing the moment of penetration, broke away and ran. She reached the 
edge of the stage before Pico overtook her.

"No, no, no!" she screamed as he dragged her back to the platform.

But Pico didn't attempt to silence her. He seemed to enjoy her shrill 
screams as he held her down on her back and Rosa fastened the leather 
straps tightly about her wrists. Then they moved to the other end of 
the special platform and forced her legs wide apart, strapping first 
one ankle into position, then the other.

"She's ready. Bring the donkey."

Ruth couldn't see the animal as they made it rear up and move over her. 
She lay beneath thick boards on which the donkey's hooves clattered as 
Pico and Rosa prodded him into position. Her ass rested on the very 
edge of the lower part of the platform, and she couldn't move it at 
all, try as she did when she felt the blunt glans jab against her cunt.

"He'll kill me! He'll kill me! Somebody help me!"

"Help him get it in her, Rosa."

The next instant Ruth felt a ripping pain race raggedly up from her 
loins. The tip was in. She tried to scream but could only gasp for the 
breath. Then, all at once, the enormous donkey cock battered into her 
until it felt like it was coming up into her throat. The pain was too 
intense. As the donkey began thrusting, Ruth's eyes snapped shut and 
her head rolled to the side.

She was still unconscious when she was carried upstairs and dumped onto 
the bed with Paula.



Chapter 11


Looking at his watch at least two times for each minute that dragged 
by, Elliott limped nervously back and forth in the air-conditioned 
hotel room. She was fifteen minutes late and he was beginning to fear 
she wouldn't show up at all.

"Garza, maybe you'd better call again."

"Relax, Mr. Strickland. She'll be here any minute."

He felt like leaping at the private detective and shaking him into 
action. His professional calmness grated Elliott's on-edge nerves.

"It's sort of a custom down here in the Canal Zone. Call-girls are 
always a few minutes late, especially when they are assigned to an 
American gentleman. The procurer instructs them to do so, knowing the 
American habit of punctuality and wanting to heighten the suspense. 
They think it makes their merchandise more appealing when it finally 
arrives."

"She isn't merchandise!" Elliott bellowed. "Stop talking about her like 
that!"

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Strickland. I meant no disrespect, sir. My 
intention was merely to explain why she is late."

"I'm sorry," Elliott mumbled.

"For nothing. I understand your feelings very well. If it were --"

"That must be her," Elliott said, hurrying to answer the soft knock at 
the door but stopping halfway there, turning around and coming toward 
the couch. "I can't. I'm too nervous."

Garza got calmly to his feet. "Sit down, Mr. Strickland. I'll let her 
in."

"Are you sure it's her?" Elliott demanded, slumping to the couch, 
having trouble breathing because of the turmoil of emotions within him.

"No, sir," Garza answered, moving across the room. "I'm only sure it 
will be the girl I saw in the show. You will have to determine if she 
is your lady."

"Yes. Of course," Elliott said, recalling that Garza had only 
tentatively identified her from the snapshot he'd given him. "Let her 
in, please."

Garza opened the door and she walked sensually into the room, smiling 
seductively and laughing a throaty little laugh as her hand reached 
boldly to his crotch and gave his genitals a promising caress. For the 
first time since Elliott had hired him, Garza seemed ill at ease. He 
cleared his throat and pushed her hand away, motioning with his head to 
where Elliott was sitting.

She threw Elliott a puzzled glance, then turned back to Garza. "What 
are you guys trying to pull?" she demanded. "There was only supposed to 
be one. If I'm going to take you both on, the price is double."

Elliott still wasn't sure. As Garza closed the door and began 
explaining to her in his unhurried way why she was there, Elliott 
looked her up and down carefully. She was blonde, all right, but 
taller, and her body was much more shapely than he remembered. She 
looked older too, but it had been over a year and it was hard to guess 
her age because of the heavy make-up she wore. But she did resemble 
Paula, and when he heard her voice for the second time he knew.

