Convict's Captive Book 4: Welcome to Mexico

by Paul Blades

  “Oh, you play the game so well, putita,” Lorenzo said to her laughingly. “I’d put your gag back in, but I really want to hear you scream.”

  He reared back his hand and brought the pizzle forward with all of his brute force. Carly saw it moving towards her. Her panicked brain slowed it down so that she had time for her prayer for mercy to flash across her brain, “No! Please! Please don’t do it! Please! Please!”

  The bull’s pizzle struck her across her breasts. It made a loud cracking sound and sent a scorching heat across her breasts like a branding iron had been laid across them. She wanted to scream, but the blow had forced her to take in her breath and she couldn’t stop inhaling, the air wheezing into her lungs. Her lungs paused and stood still, as if paralyzed. She was desperately trying to force the air out, choking and gurgling. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Her face was a masque of agony.

  And then, finally, her breath released and she screamed out her pain, “Auuuuuuugghhhhhhheeeeee! Auuuuuuugghhhhhhheeeeee! Auuuuuuugghhhhhhheeeeee!” The fire just kept burning and burning and burning across her breasts. “Auuuuuuugghhhhhhheeeeee!” she screamed. “Auuuuuuugghhhhhhheeeeee! Auuuuuuugghhhhhhheeeeee!”

  Lorenzo’s face was lit up with immense satisfaction. Carly didn’t want to beg, but she couldn’t help herself. “Pleeeeeeeease, no! Pleeeeeeeeeease, no more! Pleeeeeeeeease!”

  The whip curled over Lorenzo’s shoulder again and it came down across her belly. The pain was immediate and felt like a jagged glass had been dragged across her skin. “Auuuuuuugghhhhhhheeeeee! Auuuuuuugghhhhhhheeeeee! Auuuuuuugghhhhhhheeeeee!” she screamed again. She twisted and turned frantically in her bindings, but could not move. The pizzle was yanked into the air again and, in a flash, had scraped across the front of her thighs.

  “Auuuuuuugghhhhhhheeeeee! Auuuuuuugghhhhhhheeeeee! Auuuuuuugghhhhhhheeeeee!” she called out piteously. “Ohhhhhhhhhhh, god, no! Pleeeeeeease stop! Pleeeeeease! Pleeeeeease! Pleeeeeeeease!” she begged.

  Lorenzo’s face was wild with passionate satisfaction. He circled behind her. She tried to turn to see him, but she could not move her head enough due to the confinement of her raised arms. She knew that he had thrown the whip forward again when she felt its fiery bite across her distended back. She screamed again and again and begged, begged, begged with all her might for the man to stop.

  “You’re doing good, putita!” Lorenzo returned. “It’s marvelous to hear you scream. Whatever you do, don’t stop. It makes such marvelous music!”

  A moment later the pizzle struck her again across her lower back. The fire burned all through her. She realized that he screams and pleas were just what the man wanted and that each scream and plea fueled his lust just a little bit more. When the fire raged across her back, she tried to hold it in, but, after a few, brief moments of wheezing and straining and gurgling, she couldn’t.

  “Auuuuuuugghhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Auuuuuuugghhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeee!” she cried out again. Lorenzo slammed a fierce blow across her buttocks, and then another and then another, making the poor girl wail and wail and scream and wail and scream again until her throat began to burn. He did the back of her shins and then came around the front to do her thighs again and work his way up to her breasts.

  She was blubbering madly, her face wrenched into a caricature of a human expression. Her cheeks were awash with her tears. She was slobbering long drips of saliva and her nose dripped long, clingy fluids. She saw him readying another blow for her still burning breasts and she uttered a deep, mournful, otherworldly moan.

  Neither the piteous sight of her nor her unearthly, despairing sounds caused Lorenzo even a moment’s hesitation. He let fly, this blow coming from left to right, to match the first which came right to left. The pizzle made the girl’s breasts jolt and bounce admirably. Her blood curdling screams produced a pleasure so exquisite and so intense for the man that his rigid manhood, all on its own, began to spurt and jump and spasm. Lorenzo grabbed it with his right hand, dropping the pizzle to the floor, and yanked and pulled at his reddened, rigid protuberance, his eyes closed to slits, his back arched and his legs bent. He fell to his knees, tugging frantically at his cock, grunting and groaning loud enough to match the earth shattering sobs being emitted by his victim

  Lorenzo moaned for a while, tugging his softening cock slowly. Carly tried desperately to catch her breath. She couldn’t stop sobbing. She looked down to her breasts to see the dark purple, reddish tinged lines across them. She hoped and prayed that her torment was at an end. She cursed the man who had delivered her into this man’s hands. Her mind sought desperately for a way to make herself believe that somehow she would escape. She knew that if the man abused her this way every night, she would quickly lose her mind.

