Prisoner in Mexico
[aka 'Terror In Mexico']
by Edward Mitchell


INTRODUCTION 

Headline stories of foreign prisons is nothing short of breathtaking to 
Americans who in travels have heard horror tales of how it feels to be 
suddenly thrown behind bars and declared guilty of a crime without the right 
to counsel. In Greece, one is guilty until proven innocent; in Turkey, the 
firing squad takes care of it, and in Russia, the no-man's land of Siberia 
is just punishment... and in Mexico you get on your knees and beg, money in 
hand. Sometimes its easier when you're female, blonde and very pretty. 

Ask Helga Anderson, heroine of Edward Mitchell's explosive novel Prisoner in 
Mexico, and she'll tell you how it feels to come fresh from the wheat fields 
of North Dakota to Mexico on a semester break from college and suddenly be 
pounced upon by the Aduana and dragged off to a filthy prison. If the 
physical discomforts of substandard conditions aren't enough to scorch the 
nerves, the psychological impact of threat is: "Perhaps after a few months 
of fighting off lesbians and cockroaches, the Seorita will change her mind 
and decide to cooperate...?" 

How does a woman with no legal counsel and no money free herself? Some 
readers might disapprove of Helga's sensual approach to freedom and, more 
staunchly still, to her unexpected reaction at seeing her cellmate flogged 
and sexually attacked, left naked and bleeding. For Prisoner in Mexico is 
about masochism... about that little lascivious spark in all of us, that 
dark desire called helplessness, capable of wiping out all guilt and 
emotion. Some reader may be aghast at this moral turpitude under captive 
conditions, but then, we don't know, do we... until we try for ourselves? 

 The Publishers 


CHAPTER ONE 

Helga Anderson's nineteen year old heart pumped faster, flushing her apple 
cheeks deeper red as she stole furtive glances at the bristly handle-bar 
mustache sprouting from the swarthy custom agent's upper lip, above a row of 
impossibly white teeth. God, what a knock-out! she gushed silently... until 
he crooked his finger at her, singling her out from the horde of poverty 
stripped Mexicans carrying crates of chickens and the straggly, sun-bronzed 
backpackers toting crying babies surrounding her in the stifling Nuevo 
Laredo bus station border check point, buzzing with flies and raucous 
Spanish chatter. 

Hardly proper, was it, for a custom's official to treat an American lady 
with such blatant salacity? Again, Helga's virginal Scandinavian blonde hair 
and blue eyed beauty was getting in the way. 

"Si, Seorita... eet ees you I want to talk to," the young agent pointed an 
accusing finger at her. 

"But..." Helga's incredulous robin-egg eyes trailed over, questioning the 
one's staring back at her, before locking finally on the stony chocolate 
eyes, bushed over by heavy brows meeting over the bridge of a Spanish nose. 

"But... what? Oh, my God, what... are you...?" Her tiny fist flew to her 
mouth as a guard sprang from nowhere and tore the suitcase from her grip, 
unlatched it, and dumped out her clothes, breaking the terra cotta ceramics 
she'd bought on the street for her roommate back in Fargo. Like a dog 
digging for a bone, the official clawed at the lining of her new suitcase, 
ripping it to shreds until he found what he was looking for. 

The San Antonio-bent crowd sucked in their breath, whispered behind upheld 
hands and crowded together like so many chickens in the rain while two 
aduana charged from the office, tromping over luggage and shoving people 
aside amidst a deafening squawk of chickens and frightened babies clinging 
to their mothers' necks. 

The two officers pounced on her, grabbed her under the arms and, in the next 
conscious moment, Helga remembered a greasy-faced officer stroking her 
silken hair bleached to platinum under two weeks of Mexican sun, lusty 
sounds rattling in his throat. A metallic rattle sounded and sweaty palms 
clamped cold steel handcuffs over her tiny wrists, burning into her baby 
soft pink flesh... then locked shut. Unforgettable, too, was the foul 
man-smell of stale cigarettes and perspiration, coupled with the repulsive 
feel of his stuffed body rubbing against hers, sandwiched in the back seat 
of the squad car... and disgusting was the erection he pushed down with the 
heel of his hand while he and the driver snickered in lewd undertones as 
they sped through Nuevo Laredo's streets, scattering chickens, mangy dogs 
scouring the gutters for food and half-naked children. Outside of a building 
marked Policia, the car came to an angry screech and Helga instinctively 
knew her hell had yet to begin... 