"Paula," he called, unable to wait for Garza to finish his explanation. 
"Paula!"

Her head snapped around, her eyes growing large as she stared at him. 
"Who are you?" she asked fearfully. "How did you know my name?"

Elliott could see the partial recognition in her eyes, as if she 
realized she should know him but couldn't quite place him. He got to 
his feet, holding out his arms, limping toward her, fighting to see 
through the veil of tears forming over his eyes.

"It's your father," Garza said.

"No," she gasped. "He can't be. My father is dead! "

"Don't you recognize me, sweetie?"

"He was badly hurt when he jumped from the plane," Garza said. "He's 
had plastic surgery."

Her mouth hanging open, she stared unblinkingly as he came closer. His 
face was different, more youthful than she remembered it, and slightly 
misshapen, but finally she realized he was her father. She rushed into 
his arms, sobbing happily as she hugged him fiercely.

"Daddy ... oh, Daddy!"

"It's all right, sweetie," he soothed, patting her back. "Everything's 
going to be all right now."

"Oh, my God," she moaned between sobs. "Oh, my God!"

Elliott held her until she stopped crying, talking soothingly to her 
and stroking her back. Then he led her to the couch and sat holding her 
hand, nervously patting it and squeezing it. "Your mother," he asked. 
"How is she?"

His innocent question brought a fresh flood of tears. Paula clenched 
her eyelids tightly shut and lowered her head.

"She's not dead?" Elliott gasped.

Paula shook her head.

"Then what? Is she sick? Tell me, Paula ... I've got to know!"

"Oh, Daddy," she groaned mournfully. "You should have stayed away."

"I couldn't. For God's sake, sweetie! I couldn't just leave you and 
Ruth in that evil monster's clutches! I had to find you! And now that I 
have, I'm going to take you home. Tell me about your mother ... how 
sick is she? Can she travel?"

Paula shook her head. "She isn't sick like you think. We're both sick, 
Daddy. Mother and I are addicts."

"What?"

"Pico forced us to take heroin. He had us held down to give it to us at 
first." She laughed, but it sounded more like a fit of sobbing. "He 
doesn't have to hold us down any more. We'll both do anything for it 
now ... anything!"

"Oh, good Lord!"

"I was afraid of this," Garza said. "It complicates matters."

"You wouldn't believe some of the things, Daddy," Paula said in a tired 
voice -- little more than a whisper.

"Let's go, Garza," Elliott urged. "Let's get the police and get my wife 
out of that awful place right now."

Paula glanced at her father, her young eyes showing surprise at his 
naivete. "Don't count on help from the police."

"She's right," Garza told him. "Too many of them profit from such 
establishments. Even if we were fortunate enough to tell our story to 
an honest police official, by the time any action was taken it would 
probably be too late. Word of the raid would have preceded us and your 
wife wouldn't be there."

"Then, what can we do? For God's sake, Garza, now that I know where she 
is, you don't think I'm going to let her stay there, do you?"

"No, Mr. Strickland. We will act tonight, you and I. I have a plan. But 
we can't do it alone. We will need your daughter's help. Will you help 
us, Miss Strickland?"

"Miss Strickland," she breathed. "Oh, it sounds good to be called that, 
after so long! Yes, Mr. Garza, I'll help you. What do you want me to 
do?"

"Can you get some heroin?" he asked hopefully. "Enough to hold you and 
your mother until you get home and under a doctor's care?"

"No. There's no way."

"Then I'd better see if I can find a pusher and get it that way. We can 
do nothing until we have enough to tide you over."

Paula nodded. "I wouldn't dare try to make the trip without it. Once, 
when I refused to do as Pico ordered, he withheld it from me until I 
was wishing for death. Oh, God ... I never want to go through that 
again!"