  She looked over at her owner. He was still tugging his prick, a huge smile on his face. His eyes were closed, but then he opened them and saw her looking at him.

  “Ahhhhhhhhh, that was good, putita!” he exclaimed. “You scream most wonderfully. You made me pop my cork!” He rose to his feet. His cum was slavered all over his hand. Carly could smell it. He came close to her. “Házme un favor, little whore, lick up all my cum. It’s made my hand all sticky.”

  Carly was still shaking from her ordeal. Her skin still burned. She looked at his slimy hand with revulsion. She knew she had to do it. She had to do anything that he said. But her stomach churned at just the thought of it. Nonetheless, when he presented his cum coated hand to her, she opened her mouth, her lips trembling, and began to lick all of the foul substance away.

  He twisted and turned his hand so that she could get all of it, spreading his fingers so that she could get inside them. While she lathered her tongue over his digits, he kept up a running commentary on how beautiful she was when she cried out in pain, how her screams were such sweet music to him. “But, you know, guarra, you talk way too much,” he told her. “I’ll have to have Lorenzo give you a little lesson tomorrow. You’ll remember to keep quiet after that. After all, remember, guarra, you’re not a person anymore. You’re just a little fuck animal I brought back with me from el Norte. Una peqena perrita para singar. A little fuck doggie.” He paused a moment to watch her forlorn eyes receive his taunts. And then he lit up like an idea had crossed his mind.

  “I know!” he said, pulling his hand away. “You need a little reminder. I think I have just what you need.”

  Carly watched him lurch over to the cabinet and open it. She was beginning to understand that it was chock full of unhappy things. He reached in and grabbed something and came back to her. He held it up for her to see it. It was a headpiece with firm wires that ran across the top of the head. On each end was a tan colored cup just big enough to cover the ears. Dangling from the top of them, on little rings, were two long and wide, furry, dark colored dog’s ears.

  Lorenzo put the wire frame on top of her head and adjusted it so that the cups covered her ears. Then he stood back. The dog ears drooped down to the tops of her shoulders. Carly started to sob again. It was all too much to bear. Lorenzo laughed. “But you look so pretty, muchacha,” he said. “Let me hear you bark. Give me a nice, loud one.”

  Carly looked at him. Her stomach was in a knot. She knew that he was a man with no limits and that each time she surrendered to him, allowed him to humiliate and abuse her, it would inevitably lead to more and more, deeper and deeper humiliation and abuse, until she had no personhood left. She dared not challenge him though. The pizzle was still on the floor where he had thrown it and she could see it easily. It would only take a second for him to pick it up and renew her torture.

  Trembling, crying, her body sickened, she issued a muted bark. It came out as, “Yarp.”

  He hand lashed out, rocking her head. She cried out. She felt herself on the verge of bawling. And then what would he do? She couldn’t bear the thought of it.

  “¡Escucha perrita! Listen, little doggie! I want to hear you bark real loud, like a real doggie! Fuck with me and I’ll have you sliced open and burnt ov
er a fire! Una barbacoa Monterrey, a Monterrey barbeque! ¿Entiendes, puta?”

  She looked at him with a vision of being stretched out over an open grill, screaming her lungs out. She believed he would do it. Or something else just as bad.

  “Si, maestro,” she blurted out mournfully.

  “Then bark! ¡Ladra! ¡Fuerte como un perra! Loud as a dog!”

  Carly dug down deep for the strength to obey the man’s command. Fighting back hysterical collapse, she shouted, “Yarp!”

  Lorenzo laughed. “¡Bueno! ¡Otra vez! Again!”

  “Yarp!” she screamed again, tears flowing down her face.

