by Paul Blades
Stitch and Jack ignored Darla’s protestation. Stitch pulled hard on the leash, forcing Darla to edge herself over to him on her knees. The apertures for her eyes and mouth were closed and she had that ball in her mouth that Jack liked to use to keep her silent. Stitch dropped both feet to the floor and maneuvered her between his thighs. He lowered his fly and retrieved his flaccid cock. He then unzipped Darla’s mouth, ordered her to spread her lips and urged the little ball out of it.
“Keep yer mouth open, cunt,” he told her. Darla kept her lips spread wide. Stitch gave his cock a few tugs to get it started and then, holding onto it with his left hand, took hold of Darla’s head with his right and pressed her mouth to it. When his cock brushed across her lips, Darla obediently gobbled it up and began a slow, sensual suckle on it just as if she were drinking from a big, fat nipple.
Jack watched the shiny, black leather clad head begin to bob back and forth. He had shaved her head bald when he got her here so the hood fit her nice and tight. Her head was kind of round and the close fitting hood made it look almost like an 8 ball. He had attached little bells with sharp pointed, steel clips to her nipples and they jangled softly from her exertions, echoing out to the silent desert dusk. He took another sip of his Courvoisier and a tug on his cigar. He leaned back and closed his eyes, just reveling in the cool, quiet night. Darla’s soft moans and slurps mingled with the sound of the tinny bells, providing a pleasant backdrop to his reverie.
It was just a few minutes after Stitch groaned his pleasure, spurting himself into Darla’s eager, obedient mouth, when Jack heard the sound of a small plane engine from far away. A few of the boys, Rocker, Chas, Billy and another guy he didn’t know, had gone out to the landing field and set up the lights that would guide the plane in. The plane, painted jet black, was almost invisible as it circled the landing field. It took a wide turn and coasted in. Ten minutes later, two battered, old pickups and a bright, shiny SUV pulled up to the house.
Seated in the bed of the pickups were four of Lorenzo’s boys, two to each, together with ten lovely looking, brown skinned beauties all dressed in stylish fineries, hooded and bound. Lorenzo and his main man, Manuelo, were in the SUV. Rocker was driving.
Lorenzo hopped out of the SUV and gave his men a sharp order in Spanish. The men transmitted the order to the young women who, uttering muffled cries and sobs, were led to the tailgate of the pickups and brought to the ground. They all wore thick leather collars around their necks and Lorenzo’s men hooked them together with chains and led them into the house.
Lorenzo came up to Jack. It was dark out, but there was a little light from the crescent moon and from the window behind them. Jack could see the man’s snarly face, made more grotesque by the shadows that flitted across it.
“Buenas noches, ‘Blackjack’,” Lorenzo growled, accenting his nickname with a coating of provocative irony.
“Buenas noches, Hijo,” Jack replied sardonically. He knew that referring to him as ‘junior’ really got his goat. He knew he shouldn’t do it, but he couldn’t resist it. Besides, the last thing he wanted to do was let the man get the better of him. He saw Lorenzo’s face evidence a small, involuntary frown and then return to his bright, unctuous, glistening smile.
“Not always, hijo,” he told Jack. “Someday soon it will be ‘major’ and then we will have a little chat.”
“I can’t wait,” Jack replied.
The Mexican girls had all been herded into the mansion. Lorenzo looked down at Darla. “Why don’t you bring our new guest inside so I can get a better look at her,” Lorenzo said.
“Sure,” Jack answered.
Stitch handed him back her chain and the little blue ball that he had been holding. Jack pulled on Darla’s chain and ordered her to her feet. He led her into the building.
In the main room the naked, bound Anglo girls, hooded and gagged, were all kneeling down in a little line front to back. The Mexican girls were kneeling similarly, but in the opposite direction, away from the door. The room was filled with their collective, muted sobs of misery and whines of fear. As leader of the Rogue’s crew, Ike was a necessary party to these kinds of transactions and he had not come downstairs yet. Mouse, his aide de camp, was standing by, making sure that protocol was followed. He also had the valise containing the cash resting on the floor next to him.
Lorenzo, forced to wait, was impatient. His men, all dressed roughly in boots and jeans, all with side arms strapped to their hips were eying the Anglo girls. There would be a party tonight at the Morales hacienda and the girls would all be invited.