"Methadone," Elliott said. "I read an article about methadone once. If 
I rememb --"

"Later, Mr. Strickland. We must act fast if we are to take your wife 
and daughter out tonight. Now, here is my plan. I know you're not going 
to like part of it, Mr. Strickland. But I've thought it out carefully 
and can see no other way to free your loved ones safely. Hear me 
through without interrupting, please."

Elliott nodded.

Garza turned his attention to Paula. "Do you and your mother have free 
run of the place?"

"I do," she said. "But not mother. She's tried to escape so often that 
Pico keeps her locked in her room upstairs except for her performances 
on stage." Paula looked uneasy as she mentioned her mother's stage 
performances.

"I feared as much," Garza said. "I got that impression when I watched 
her being led on and off the stage."

"You've seen the show?" Paula gasped, blushing as she glanced quickly 
at her father.

"I've seen a hundred such shows in at least a dozen cities while I was 
searching for you and your mother. What time is the place the quietest? 
When is everyone asleep? And I mean everyone!"

"Not until about five in the morning."

"Then that's when we'll take you out."

"That'll mean another performance for both Mother and myself," Paula 
said. "We're both on tonight. "

"There must be another way!" Elliott snapped. "I don't want Paula going 
back to that place."

"Hush, Daddy. I'm beginning to see what Mr. Garza has in mind."

"The windows in your mother's room?" Garza asked.

"There's just one, and it's got steel bars."

"The door?"

"Thick and sturdy, padlocked on the hall side."

Garza smiled. "I've yet to find a lock which could resist opening for 
me. Good. Do you sleep with your mother?"

Paula glanced at her father, "Sometimes."

"Can you arrange to sleep with her tonight?"

"I don't know. After my performance I have to ..."

"I understand," Garza said. "But later?"

"I think I can manage."

"You must, Miss Strickland. When your father and I enter that room, you 
will have to be in it." He got up and went to his suitcase to get out a 
cigarette lighter. Handing the lighter to Paula, he asked, "Do you 
smoke?"

She nodded.

"Good. But be sure it's this lighter you take with you into your 
mother's room. It's more than a lighter. It gives off an FM signal. 
That's how we'll locate the room."

"All right," she said, gulping. "You'll come at five?"

"Precisely at five."

"What if I can't manage to be in the room? You could hide in the wine 
cellar and I could come down to the basement and take you to Mother's 
room a few minutes before five."

"There's a wine cellar?"

"Yes. A large one. It's a very old building."

"That's where your father and I will hide," Garza said, his voice 
becoming more and more confident. "We'll slip down to it while the show 
is in progress. Where are the stairs?"

"To the left of the bar," Paula answered, her face beaming with hope.

"Come for us at ten minutes to five, but only if you can't manage to be 
in the room with your mother. It'll be safer for all of us if you're in 
the room with her. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I'll try to sleep with her tonight. After the performance I'll 
pretend I'm sick. I'm rarely sick, so it should work."

"Damn the performance," Elliott hissed. "Be sick before it!"

"No, Mr. Strickland. They mustn't suspect anything. Your daughter will 
have to go on as planned. And Miss Strickland ... don't tell your 
mother anything about all this. If for some reason we should fail, I 
think it best she not know of our attempt. "

"I agree," Paula answered quickly.

"Give your daughter a hundred dollars instead of fifty, Mr. Strickland. 
And Miss Strickland ... when you give the money to this Pico animal, 
try to act very pleased and tell him the extra fifty was a tip because 
your customer was so delighted with you."

"Yes," she said, smiling. "That should put him off guard so far as I'm 
concerned."

Elliott gave her the money and she tucked it into her purse.

"I have to get busy," Garza sighed. "I must get the heroin or we might 
as well forget it for tonight. Stay with your father for the usual 
length of time. I don't want you to get back too early. It would arouse 
suspicions."

"We've got a million things to talk about," Elliott said, taking 
Paula's hand again as Garza put on his coat and walked toward the door.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, Mr. Strickland. You won't do anything 
foolish, will you?"

"I won't let him," Paula assured. "Your plan sounds like our only hope. 
We'll stick to it."