  Lorenzo laughed again. “¡Otra vez! ¡Mas fuerte! Louder!”

  She did it again, at the top of her lungs. Lorenzo reached out and rubbed her on the top of her head. “Bueno, perrita,” he said. “And now I think I’ll take you for a little walk. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

  He stumbled over to the cabinet again and returned with a leash. He attached it to the back of her collar. Then he released her raised hands and told her to kneel on the floor.

  She was happy to have her hands free again, but fearful of what the man intended. “En las manos y las rodillas. On your hands and knees,” he told her. She complied at once. The furry ears slipped on the rings and hung down on either side of her face. She could just see them from the corner of her eyes as she stared at the rug underneath her. She felt a tug on the leash.

  “¡Vamos a dar un pequeño paseo, guarra!” he commanded. “Let’s go for a little walk!”

  Morosely, Carly followed the tug of the leash. She didn’t care to look up. Her humiliation and shame was so overwhelming. He led her in a big circle around the room. Every once in a while he would shout out, “¡Ladra! ¡Fuerte!” and she would bark as loud as she could. It made him laugh every time. When they passed the bottle of tequila he had brought, he grabbed it and guzzled it as they walked. He stopped her from time to time and made her take long swigs that made her cough and choke. He would make her bark then and get back on her heels, raise her hands and beg like a dog. “¡Di ‘Más tequila por favor, maestro!’ Say, ‘More tequila, please, master!” And she would comply, tearfully.

  They made several rounds, more than ten. Lorenzo just kept laughing and drinking and making her beg for more tequila. It got so that the rush of warmth that the alcohol brought her and the swimming feeling she got in her head was becoming welcome. Finally, he brought her to a halt. He yanked on her leash. “¡Arriba!” he spat out. She sat back on her heels and lifted her hands in front of her like she had been taught.

  One of his hands circled the neck of the tequila bottle while holding onto her leash and one was coaxing his cock into hardness.

  “It’s time you paid me back for all the fun I’ve been giving you, whore,” he snarled. “¡Abre tu boca!”

  Carly opened her mouth. Her eyes were pinned to the man’s protuberance. It was filling with blood and getting rubbery and long and thick. Its head was sleek and uncut. She felt a sob welling up inside her but suppressed it.

  “Just suckle on the end for a minute or so, putita,” Lorenzo said snarlingly, “and then we’ll see if we can get in all inside.”

  She leaned forward and closed her lips around the end. Her stomach wrenched in revulsion. She began to give the end a gentle suck and she twirled her tongue around it. Lorenzo released a long, deep sigh.

  “That’s it, whore, that’s it,” he said. “Now push the skin back with your lips and tickle the tip.”

  She did what he said. The skin pulled back and she ran her tongue over the tender interior. She was pressed up against the man, her fluttering, half bent hands brushing up against his thighs. She had her eyes jammed closed in a futile attempt to block out what was happening to her. The cock was hot and salty and slimy from his earlier activities. Carly cringed at the thought of where it had been.

  He let her continue for a minute or two. “Okay,” he then said, “let’s get it all inside you.”

  He pushed his cock forward until it had breached the edge of Carly’s throat. The sensation of it filling her mouth, sliding over her pursed lips, depressing her tongue, made her stomach churn. Everything inside her wanted to chomp fiercely at the evil instrument, to mash it with her teeth until the man howled with pain. Instead, rabidly fearful of the consequences of the least rebellion, she made a perfect home for the long, thick, salty transgressor. She narrowed the inside of her mouth to give it maximum friction. She pressed her lips firmly against it. She hoped desperately that this would accelerate the man’s completion, bring an early end to her mouth’s abuse, bring closer the moment when her night’s torment would be finally at an end.

  But Lorenzo was in no hurry. Taking hold of the hair on the girl’s head with his free hand, he slowly slid his manhood back and forth, sighing, moaning, murmuring his pleasure. Every thrust sent a new wave of revulsion throughout Carly’s body. She slurped and suckled and ran her tongue over the head of the iron hard projection each time on its retreat and on each advance until it pressed past her tongue and jammed against the back of her mouth.

  “Ahhhhhhhhh, bueno, mi pequeña perrita,” Lorenzo moaned. “You’re mouth fits me like a glove. Wait until I tell all mi amigos what a good cocksucker you are. They’ll be lined up out the door!”

