Convict's Captive Book 4: Welcome to Mexico

by Paul Blades

  When she had wound down, she loosened her ankles and pushed Carly’s head away. She was breathing deeply and her body gave several little jumps as the aftershock of her orgasm struck her. Carly face was still only inches from her quim. The organ was messy and oily and red. Its moisture had spread to the curly jungle on either side, matting it. Carly’s face was slick and the smell of sex was everywhere.

  Angelika just lay back in the chair for a while, her hands resting almost tenderly on Carly’s naked skull. Her eyes were closed to slits. Her face was flushed, her nostrils dilated. Carly pressed her thighs together, trying to get some purchase on her own sex which was burning with need. Her breasts were taut and her body slippery with sweat.

  Finally, the woman stirred. She stood up, her hand holding her skirt up by her waist. Her gloppy pussy shoved against Carly’s face. And then, pushing Carly’s head back to give herself room, she stepped away.

  She picked up the cloth from the chair and wiped her pussy dry with it. Carly waited for her to wipe her face, but that was not in the plans. The woman’s pungent aroma would remain where it was placed.

  Angelika walked over to the other side of the room. Carly kept her gaze straight forward lest she break a rule and she didn’t see what the woman was doing. When she came back, she ordered Carly to back away from the chair and to lie belly down on the floor. It was a difficult maneuver to do gracefully without her hands and she ended up just falling forwards. She landed on her breasts and squealed.

  Her legs were doubled up on her thighs. A second after she was in place, she heard a tell-tale swishing sound. Immediately a fierce fire broke out over her rear cheeks and there was a loud sound like a ‘snap!’ She howled with pain. And then came another and another, one right after the other, three in all. Carly screeched and sobbed at each one. While the third blow was still burning fiercely on her skin, she heard the woman say, “You are good for a beginner, perrita, but you lack real enthusiasm. Next time you will do better. Now stop your crying or you’ll get three more!”

  Carly bit her lower lip and, with a mighty struggle, drew her sobs to a halt. They continued inward, however. A deep, ravaging unhappiness was churning inside of her. The woman’s cruelty was beyond measure. She remembered what she had said, that she was in charge of the females of the house, both humans and dogs. A dense sense of gloom filled her mind. “Oh, please make this go away,” she pleaded to the unlistening firmament. “Please get me out of this! Please! Please! Please!”

  The woman stepped away again. Carly heard her in the bathroom and then the sound of her brushing her hair. Carly just lay there, her tears dripping into the carpet. When she heard the woman coming back, she did her best to stop them.

  She sensed her leaning over her and she felt her hands at the chain that was holding her wrists confined up on her back. They were released. A wave of relief went through her. Having them up there throughout her ordeal was like having another layer of tension and fear laid over everything. She let her wrists drop down her back, but she didn’t otherwise move them. She didn’t have permission to move them and until she did, they would remain right where they were.

  Then came the cold command, “¡Presentate!”

  She pushed herself up with her paw-like hands and leaned back on her haunches. She rose to her full kneeling height and placed her arms behind her back, crossing her wrists. She looked straight ahead. She couldn’t see herself in the mirror, but her flapping doggie ears reminded her what she looked like. She swallowed her shame.

  The woman looked down at the floor. “Get my underwear and bring it to me,” she snapped. Carly dropped back to her hands and knees and went over to where the black silk panties had fallen to the floor. She leaned over and lightly seized the delicate garment with her teeth and brought it over to her mistress. She didn’t need to be told what to do. She raised herself back into presentation position, her arms behind her, and presented them to the woman. She took them from her mouth.

  Angelika gracefully stepped into her panties and pulled them up under her skirt. When she lowered her skirt, she stroked it until it was smooth and unwrinkled. She stepped over to the bed and slipped her feet back into her high heels. Then she went over to the dresser, opened a drawer and came back. Carly saw that she was unwrapping something.

  She came in front of Carly. She held out a piece of chocolate. “I know that chocolate is bad for doggies,” she said, “but we’ll make an exception for you. Now put up your hands and beg and convince me that you want it.”