Garza allowed a grin to cross his face. "You've got a very intelligent 
daughter there, Mr. Strickland," he said as he went out the door.

* * *


Huddled in a corner of the dank wine cellar, Elliott sat trying to calm 
himself. Though his blood was racing through his veins, his mind was in 
a state of near shock from watching his wife and daughter go through 
their degrading performances on the stage. The vulgar shouts of the 
men, many of them American servicemen, still rang obscenely in his 
ears. He'd had to sit beside Garza, helpless as he watched the huge 
Negro fuck his daughter until they both shuddered through orgasm. It 
had looked like an actual rape, and Elliott couldn't really believe it 
was happening.

The American men there should have jumped up to stop the lewd act 
rather than shouting their vile encouragements. But they didn't offer 
to help Paula, not one of them, and of course Elliott couldn't, because 
it would have ruined his and Garza's chances to slip Ruth and Paula out 
of the wicked sin palace once and for all. When Paula had finally 
thrown her arms and legs around the pumping black man, shuddering and 
holding tightly to him as she screamed shrilly in orgasm, Elliott had 
nearly fainted. He realized her climax was not faked in any way, 
because the expression of total lust on her beautiful face was entirely 
too intense to have been merely acting.

Then the unbelievable cock had slid from her sweat-soaked body, long 
and shiny black with her juices, and she and the Negro were holding 
hands and smiling as they took their bows. A few moments later Ruth had 
been led onto the stage nude and apparently drugged out of her mind. 
He'd wanted to rush to his wife and take her in his arms, to cover her 
body and lead her off the stage. But the men in the audience were 
clapping and stamping their feet, impatient for Ruth's performance to 
begin.

Full of righteous indignation, Elliott had jumped to his feet only to 
be jerked back into his chair by Garza. "No, Mr. Strickland," Garza had 
said. "You'll spoil everything." And of course Garza was right, so 
Elliott had sat numb and dazed as a donkey was led onto the stage. 
They'd made her masturbate and lick the animal, and Elliott reeled at 
the sight. But he hadn't been forced to witness her actual copulation 
with the shaggy beast. Garza had punched him and motioned for him to 
follow, saying the time was right because all eyes were on the stage. 
But as they'd made their way to the stairs leading down to the wine 
cellar, Elliott had involuntarily glanced back at the stage.

The sight had made him want to kill Pico. He'd seen the flattened, 
thick glans of the donkey's cock pushing into his wife, had heard her 
choking and groaning. Then the animal had hunched forward and sent his 
cock deep into her, and the scream she'd uttered had made Elliott's 
blood run cold.

And now as he sat waiting for five a.m., thinking it would never come, 
he realized that he was going to kill Pico. He knew he would never draw 
another peaceful breath as long as the man responsible for his wife's 
and daughter's misery was alive. It was wrong and he knew it full well, 
but every nerve in him cried out for revenge. If he roasted in hell 
through all eternity for killing the vicious man, so be it; he had to 
do it anyway. He had to!

Holding his knees to his chest, hiding behind a wine cask, Elliott 
dozed off again and again. Each time his tired mind allowed a few 
seconds of slumber he dreamed of the sordid acts he'd seen Ruth and 
Paula in and hated Pico all the more. He would jerk awake for a few 
minutes, gritting his teeth, then would drop off again to hear Ruth 
scream as the donkey slammed into her defenseless body.

"Mr. Strickland. Wake up, Mr. Strickland."

Elliott shook his head to clear it, hooking his fingers over the rim of 
the wine cask and getting to his feet.

"It's time to go, sir. Five minutes to five."

"I'm ready."

"We'll have to be very quiet."

"I'm going to cut Pico's throat."

Garza smiled. "I'll do it for you."

"No. I want him to know who and why before he dies."

Garza nodded, pulling a switchblade from his pocket and handing it to 
Elliott. "It's very sharp. I bought it while I was out getting the 
heroin."