The main room was where the Rogues hung out and partied. It was casually kept by Stitch and there was still a large barrel of empty beer and booze bottles from their last fete sitting in the corner. The large flat screen TV on the wall was off and was reflecting back the occupants of the room. One of the movie posters had been replaced since the last time Jack had been here. Now, instead of the Dennis Hopper poster was a poster of The Wild Bunch with the lead characters all advancing on the viewer with their firearms displayed. On the coffee table there was a large ashtray full of butts among which were several fairly large sized roaches.
The cages where the girls were kept were empty but for one. In it was a blond haired girl, Marla Thompson, from just outside Wichita. She had been sold to the local Rogues chapter by a girlfriend who was vying for her boyfriend’s affections. Ironically, they had seized the girlfriend too, Brenda Prentiss, and she was now kneeling, the third girl down, miserably repentant and awaiting disposition. Stitch had trained the shapely and compliant 19 year old blond girl to do the housework and such, and to help tend to the other girls, and so, with Ike’s permission, Marla was going to be kept around for a little while longer. She was gagged, but not hooded, and was staring out at the proceedings from behind the cage’s thin, black bars wide eyed and with obviously alarmed concern.
Rocker, Chas, Billy and the other biker who Jack didn’t know were standing around eying the hooded Mexican girls, contemplating a party of their own. They were also armed, as was Mouse.
“Come on, let’s get this dance started!” Lorenzo complained. He looked at Jack’s hooded prisoner. He stepped up in front of her. Jack still held her chain.
“So tell me, Jack,” Lorenzo asked, “does this pig suck cock as good as the one you sold us last time you were here?”
Jack tried not to rise to the bait. “You’ll have to decide that for yourself,” he answered.
Lorenzo put his hands up to Darla’s face, or where her face should have been, and took hold of the flaps that concealed her eyes. He lifted them up. Darla’s large blue eyes blinked as she got used to the light. When she saw the leering Mexican before her, her eyes winced. Jack had left her mouth opening unzipped and with the exposure of her eyes, she almost had a human face again. Her mouth was downturned and she emitted a small whine.
“What pretty eyes for a pig,” Lorenzo announced. “I already have a little doggy around the house, maybe I could use a pig too. Say ‘oink, oink,’” he ordered Darla.
Jack knew that Darla would be spending most of her time with him, but she didn’t. The thought of being at Lorenzo’s mercies made her shiver. She had been condemned to silence by Jack ever since she had arrived at the Rogue’s headquarters, a rule which Jack sternly and brutally enforced, but the urge to make some tiny effort to help herself became irresistible.
“Please, don’t,” she whispered softly and sadly, a quiver in her voice.
Lorenzo laughed. “Ahhhhhhh! The piggy talks! But piggies aren’t supposed to talk. They go ‘oink, oink.’” He took hold of her nipples and gave them a vicious twist, making her bells jangle. “Talk to me, piggy!” he snarled. “Let me hear you go, ‘oink, oink’ or I’ll twist your tits off!”
Darla moaned from the pain and her body sagged. Her eyes had filled up with tears. “Oooouuuuuuuu!” she moaned. Lorenzo twisted harder.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhh!” Darla cried out louder. She yelled out. “Oink, oink!”
Lorenzo laughed. He turned to his men still holding on to Darla’s teats and said something to them in Spanish. They all laughed too.
“Let’s hear it again, piggy!” he told the distraught woman, squeezing her teats again. “Nice and loud so my boys can hear it!”
Darla cried out again, “Oink, oink!” and then, “Please let go! Please! Please!”
Jack had stood and allowed Lorenzo to torment the woman basically because he didn’t give a shit about her. But now she was talking when he had ordered her to remain silent. It reflected on him and his discipline of her. He pulled her chain sharply. Lorenzo, surprised at the violence of Jack’s reaction, released her nipples. “What did I tell you, cunt!” Jack growled at her. Her eyes were opened wide with fear. Jack gave her breasts two mighty slaps with his free hand.