A faceless person grabbed her cold hand, stuck her thumb on a wet ink pad 
and smeared her print on the paper, while unseen hands snaked up from behind 
to rake over her lush body, stroking her full breasts and coming down over 
her smooth rippling belly to rummage in the vee of her femininity. This 
perfunctory tortured finished, Manuel, the mustached military man, 
unceremoniously ushered her into a windowless room, dank with cigarette 
smoke and empty, save for a filthy mattress dumped in the middle of the 
floor and a naked light bulb dangling from the ceiling, next to which hung a 
sticky fly strip dotted with dead, insects. Helga spied what resembled a 
front tooth lying on the cement floor below a smudge of sticky red blood 
and, afraid to look the policeman in the eye, she gulped and licked her 
parched lips, running her velvety pink tongue over her perfect white teeth. 
Panic, worse than the fear of flunking final exams, shot through the tall, 
well curved Norwegian girl from North Dakota when the metal hinged door 
behind her slammed shut ominously. Helga thought she might vomit right 
there, and judging from the spots caked on the grimy floor, she realized 
others had done just that. 

Manuel's black eyes sparkled animalishly, reminding her of a coiled snake's 
shallow-eyed stare. She shivered, even in the heat of the afternoon. What 
had she done to deserve this? 

He spun around in mid-pace. "You know a Seor Kinsey?" he asked in a heavy 
Mexican accent and swiped at a fly landing on the tip of his nose. 

Douglas Kinsey? Helga shivered again, her jaw falling slack. "Yes... yes, I 
met Douglas on the beach in Mazatlan," she answered tremulously, trying to 
sound both calm and cooperative. A forced smile withered on her face when 
she realized neither would do any good. 

"Ah ha!" Manuel chortled, running his thumbs over the smooth well-used 
length of his gashed night stick, while he made circles, his leather soled 
boots slapping on the cement floor, gnashing like salt on the grime as he 
turned in mid-pace. "You two were... lovers?" The tips of his moustache 
twitched lewdly. 

"No! We... were just friends. He gave me a place to stay... and that 
suitcase when... somebody stole mine... and..." 

"And you conspired weeth heem to smuggle seex kilos of pure Peruvian rock 
cocaine in the Seorita's false-bottomed suitcase," he charged 
undiplomatically, spinning around on his heel and bathing her neck with hot 
jets of stale cigarette smoke breath. 

"No! No... I didn't! I DIDN'T!" She was frantic now. 

"We found eet een the bottom of your suitcase, Seorita... you think me 
stupid?" His eyebrows knit together in a Machiavellian hint at torture. "We 
were teeped off, you see, by narcotic officials that you might be a mule for 
thees Seor Kinsey." Manual straightened to a dignified posture and shrugged 
his shoulders while a conquering smirk widened his grin. Rewards for this 
arrest would be generous. "And I suppose the Seorita deed not know Kinsey 
was one of the biggest smugglers een all of Mexico?" 

"No! NO! I DID NOT! I thought he was... my friend..." Helga's eyes squeezed 
scalding tears down her pink satin cheeks. 

"But you agreed to carry hees cocaine back to the States weeth you... you... 
hees mule!" Manuel sucked in his breath. "We must make the final search on 
you," he said in a softer voice. "Take off that dress!" 

Striving to hold back the tears of fear and humiliation, Helga turned her 
back to him and tugged at the hem of her hand-embroidered linen 
dress-another souvenir from Mexico she would never want to see again-and 
pulled it over her head, holding the wadded up garment over her braless 
chest. Manuel placed a hot hand on her cold arm and spun her around to face 
him, grabbed her dress and threw it to the floor. Automatically, her arms 
flew up to cross ritualistically over her naked, goosebumped breasts. He 
tore those away, too, leaving the shivering five-foot-six blonde with only 
the silken strands of her platinum hair covering the rosebud nipples of her 
D-cup breasts. 

Needlessly, he felt the wide valley between her bronzed breasts, passing his 
steely fingers afterwards along the crease underneath each softly swelling 
mound of womanly flesh. "H'mph," he grunted, surly, his eyes boring hot 
holes into her puckered nipples. 

Helga said nothing. 

They met eye to eye as he stood before her, little beads of perspiration 
dotting his forehead like flecks on the fly strip overhead. "Seorita, turn 
around and bend over and take off your panties." 