  Carly moved her hands to her front and lifted them. She didn’t want the chocolate. She didn’t want anything except to crawl into a little hole somewhere and die. But she was too afraid of the woman to refuse.

  “When I tell you, ‘¡Suplica!’, this is what you will do, except you will do a better job than this or you’ll get whipped instead of a treat! Put out your tongue, open your mouth and make some begging noises! ¡Mejor actúa más como una perra, si sabes lo que te conviene! You better act more like a dog if you know what’s good for you! ¿Entiende?”

  Carly’s lips trembled. The woman frightened her almost witless. “I’m not a dog! I’m not a dog!” she thought miserably. “Please don’t make me be a dog!”

  Despite her fear, she managed to release an enthusiastic sounding bark. Then, dutifully, she opened her mouth, let her tongue hang out and went, “Nyuh! Nyuh! Nyuh!” just like she had done with Vincenzo.

  Angelika laughed. “¡Muy bien!” she said. She proffered Carly the treat. Carly leaned her head forward and took it into her mouth. She bit into it. A rush of delicious sensation filled her mouth. It was dark chocolate filled with some kind of sweet, creamy goo. Despite herself, she let her body relax and enjoy the sensation.

  Angelika laughed again and reached her hand forward and stroked her bald head. She said something in Spanish that Carly didn’t understand, something almost sweet sounding. But she knew it was something about her being a dog. It ended with the word, ‘perrita’.

  Then the woman turned all business again. “¡Manos y rodillas!” she said sharply.

  Carly fell to her hands and knees, keeping her vision to the floor and swallowed the treat. She felt a tug on her collar and realized that the woman had snapped her leash back onto it. She felt another little tug on it and, without being told, moved in that direction.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Angelika took her back down the hallway they had come. She brought her back to the kitchen. The three cooks were sitting around a long, worn, coarse wooden table drinking mugs of coffee. Angela handed her leash to one of the women, the short, heavy set one who had given her her food, and said something to her in Spanish. The woman gave a nod of understanding and answered, “Si, señora.” Angelika gave Carly’s head another playful rub and left.

  The old woman gave Carly’s leash a little tug and ordered, “¡Presentate!”

  Carly fell back on her haunches, raised her torso and placed her hands behind her back. She realized that the commands she was being taught would become standard and had probably been developed for all the fuck doggies that had preceded her. She stared straight ahead, trying to avoid the women’s gazes.

  But if she were trying to avoid drawing attention to herself, it didn’t work. The woman who held her leash said something excited and took hold of her chin. She turned her face this way and that, admiring Angelika’s handiwork. The other women seemed to enjoy it too. After a little bit, though, they returned to their little coffee klatch and resumed their discussion.

  She knelt there for about 15 or 20 minutes. Once in a while the woman who held her leash would look over at her and stroke a breast or pinch a nipple. One of the maids came in carrying a tray of dishes. It was one Carla had not seen yet. She asked the woman holding her a question and the woman gave a reply. From the corner of her eyes, Carly could tell that the girl was staring at her. She felt so shameful that she had to bite her lip to prevent herself from whining.

  The maid brought the tray over to the
huge kitchen sink and scurried off. This seemed to be the signal for the women to go back to work as they all rose. The woman who held Carly’s leash gave it a little tug and Carly went down to all fours and followed her. She thought she was being brought over to her cage, but they walked right by it. They went down a little hallway filled with boxes and a series of shelves for dry goods. At the end of the hallway was a screen door. The woman opened it and urged Carly through.

  They were in the rear of the building. There was a series of wooden steps that led to a dirt path. On the right was a parking lot. There were several almost derelict looking cars parked in it and an old, beat up pickup or two. The woman led Carly to the left. The dirt path led over a small hillock and into an expanse of yellow colored grass.