“Oh! Oh!” Darla exclaimed. Jack pulled her close to him and zippered her mouth shut. He then yanked her over to one of the mangy armchairs and toppled her over the arm, holding her head down with the chain. The chain was in his left hand and his right hand came speeding down and landed on the woman’s rear right cheek. There was a loud slapping noise and Darla screeched from inside her mask. Jack struck her five more times, alternating cheeks, so hard that it forced the chair she was leaning over to jump at each blow. Bright red splotches arose on her rear. She shrieked and howled.
When he was done, Jack yanked Darla back to her feet. Tears were running down the outside of the hood. “You better learn, cunt, or you will live in a world of pain! Got that?”
Darla nodded fervently. Jack pulled down the eyes flaps and sealed her off from the world again. He handed the leash off to Lorenzo. “Here, you take her,” he said brusquely.
Lorenzo was about to make some snarly comment to him when a door upstairs opened. Everyone turned to the second floor balcony. It was Ike. He walked along the balcony calmly and slowly and then turned to come down the stairs. He had a naked, young, black haired Hispanic girl in tow. She was sobbing through her gag. There were fresh whip marks over her breasts and thighs and the insides of her thighs were shiny with cum. She was wearing the Rogues’ standard black leather collar and bracelets on her ankles. You could make a good guess that her wrists, which were concealed behind her, were similarly encircled and had been joined together.
Ike, at close to 6 ½ feet tall, towered over the small girl. He was wearing black jeans and a faded orange t-shirt from an Albuquerque rodeo pulled tight across his muscular chest. His longish black hair, tinged with just a touch of gray, was wild and unkempt.
The girl was the daughter of the maid from the Chavez house. Jack had tried her out a few times during his one week stay. She had been sweet. If you just gave her a few slaps and got her warmed up a bit, she was a pretty good fuck. Ike, however, for whatever reason, always got a little rough with her.
He brought her down and ordered her into one of the cages. When she was ensconced, he locked her in and then announced, “Lets get this over with.”
He and Lorenzo examined each of the 6 Anglo girls they had accumulated. Lorenzo was a tough bargainer, but the girls were almost all class ‘A’ stock and the market price for them was well set, give or take a few thousand here and there. One was a little scraggly, thin and gangly and with a horse-like face. Looks could be deceiving though, because, from personal experience, Jack knew that she fucked like a cat in heat and gave a wondrous blowjob. She had a habit of wrapping her long legs around you and digging her heels into your back when you fucked her. There was no way you could tell these things from just looking at her though and Ike had to knock down her price a bit.
As they went through them, one by one, Lorenzo’s men bound the girls up in the Morales’ gear. They cried and sobbed and a few of them had to be wanded in order to get them to cooperate. One of the men would curse and then, a moment or two later there would be a loud, ‘crack!’ and then a high pitched, feminine howl. One of the girls, Doris Goodman, a feisty brunette from Portland who had been captured after getting falling down drunk at a frat party at the University of Arizona, with splendid breasts and delicious, thick but graceful thighs, had to be wanded three times before she would settle down. Jack had fucked her too. It had been like wrestling with a bobcat. Marvelous. He made a note to look her up at the Morales bordello when he got back to see if they kept her or shipped her out.
Then they checked out the Mexican girls. They were all pretty skittish from hearing the cries and sobs of the Anglo girls. Since they were dressed, they had to open or pull up their blouses and lift their skirts to really get a good look at them. They had all been stripped of underwear. A couple were a little chubby, something that could easily be resolved, but all the others were primo. The negotiating went the other way this time, but, like the Anglo girls, the market for them was well known and it didn’t take long for Ike and Lorenzo to come to a meeting of the minds. Only one of the girls broke discipline, releasing sob filled pleas in Spanish to be released. One crack of a wand between her thighs and a vicious slap from Ike quieted her down. As each girl was looked at, her gag and hood was restored and she was forced to kneel back down in place.
All that was left was for Mouse to check out the dope and for the money to be counted. When that was done, shots of tequila were passed around and everybody became friendly again. One of Lorenzo’s men produced a two foot long and wide, sealed bag of dark greenish vegetation and presented it to Rocker. Ike had Diamondback caps and t-shirts for everyone since the ball club was hot and ahead in the race for the NL Western Division Championship. They had a rookie backup infielder named Miguel Ferriero who was hitting .298 and had 7 home runs as a pinch hitter. He was originally from Monterrey. The shirts had his name and number on the back. They were a big hit.