Scarlet with mortification, the speechless and deceived blonde spread her 
legs and leaned forward, exposing her naked genitals to the hungry eyes of 
the Mexican policeman. 

Manuel left her in that undignified position while he produced a small 
cardboard box from his pocket, placed it on the floor, extracted a 
single-finger rubber medical examination glove, smoothed the fingerstall 
onto the middle finger of his right hand, and then smeared Vaseline over it 
from a tube he dug out of another pocket. He approached her from the front, 
with one greased finger held upright and the skirts of the glove falling 
over the rest of his clenched hand, he probed among the silky hairs covering 
the cleft between her lushly rounded buttocks until he found the entrance to 
her vagina, and shoved the finger in. 

Helga gasped aloud and winced, jolted, her miasmaed mind too preoccupied 
with the moment to dwell on the deceptive man who'd landed her in this 
position. 

He finally removed the invading finger with a slight squelch and peeled off 
the glove. "Hold that pose, un momento, Seorita." With that, he selected 
another from the box, drew it on and greased it as before. "You Americanos 
hide strange things in the asshole... glass tubes, heroin, gun shells," he 
tittered and, leaning over her, he thrust the rubber-gloved finger swiftly 
and accurately into the tightly puckered hole of her anus. 

Helga rocked on her heels. She gasped, caught her breath and bit her lips to 
stop from crying aloud as the intruding digit sank its full length through 
the tightly clenched nether ring and began worming about in the soft buttery 
depths of her rectum. She was almost fainting from the abject shame of this 
degrading examination. 

Manuel withdrew the finger gently and her belly muscles contracted 
involuntarily as it slid past the constricting ring of her asshole. He 
straightened up and stripped off the glove. 

Wondering dully what further indignity could be heaped upon her, the 
trembling blonde American closed her eyes and did as she was told: 

"Open your mouth, Seorita." Manuel pressed two fingers on her lower lip, 
forcing her jaw open wider still and shone a small flashlight into her 
mouth, turning his head this way and that to peer up at her palate and 
between her teeth. Finally, he snapped off the beam and stood back. 

"We well be much easier on you, Senorita," he said, tucking everything back 
into his bulging pockets. "...eef you confess." 

"Con-Confess? I didn't do anything wrong! I... I want to talk to somebody at 
the embassy... or-or my father. He's got lots of money and he'll pay to get 
me out of here." It was a blatant lie: Henry Anderson, a poor North Dakota 
farmer barely scratched a living from his eighty acres and, had it not been 
for Helga's scholarship, she would have been back in the fields even now. 

"Seorita... everybody pays to get out of Mexican preesons," he chortled. 
"...Een one way or another." 

"My father! Let me talk to my father!" she begged, even the poor humble man 
had made her promise not to take this vacation alone... considering the 
headline horrors of Mexican prisons. 

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. "Perhaps after a few months in jail of fighting 
off lesbians and cockroaches, the Seorita weell change her mind and decide 
to cooperate with us... heh?" 

"You... you can't lock me up for no reason! It's not right... It's not 
riiiiiight!" she screamed back, rage and fear bordering on hysteria. 
"Ohhhhh," her lithely tanned body wracked with sobs until a sobering hand 
stung across her cheek. 

Helga slipped back into her panties and dress, and before she could protest; 
"What are you doing to me?!" she was ushered down a short hallway that 
opened, via a heavily clanging door, onto the tomb of cell blocks beyond. 

Snaky shivers and bubbling regurgitation sweltered in a cold sweat over her 
body at the heady stench of locked up, unbathed bodies combined with urine 
and greasy dishes. An army of cockroaches parted under her feet, some 
crunching nauseatingly as her shoes echoed down the hallway, heading toward 
her cell. Curious, hollow eyed, wan faces stared speechlessly at the 
beautifully tanned American girl who'd fallen victim to the hell known as 
Mexican prison life. 

 CHAPTER TWO 



He was so nice... gave me a new suitcase when mine was stolen... made 
arrangements for his friends in San Antonio to pick me up at the bus 
station... and never insisted I go to bed with him. Why would Douglas get me 
in trouble? Helga swiped at her robin-egg eyes, staring blurrily at the 
cracked cement floor, mesmerized by a king-sized cockroach darting from her 
cellmate's emptied lunch plate back into its hole in the whitewashed 
graffiti-smeared wall. Helga bit her lip and sniffled, wondering if she 
would ever see a beach, a palm tree or her family again. Nothing made sense. 
She sat down on the saggy bunk mattress, caked with dried vomit and blood, 
piecing together how her semester break vacation had ended in this damnable 
predicament. 