  Carly took the opportunity to look all around. She saw several other buildings of various sizes spread all out from each other. One of the buildings was even bigger than the one she had been in and she surmised, correctly, that it belonged to the father. After the circle of buildings was a large expanse of grass. About 2 or 3 hundred feet away, there was a white wooden fence. Beyond that, it seemed that the field went on for miles. There were some horses in a paddock area and off in the distance she thought she saw some cattle. It was hot as the blazes and she was thankful that she had the pads on her hands because she could feel the heat coming up from the ground.

  She was wondering where the old woman was taking her, no place good, she was sure, when the woman deviated from the path and pulled her out onto the grass. When they were about 30’ from the path, she came to a halt. She turned to Carly and gave her leash a tug. She gave the command, “¡Presentate!” Carly rose to position. The woman used her foot to nudge Carly’s thighs wider. Then she gave her another command, “¡Mea!”

  Carly looked at her. She knew that she had heard the word before, but she had forgotten what it meant. A sourness spread through her as she knew that she would be punished, sure as shit, if she didn’t do what she was told. Her lips started to tremble and she felt tears forming in her eyes.

  The woman gave the command again, this time with a tone of annoyance in her voice. Carly just knelt there, taxing her brain to try and recall the meaning of the word. She had heard so many new words today that they all seemed jumbled up.

  The woman gave a fierce tug of her leash and yelled, “¡Mea! ¡Mea! ¡Mea! ¿Qué pasa eres estúpida?” She reared her hand back and gave Carly a vicious slap across the face. Carly released a screech and tumbled over. The woman had lost all patience. She yanked hard on the leash, “¡Arriba! ¡Arriba, perra estúpida! ¡Levántate o te doy con un palo! I’ll beat you with a stick!”

  Sobbing, Carly scrambled back into position. Her face stung where she had been struck. And what was worse, she was no closer to deciphering the meaning of the command.

  The woman seemed about to explode into rage when she caught herself. Exasperated, she pulled the sides of her skirt up to her knees and went into a crouch. “¡Mea, estupida! ¡Psssssssssssssssssssssss!” she hissed. “¿Entiende? Pssssssssssssssssssssssssss!”

  She stood up. Comprehension struck Carly like a brick. She wanted her to piss! Out here! Where anybody could see! Like a dog would! The woman was taking her for a walk! That’s what Angelika’s order had been!

  Misery swept through her. “Just like a dog!” she repeated in her head. She saw that treating her like a dog was so much more than a joke. Angelika had said it. She wasn’t human any more. She was not like a dog, she was and would be from here on out, to all persons she came into contact with, a dog. Dogs peed outside. They shat outside.

  She looked at the woman. She had regained her height. She was looking back expectantly, her ire clearly boiling just below the surface. Carly didn’t want to be slapped again. If she refused to piss, she would be beaten with a stick, just like you might do with a dog if you were vicious and mean, which all these people seemed to be. She spread her thighs even further apart. She leaned forwards slightly. She closed her eyes and pressed down. She couldn’t get the idea of the woman’s eyes all over her. She would never be able to pee in private again. In fact, any notion of privacy that she ever had was totally exploded. She pressed and pressed. She could feel the liquid descending. Her loins were full with portent. And then it came.

  A forceful stream jetted from her coosh. It splattered down on the yellowish grass. She felt like breaking out into sobs, but she fought it off. Every time she broke out into tears it was a victory for these cruel people. It was they who were inhuman, not her! She knew that she had to remove from herself any future feelings of humiliation and shame or she would go crazy. It was not her fault. They were doing this to her. Anyone in her position would do just as she was. They would obey and be servile and cringe and kneel and fuck and suck and lick, whatever they wanted. She just had to bide her time and be alert. There had to be a way to escape! There just had to be!

  Her flow subsided to a dribble and then came to an end. The old woman reached under her stained apron and retrieved a white cloth. She stood behind Carly and reached under her, wiping her slit clean. Then she gave the leash and tug and they began the trek back to the hacienda.