  Carly did not greet this information with any pleasure. It confirmed her worst fears of being forced to service a series of scrofulous men for the rest of her life. She wanted to get up and run away, but she knew it was useless. No. She had to wait. Some time would come when her chances of escape would improve. They just had to!

  Lorenzo’s thrusts were coming harder now. His hands were gripping her short, red hair tightly. His moans were coming louder and longer. “Come, you motherfucker! Come already! Please! Please! Please!” Carly thought. She didn’t like the idea of her mouth being suffused with the man’s foul discharge, subsuming it into her belly, experiencing that sweetly sour, pasty taste, but she wanted her night to be over and knew there was only one way that was going to happen. She increased her efforts, gripping his cock tighter with her lips, sloshing her tongue more insistently across it whenever she got the chance. Her hands were still held up like little doggie’s paws and she yearned to use them to caress the man’s thighs and belly to encourage his emission.

  Suddenly, he stopped. He held the girl’s head frozen still, as if waiting for the nearness of his crises to pass. He was lodged deep in her mouth and her tongue was pressed down. She couldn’t do anything to encourage his orgasm. His cock lay there like an offensive being. She wanted to vomit it out of her mouth. She moaned in unhappiness. He had been so close, she just knew it.

  “Hmmmmmmmmmmmm,” he moaned. “You almost had me there, perrita,” he said softly. “But mi pinga is destined for greater things tonight. I’m going to fuck you, perrita, in just a little while, so you better be good.”

  He had started his motion again, slowly, slowly, slowly. Carly’s eyes started to tear at the thought of him inside her, of the forced intimacy, his body covering hers, his hands on her breasts, his tongue in her mouth, helpless, her thighs spread, his bulk atop her.

  The cock kept sliding back and forth slowly, like the man just couldn’t get himself to end the pleasurable sensations her mouth brought him. She was still suckling at it softly, knowing that if she failed to please him she would be punished, but knowing too that if somehow she made him come by mistake, deprived him of his chance to pierce her belly with his prick, he would do something horrible to her.

  Finally, he pulled out, his cock jerking like a spring board as it exited. Her mouth made a little popping sound. He stood back. He still had her leash in his hand. He was smiling at her. “Give us a little bark, perrita,” he told her.

  Her face contorted into unhappiness. “Yarp!” she emitted in response to his command. He laughed. His cock was buoyed by his mirth, bobbing up and down. “¡Otra vez!” he commanded. “Give me three good ones. ¡Fuerte!”

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nbsp; She cringed. She was kneeling back on her haunches, her hands up like little begging paws, her long, reddish brown ears hanging down to her shoulders. “Yarp! Yarp! Yarp!” she blurted out. Lorenzo laughed again. Then he gave her leash a tug. “Manos y las rodillas,” he spat out.

  She remembered what that meant. She fell down onto her hands and lifted her rear. He pulled her into motion and headed towards the bed. He still had the bottle of tequila in his hand and, as they got to the bed, he took a long swallow. He yanked on her chain, “Arriba,” he snarled. She rose up, her hands in position like he had taught her.

  “¡Abre tu boca!” he ordered. She opened her mouth. He brought the tequila bottle to her lips and, with his other hand, tilted her head back. He began to fill her mouth up with the harsh liquor.

  “Mmmmmmmmmm!” Carly moaned desperately. She was forced to swallow and the liquid burned her throat. He stopped pouring when she had gotten a full mouthful. It took her two swallows to get it all down. The room swooned.

  “That’s the girl!” he said to her. “You drink like a natural whore. It’s lucky for you my father bought you for me. You’ll get plenty of chances to get yourself stuffed with cocks. You are going to be in whore heaven!” He laughed. Carly didn’t think it was funny. Just the thought of what her future undoubtedly held made her want to crawl up and die. And tonight it would start. She was about to get her first fuck as a genuine slave girl, property, not some forlorn hostage temporarily at the mercy of her captor, but owned like a horse or a cow or, yes, like a dog. She became conscious of her floppy ears. She remembered her barks. “Just like a dog,” she thought.

  He yanked her chain again. “Get up on the bed!” he barked, “Sube a la cama!” “On your back with your legs spread wide,” he told her.