"What did they get you for?" a girlish voice came from a pretty red mouth 
one bunk above Helga who raised her head to stare into the cool green eyes 
of a girl not more than sixteen years old. "They seem to like Americans 
here." She ran her polish-chipped fingernails through her bouncy brown curls 
and flopped back on the mattress. 

"Really..." came a voice from the other bunk. "Wait till they get you in 
that questioning room and turn that hot bitch loose on you... you'll confess 
to anything." Karen took a second glance at her new cellmate and scraping 
her eyes over the puffy outline of Helga's braless nipples, she reconsidered 
and smirked. "Well... maybe you won't have to." 

God, that must be the lesbian he warned me about! 

"She would too!" snapped Polly. "She's not like you!" 

"Come on, Polly... at least they give you a hot bath that way... and you 
wait and see... I'll get out of this dump first because I'm not playing 
Pollyanna with them." The girl introduced herself as Karen and explained 
she'd been busted for one joint and inquired whether that was the newcomer's 
charge, too. 

Helga nodded warily and bit her lip. "That's what they say..." Fatigued, she 
spread out the scratchy Mexican blanket allotted her and lay down on top of 
it, her apple pie beauty contrasting awesomely with the squalor of this 
prison cell. 

"You mean you haven't seen her yet?" whispered Polly, leaning over the bunk, 
her emerald eyes big as half dollars. She stopped short. 

From the end of the hallway the fearsome echo of the chamber door opening 
and slamming shut sent a ripple of ultra-frequency fear vibrating throughout 
Helga's cell and those beyond. The slap of high heels thundered, growing 
with each step until they stopped outside of Helga's cell. Cautiously, 
slowly, Helga raised her head and craned her neck to see through the iron 
stripes a black haired woman with a widow's peek, dressed in a tight black 
sheath that hugged her balloonish breasts so tightly they bulged like rising 
bread dough from the bodice of her dress. In her hand she carried a whip and 
Helga gulped, certain she'd spied a spot of fresh blood on her spiked heeled 
boot. Helga withered; her cellmates said nothing. 

This must be... the lesbian! Helga's Charmin-wrapper baby blue eyes stared 
into two menacing black ones, and the cruelties they failed to convey were 
reflected in a taut-lipped mouth twisted perfidiously. 

The raven-haired warden rattled a key loose from the chain belted around her 
small waist and stuck it into Cell number 5. Across the bunks Helga heard 
Karen gasp and above her, Polly feigned sleep. 

Panic, mingled with nausea, tore through Helga as the spike heeled woman 
lashed her whip on the cement floor, scattering cigarette butts and roaches, 
and pointed a finger at Helga with the deadly aim of a gun barrel. "Come 
with me, Seorita... we must prepare you for interrogation," she said with 
raised arched eyebrows that matched the angle of her widow's peak. 

Helga slid her legs, tan as the wheat fields of North Dakota, over the edge 
of the saggy mattress and stood up on wobbly legs, glancing frantically at 
her cellmates for a hint of what was to come. 

Cowering in her bunk, Polly cast solemn eyed empathy in her direction and, 
offering a word of consolation, was cut off curtly by Maria Garcia. "Shut 
up, you leetle beetch, or you'll end up in thee questioning room... with 
straps around your ankles!" 

Helga withered at the hot feel of the woman's hand clamping over hers and 
spinning her into motion; but that was nothing compared to the gut-tearing 
panic of the warden's sizzling stares peeling over Helga's body, running her 
tongue over shiny scarlet lips as two eyes gored into the twin cantaloupes 
of Helga's firm young Scandinavian breasts poking bralessly out from under 
her hand-embroidered Mexican dress. 

Footsteps echoed in the dingy cell block, Helga's mind reeling back to 
fonder days... her mother's chocolate chip cookies, warm and crumbly, fresh 
from the oven... the smooth ripple of her father's wheat fields waving ripe 
heads in the August sun and a stab of nostalgia for youth, innocence and the 
stuff memories are made of flitted ephemerally away from her like so much 
chaff. They... they might kill me! 

The warden's heels snapped spikily on the cement floor and, as they passed 
the last cell, Maria prodded her prisoner with the butt-end of her whip, 
guiding her into a small room containing a wall cabinet, a paint-chipped 
bench, and a rusted shower nozzle. 