  As they passed the parking lot, Carly looked longingly at the cars parked there. All she would need would be a key and she would drive away. That is if she would ever find herself in a position where she was unconfined or not in the vicinity of powerful men who would quickly subdue her if she made any effort to run away from them. Or Angelika. She doubted greatly she could defeat her in one on one combat. Or the cooks, for although she had no doubt she could outrun them, if they got a hold on her they would easily bring her to the ground.

  But the key was, of course, the keys. Where would she ever get them? Maybe she could find a car with the keys left inside it. But counting on that would be a huge gamble, for if she ever got free enough to make it out here on her own, she knew that it would be her one and only chance. To fail would initiate Armageddon. The vision of the Monterrey barbeque sprung up back in her mind. Would they really do that to her? Was escaping worth the chance if that would be her fate? But, if what that woman, Angelika, had said was true, that that or some other terrible fate awaited her anyway. Yes, she decided, it was worth the chance. But she had to get free first and the chances of that seemed so slim so as to be virtually negligible.

  If she needed a reminder of that, the woman gave her leash a hard yank and told her, “¡Apresúrate!” Hurry up!

  Carly quickened her motions obediently.

  When they got back into the kitchen, the woman brought her back to her cage. She released the leash, this time hanging it up neatly on the hook, and connected to her collar the chain that led back into the cage. She gave Carly a vicious swat on the rump and told her, “¡En la jaula, perrita!”

  Carly knew what that meant. She crawled into the cage and the woman locked its door behind her.

  She spent the next hour and a half or so lying in her cage watching the women do their work. Every once in a while one of them would come by with a little tidbit, a small piece of meat, a piece of potato, a piece of bread dipped into their stew. They would instruct her, “¡Suplica, perrita!” Immediately, Carly would assume the begging position, hands up, tongue out. The bars were spaced widely enough so that the women could just stuff the morsel in between them. Carly would mouth it from their hand. This always made the women laugh.

  After a while, two of the maids came in. They started setting the long wooden table at the other end of the kitchen. Slowly, but surely, the otter maids drifted in. They were all pretty, young girls, with long black ponytails and long, colorful skirts. Some of the girls came over to Carly’s cage to take a look at her but were chased away by the cooks. When dinner was ready, all of the girls but one took a position at the table while the seventh brought over the large bowl of stew and other comestibles. No one touched the food until the cooks sat down.

  During the meal, the girls chatted and giggled and teased each other like a normal group of young wo
men still in or barely out of their teens. The cooks joined in from time to time. There could be no clearer distinction between the humans in the house and her, Carly thought. Humans got to sit at a table and talk and laugh. Dogs waited until everyone was done and then got the scraps.

  Sure enough, when they were done eating, most of the maids scurried off to other duties, what they could be Carly didn’t know. Two of the maids remained and cleared the table. The cooks were drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. Carly watched as one of the girls scraped all the remnants of the dinner from the plates onto one. She then put the full plate down in front of Carly’s cage. Carly looked at it dishearteningly. The maid called over to the cooks and asked a question. The tall, heavy cook, the one that Carly was beginning to think of as the head cook, just waved her hand and went back to chatting. The maid approached the cage and unlocked it, swinging the door open.

  “Ven y come tu cena, pequeña perrita,” the young girl said in a sweet voice.

  Carly looked up at her. Was she an enemy or was she an ally? She sounded nice and friendly and certainly seemed nicer than that woman, Angelika. But when it came down to cases, if she was ordered to beat her or maltreat her, or to take her for a walk outside, would she obey, or would she protest that, no, this is a woman, not a dog?

  She thought not. This girl would do what she had to do to survive. She couldn’t blame her. Her collar and leather bracelets around her ankles and wrists told Carly all she needed to know.

  She crawled out from her cage and addressed the food placed on the plate before her. If it was scraps, at least it was scraps from food that humans ate, not that canned stuff she got earlier in the day. It tasted good although it was a little spicy. The maid picked up the steel silver bowl that held Carly’s water and refreshed it at the sink, placing it back down next to her. Gratefully, since the food was burning her mouth, Carly moved to it and sucked up as much of the cool water as she could.