"Let's go," Elliott said, putting the ugly knife in his pocket.

They went cautiously up the stairs, stopping each time their feet 
brought a squeak from the aged timber, listening for sounds in the main 
room above before they moved on. No one was in the barroom when they 
finally entered it. Dawn was just beginning to break, sending enough 
light through the frosted-glass windows for them to pick their way 
silently through the tables and chairs scattered about.

The stairs leading to the second floor were carpeted. Elliott fought 
back the fear rising inside him and followed Garza up. It was very 
dangerous. The burly bouncers and bartenders probably lived in the 
building along with the girls, and from what Elliott had seen of them 
he felt sure they wouldn't hesitate to shoot intruders on sight, 
especially at such an unlikely hour. But his own safety wasn't 
important. The force driving him on was stronger than his fear -- much 
stronger! He would never be able to live with himself if he failed Ruth 
and Paula after getting this close to rescuing them.

"Oh, stop it! Go to sleep!"

Garza put his finger to his lips as they crept past the room the tired 
female voice had come from. All the doors were closed, the sounds of 
snoring drifted into the hall through several of them. Garza had his 
compact radio out, the earplug stuck in his ear, stopping at the few 
doors which were padlocked, shaking his head and going on. Finally, 
after they'd rounded a corner and come near the end of the hall, Garza 
smiled and jerked out the earplug, pointing to the padlocked door as he 
put his radio into his pocket.

"This one's easy," he whispered. "I have a master that should take care 
of it."

Elliott stood by nervously, looking up and down the hall as Garza 
selected one key from the many he carried on his special key ring. It 
slipped into the lock. Garza crossed himself with his free hand, then 
took hold of the lock and turned the key. He let out a sigh of relief 
when the lock snapped open.

Her eyes dancing with excitement and hope, Paula rushed into Elliott's 
arms when he entered the room. "Oh, thank God!" she breathed. "I didn't 
really think you'd make it."

"What's the matter with your mother?" Elliott asked, alarmed at seeing 
Ruth stretched out on the bed fully dressed and sleeping soundly.

"I brought some sleeping pills before I came back here," Paula said. "I 
thought it would be best. Mother's given up all hope. There's no 
telling what kind of a commotion she would have made when she saw you. 
I thought it would be better for her to wake up in your hotel room."

"Good thinking," Garza said softly. "I'll carry her out to the car."

"Where's Pico's room?" Elliott asked.

Paula shivered at the expression on her father's face. "Why? What do 
you want to know that for, Daddy?"

"He has personal business with him," Garza said. "Tell your father 
where Pico is."

"I'll show you," she said.

"Just tell me," Elliott insisted, and when she had told him, he said, 
"Don't wait for me, Garza. Take my darlings out to the car right now. 
If I'm not there in ten minutes, leave without me, understand?"

"Si, Senor. Vaya con Dios, hombre."

Garza's answer startled Elliott. It was the first time he had spoken a 
word of Spanish to him, and he realized from his voice that he was 
doing so now purely out of respect for him. He nodded, waiting until 
Garza had Ruth in his arms and was carrying her from the room. Then he 
kissed Paula's cheek and pushed her after Garza and her mother.

Paula turned back, her eyes pleading with him. "Don't, Daddy. Don't do 
it. He isn't worth it."

Elliott put his finger to his lips and motioned for her to get moving. 
He watched until they went around the corner, then he went to the end 
of the hall and pushed open the door Paula had said was Pico's. The 
shades were drawn, making the room darker than the hall, but Elliott 
recognized the piece of shit that could walk and talk like a man. He 
moved silently and cautiously to the bed, seeing that Pico was not 
alone. The form beside him was that of a girl so young she had only the 
beginnings of breasts and a fine down covering her pubic mound. Both 
were asleep.