"Take off that dress!" Maria's voice could freeze icicles in July. "We must 
get you clean for Manuel... He likes hees women clean... and golden haired 
like the Seorita!" 

Mortified at being forced to undress before the lustful eyes of this blatant 
lesbian, Helga turned her back, pulled the dress over her head, folded it, 
set it on the bench and, sucking in her breath, pulled her panties down over 
her slender tanned hips, striped with a bronze bikini line, and stepped 
under the shower. A scream tore through the empty cement-walled room as an 
icy blast stung Helga's flesh. Whimpering, she twisted the knobs this way 
and that... but to no avail. Instinctively, she turned to the woman for 
help-and immediately wished she hadn't. 

There stood Maria, her nefariously glinting eyes rapt on Helga's naked 
breast. Using one hand on her breasts and the other to rub the protruding 
mound of her pubis through the pencil-tight dress, she petted her body 
kittenishly to the rhythm of low lusty moans gurgling from her swollen 
chest. 

God... she is a les-lesbian! 

"G-give... give me a towel, please...?" Helga's teeth rattled icily. 

Giving her pussy one last fingered poke, the sluttish warden opened the 
cabinet, threw a towel at Helga, then instructed her to bend her knees and 
open her legs. The warden's black polished fingertips drew out an aerosol 
can, aimed it at the golden vee of the prisoner's little pussy and sprayed. 

"Manuel likes hees women clean... Too many bugs in this country." Maria's 
half naked breasts nearly touched her chin as on spike-heeled tip toes she 
rummaged around in the cabinet and tossed a pair of panties at Helga who 
didn't need to be told twice to get dressed. 

The walk from the shower room and the questioning room was hardly a pleasant 
Sunday afternoon stroll, and Helga felt the kiss of death breathe heavy on 
the back of her goosebumped neck as she walked into that torture chamber, 
brushing past Manuel and gazing with fearful blue eyes at the clean sheet 
spread ceremoniously over the mattress, now pulled to the middle of the room 
amidst a puddle of cigarette butts. 

"I told the Seorita I would be seeing her soon." The short Mexican 
policeman turned on his south-of-the border charm, fingering his night stick 
as he spoke. "Perhaps we can have our leetle talk now?" 

"I... I have nothing to tell..." Helga paused, realizing she was convincing 
no one. Manuel was running his fingers lightly over her neck, sending a 
distinct shiver up and down her spine. The man was smiling at her, a cruel, 
sinister smile and the young coed read the unmistakable glint of lust in his 
chocolate eyes. 

"And now can we talk about thees Seor Kinsey... and hees business 
contacts?" he purred at her in a lullaby voice. "Maria and myself can make 
your stay here in Nuevo Laredo most pleasant eff you weell cooperate. But 
before we make any promises... Maria, undress thees blonde leetle beauty for 
me." Helga closed her eyes, wishing she were one of those women who could 
escape moments like this by fainting. She held her breath, trying to pass 
out, but her brain refused to cooperate and she remained stubbornly 
conscious. Would this man force her into doing indecent things? It was too 
terrible a thought to contemplate, but it was perfectly obvious that 
Manuel's mind had switched from cocaine to sex. Instinctively, she glanced 
down and saw the significant bulge beneath his pants. 

"No!" she pleaded desperately, wanting to resist but stunned by the total 
hopelessness of her position. Maria was at her side, snapping her whip, 
ready to begin, but the terrified blonde backed away, horrified by the 
prospect of being violated sexually. "I haven't done anything wrong... he 
tricked me. Douglas tricked me!" 

Manuel tutted tauntingly. "You are hardly being cooperative, Seorita." We 
want names... places." 

"I... I can't tell you something I don't know!" she rasped in a hoarse, 
emotional voice as Maria's softly feminine hands drew the hem of her dress 
up over Helga's magnificent body, leaving her naked except for the pair of 
prison-supplied panties that looked as if they belonged on the body of a 
clown, rather than Helga's lush Scandinavian curves. 

Manuel looked at her coolly for a long time before responding. "Has the 
Seorita any idea of how many beautiful Gringas I have fucked in the past 
eight years since your dishonorable President Neexon declared hees war on 
drugs?" 

Helga shook her head and stared at the floor, her lips clenched tightly as 
she covered her pale, naked breasts with her hands. 

"Maria, tell her." 

"Exactly one thousand, four hundred and eighty," the raven haired warden 
with hair pulled straight back from her face answered promptly, her eyes 
still trained on Helga's lush body. 