Ike and Lorenzo shook hands and the Anglo girls were all made to stand. They were led out the door in a coffle, moaning and whining, and onto one of the pickup trucks. Jack stood on the porch and watched Lorenzo lead Mrs. Chavez to the back seat of the SUV and load her in. Jack didn’t worry too much about her. Like Mrs. Ramirez, she would be taken directly to Mr. Morales’ hacienda and kept there for his pleasure until Jack got back. It was funny though. There had been news headlines for the first couple of days after Jack had snatched her, but nothing since. Usually the news people would be all over a thing like this, like they had with the Ramirez woman. Jack just shrugged his shoulders. Maybe Mr. Morales had made a deal for her already. That would be a pity since he was looking forward to having her around for few months.
The pickups and the SUV pulled away and headed for the plane. The pilot always waited there in case there was a need for a quick lift off. Jack had left his cigar and cognac on the porch. He relit the cigar and took a pull from the cognac, finishing it off. After a few minutes, he heard the plane’s engines surge and then saw its faint outline as it sped on to liftoff with its load of 6 fresh, young Anglo girls for the Mexican meat market. When he lost sight of it in the air, he turned and went back inside. He took one of the new Mexican girls upstairs and fucked her while she whined and cried and moaned with pleasure.
CHAPTER FIVE
Carly scrambled to her knees, raised her head and yelled, “Yarp! Yarp! Yarp! Yarp! Yarp!”
She knew this one. It was Diego, one of Lorenzo’s men. He had fucked her two, no, three nights ago. He had been rough with her, like most of the men, giving her ass and breasts vicious slaps, twisting her nipples, before forcing her over one of the large, embroidered pillows in Lorenzo’s ‘play room’ and driving his cock into her bowels. He took a cruel grasp of her three inch long hair and pulled her head back, ordering, “¡Ladra! ¡Fuerte! ¡Fuerte! ¡Ladra fuerte!” And she barked and barked and barked as loud as she could while he pistoned his thick prick in an out of her smaller opening. The other men were so amused that when he had grunted out his orgasm and spilled himself within her, Lorenzo ordered her to give another round of blowjobs to his guests.
Diego was short, but muscular, with black hair cut into a mop and a r
ough, whiskered face. She guessed him to be in his early thirties. He was wearing a denim shirt and chinos with shiny, pointed brown boots. He smiled when she gained his attention and approached her. When he got near, Carly, as she had been trained, sat back on her heels, lifted her paws into begging position, hung her tongue out of her widespread mouth and whined sadly, “Nyuh, nyuh, nyuh, nyuuuuuuuh!”
He brushed his hand in her hair and chuckled. “Sorry. Not today, perrita,” he said. “I’m in a hurry. Maybe maňana.” He stepped away and headed down the hall towards the kitchen, but not before giving her teat a vicious twist that made her squeal.
Happy to see the man go without abusing her further, Carly crawled back to the big, dark brown, wicker doggie bed that Vincenzo had placed there for her. Its bottom was well padded and it had several, large, firm, colorful pillows in it. With her ankles tied off to the tops of her thighs it was a little difficult to get comfortable, but she managed to find a position which was not too awkward.
After she got settled, placing out of the way the 15’chain that connected the back of her collar to a ring in the floor in front of her little doggie bed, she looked over at the shiny steel doggie bowl that held her water. She was a little thirsty, but it had taken some effort to get comfortable so she decided to wait a while before taking a drink. Besides, there was no way of telling when one of the maids would come by and take her for a walk and the last time she had had an ‘accident’ she had paid dearly for it.
The doggie bed was located just opposite the tall, thick dark oak doors that were the main entrance to the house. The floor to the circular foyer was a pinkish marble with veins of blue and grey in it. The ceiling went all the way up to the roof of the house. The walls were yellowish-beige stucco. Her bed was situate at the far side of the circle opposite the door. To her left was the wide, curved, marble staircase that led to the upper floor. It had bright, shiny brass railings topped with black onyx. To her right was a hallway that passed by the luxuriously appointed dining room and to the kitchen and the rear of the house. Also on the right was a formal study filled with books that nobody read. An immense, specially designed, crystal chandelier hung in the middle.