Moving to the girl, wanting to get her out of the room, he put his hand 
over her mouth and shook her. She looked more Indian than anything 
else, though she was probably part Negro, judging from the color of her 
skin and her kinky hair. Her eyelids shot up, her large eyes staring up 
fearfully at him. He put his finger to his lips. The fear in the girl's 
eyes lessened. Still holding his hand over her mouth, Elliott helped 
her from the bed and led her into the hall.

"You won't yell, will you?" he asked, praying the girl could understand 
English. She shook her head. He removed his hand, holding his breath. 
When she didn't make a sound, he asked, "Do you want to get out of 
here?"

She nodded.

"Go down to the main room," he whispered. "Wait for me there."

She nodded again, smiling broadly as she went quietly but swiftly down 
the hall and around the corner.

Getting out the switchblade, Elliott tiptoed back into the room. Pico 
hadn't moved once, nor did he stir when Elliott bent over him. He put 
his hand over the sleeping man's mouth, holding the switchblade close 
to his ear as he snapped it open. Pico stirred then, his body squirming 
as his eyes jerked open to gawk disbelievingly at Elliott's threatening 
face. But he said nothing and didn't try to pull away, for Elliott had 
the point of the knife pressed -- businesslike -- into the hollow of 
his throat.

"One sound and you're dead!" Elliott hissed.

Pico groaned softly, his body going limp as his eyes grew large with 
fear.

"Do you know who I am?"

Pico shook his head as best he could with the point of the knife 
gouging at his throat.

"I'm Elliott Strickland. You abducted me along with my wife and 
daughter in Juarez more than a year ago."

Elliott felt sick as he saw stark fear filling Pico's eyes. He pulled 
the knife point away, bringing the cutting edge of the long, wicked 
blade into position at the front of Pico's gulping throat. But he 
couldn't do it. It was cold-blooded murder, and no matter how much Pico 
deserved to die, Elliott couldn't bring himself to slit the worthless 
throat. He held the blade tightly against his moist skin, reaching down 
to the floor and picking up Pico's discarded shorts.

"I don't want to kill you. Do as I say, and I'll turn you over to the 
police. But I will kill you if I have to. If you make one sound or 
resist me in any way, I'll cut your evil heart out! Do you understand?"

Pico nodded, closing his eyes.

"Open your mouth wide," Elliott ordered.

When Pico did, he stuffed the soiled shorts in to prevent him from 
calling out.

He grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm, forcing Pico out of bed with 
the pain he caused him, jerking his arm behind his back and shoving him 
from the room and down the hall.

The pubescent girl was sitting at the bar, waiting patiently when 
Elliott came into the main room pushing Pico along in front of him.

"Keel heem!" the girl shouted. "Keel heem!"

"Be quiet!"

"No! Pico mus' die! Keel heem!"

To no avail, Elliott tried to calm the girl. She acted like a demon had 
suddenly taken possession of her, screaming at the top of her lungs as 
she darted behind the bar and came out brandishing a large butcher 
knife. She rushed them, clawing at Pico's chest as she slashed his 
throat from ear to ear with one deft whack.

"Come on!" Elliott yelled, grabbing her wrist and letting Pico slump to 
the floor as he hurried her toward the exit.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, coming toward them fast and heavy. 
Elliott dragged the nude girl along, hurrying her toward the door which 
Garza had left standing open. They were in the doorway when the first 
shot rang out. Elliott cringed at the pain in his shoulder but kept 
running for all he was worth, limping as he always did now because of 
his jump from the plane.

The girl crumpled as the second shot sounded, falling with a thud onto 
the concrete steps. Elliott lost his grip on her wrist, stopping 
immediately to bend down and pick her up. Another shot rang out, this 
time coming from outside. One of the bouncers grabbed his face and fell 
screaming in the doorway.

"Come on, hombre!" Garza yelled. "Hurry!"

Elliott scooped up the injured girl, the pain in his shoulder nearly 
blinding him as he staggered toward the idling car. Then he was inside 
and slamming the door shut, the car roaring and spinning rubber as it 
sped away.


The End