"Maria, kindly take off the lovely Seorita's panties." 

Helga tensed, but there was no point in resistance, and she shivered nakedly 
as Manuel's lesbian assistant dropped to her knees and slipped the blonde 
girl's panties off completely. 

"Ah, very nice..." commented Manuel with an air of satisfaction, stepping 
closer and running his finger lightly over the girl's sparse triangle of 
fluffy blonde pubic hair. Helga's body jerked involuntarily, but Manuel 
continued to inspect her as if she were a slave ready for purchase. "Ooooh, 
so lovely... thee General would be pleased to have her as hees special 
guest...?" He raised his eyebrows and looked at Maria who grinned and 
nodded. 

"Ohhh, yess," hissed Maria. "Can I go down on her now, Manuel? Ohhh, she 
looks to be so fresh!" 

"Maybe later," decided Manuel, leading the unwilling prisoner to the edge of 
the mattress and pushing her down on top of it. "Ooooh, so lovely," he 
purred. 

"You... you can't do this to me!" whimpered Helga recklessly. "I... I've got 
my rights. I demand to make a phone call to my father. Somebody will help 
me! Somebody's got to get me out of here!" Helga was screaming, virtually 
beside herself with a combination of rage and terror, but to her shock, 
Manuel failed to react angrily to her outburst. Instead he grinned a 
Cheshire cat smile, undoing the belt of his pants. With a flick of his 
wrist, he unsnapped, then unzipped them, letting them fall to join the other 
litter on the floor... his hugely inflated cock, thick with lust, pointing 
at her like a machine gun. 

"You Gringas are high spirited... I like that!" 

"What about me?" pouted Maria, standing beside the mattress, legs spread 
wide as her skinny skirt would allow, whip tucked in the belt of her dress, 
hands on her well-rounded hips. As always, she was eager to do her job. 

Helga was staring at the policeman's bulging penis, fascinated like a bird 
being hypnotized by a snake and incapable of moving. 

"Get the Seorita wet for me," he directed calmly. "She's too dry." 

Maria quickly unzipped her dress and stepped out of it, stepped out of her 
panties, and leaving only her black garter belt, black net stockings and 
spike heeled boots on. 

"What do they mean by 'getting me wet?' " 

"Maria is a beeg help to me," offered Manuel, settling himself on the 
mattress and lacing his hands on her arms so that she was pinned to the 
mattress. "She has a way of making people talk... like the Seorita?!" 

Maria's balloonish breasts, tipped with ruby nipples, bounced as she knelt 
quickly to the floor between Helga's silken thighs, pushing them apart. Had 
the helpless young prisoner known what was coming, she would have fought 
back, offering physical resistance, even though it was useless, just to save 
her conscience. But the sloe-eyed woman was too fast, and by the time Helga 
understood how she was to be moistened, it was far too late to do anything 
about it. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

"Seorita, lay steel and I weell make you feel oh, so good!" Maria smacked 
her lips, dropping her head seductively and running her lipstick-caked lips 
across the virginal, softly yielding flesh of Helga's upper thighs. "I weell 
get you dreeping wet for Manuel!" 

Helga's body froze as the wetly heated lips worked their way into her blonde 
pubic curls. The lesbian's tongue speared out delicately, agilely invading 
the girl's wantonly trembling young cunt. Helga's pelvis jerked convulsively 
as she reacted to this deceptively powerful stimulation, feeling Maria lick 
her clitoris sensitively and then suck it deliberately up into her mouth, 
caressing it with her tongue. 

"No, please don't do this to me!" wailed Helga sincerely. "I'm not a 
les-lesbian!" 

It was useless! Neither of the Mexican officials paid any heed to what she 
was saying. Manuel was stretched lazily beside her on the bed, using one 
hand to caress her sensitively tingling nipples and occasionally bending 
over with his usual sardonic chuckle to take one of the berry-like little 
buds between his teeth and lash at it mercilessly with his tongue. But Helga 
somehow guessed that he was merely waiting, letting his lesbian warden 
tongue-fuck her into such a dither that she would be incapable of resistance 
when he finally made his move. 

But, oh, God, the worst of it was the humiliation! She was sprawled out, her 
legs spread obscenely apart with her naked cuntal flesh offered up to the 
lesbian warden's hungry mouth like a pagan sacrifice Helga lay frozen to the 
mattress unable to move, as Maria slowly and torturously drew apart the 
fragile pink lips of her vagina with her black-painted claws, watching it 
greedily for a moment, and then deliberately buried the full length of her 
long slippery tongue into the warmly throbbing walls of her pussy! 

"Noooooooohhhh!!!!!" the futilely struggling prisoner from North Dakota 
moaned, feeling that these two sexual monsters were dragging her down to 
their own terrible level of filthy corruption, reducing her to the status of 
an animal. Her head came up off of the mattress in amazement, as she looked 
down between the quaking mounds of her naked breasts at Maria's pink little 
tongue licking at her wetly throbbing cunt. 

"Thees is a favor the Seorita must also return. Do pay attention and 
remember the details better than you do names of your Seor Kinsey's 
partners..." 

"Oh, please," she groaned again in anguish, flailing her head back and forth 
as Maria's tongue speared in and out of her involuntarily dilating cuntal 
lips. Despite everything, tiny, featherlike wisps of pleasure were beginning 
to whisper through her defenseless genitals, and she could feel her tingling 
nipples becoming swollen and hard as diamond chips as Manuel gently nibbled 
and mouthed them one after another. The man was watching her intently, his 
handle-bar moustache twitching, waiting for the first signs of her 
inevitable surrender, knowing that she had to give in sooner or later... and 
that would open her memory, too. 

Helga began to cry, great tears of shame and humiliation flowing onto her 
cheeks as she realized that there was nothing she could do but lie there and 
listen to the obscene wet licking and sucking noises Maria was making down 
between her legs. She knew that the tiny nub of her clitoris was growing as 
hard as her nipples, and that she could not hope to conceal much longer the 
pitiful condition of arousal she was in. Her hips quivered lustfully despite 
her iron determination to lie perfectly still, and she forced herself to 
concentrate on the fact that she was being lewdly ravished against her will, 
and by a woman at that. She was not in the backseat of a car with a 
boyfriend, and she could not call a halt to these sordid proceedings as soon 
as the temperature rose too high! This was the real thing: rape! 

And it was getting worse instead of better. Maria was toying with her 
cruelly now, exploring all the sweet, warmly perfumed mysteries of her loins 
with her sensitive prying finger, then, Helga felt the lesbian's tongue 
flicker lightly over the tightly puckered hole of her rectum. 

"Aaaaahhhhh!" she moaned. "Please don't touch me there!" But her pleading 
only brought a lewd chuckle from the woman and a further stab of the 
obscenely caressing tongue into the tight sphincter ring. Apparently sensing 
that she had discovered a critical spot, Maria carefully inched her 
outstretched middle finger into Helga's defenselessly puckering anus, 
forcing it steadily in as far as the first knuckle while her rapacious 
tongue fucked ceaselessly in and out of the thrashing girl prisoner's hotly 
clasping cunt. This double impalement was too much, and Helga suddenly 
realized that she was losing her grip on reality. She was on the very edge 
of a slippery slope and every restless twitch of her body brought her that 
much closer to the abyss. Her shamelessly aroused body was jerking as if 
hot-wired, and her hips seemed to have given up taking orders from her 
brain. Without realizing it, she was on her way to complete surrender. 

Manuel gazed down with mixed emotions at the nakedly shuddering young Gringa 
blonde beneath him. The girl obviously was going to be a problem... a hard 
nut to crack... because there was no way of knowing if she was merely hiding 
information, or if she was indeed an innocent 'mule,' as drug traffickers 
called the across-the-border smugglers. He had to find out if he were to win 
his promotion from the General who smiled upon the sight of Gringas... 
especially lovely blonde ones such as this Helga. 

Joining the police force had been Manuel's stepping stone to power... his 
latest commission as narcotics officer won him a handsome salary and nobody 
frowned at his means of getting information from the prisoners. The grass 
couldn't be greener... as it were... except if he were to put Douglas Kinsey 
behind bars. What Mexican dope peddlers he hung out with, Manuel wasn't 
certain, but it was damned important. 

His piercing eyes fell back on his magnificently-bodied young prisoner. It 
was obvious from the way her voluptuous body had come alive in the last few 
minutes that she had a hot, passionate streak in her as wide as an arroyo 
after a flood. Even now, being tongue-fucked against her will by a lesbian, 
she was turning on involuntarily, and Manuel studied the half-crazed 
expression which had crept onto her face. Abruptly, he decided that it was 
time for him to take over. 

Helga was bucking and squirming under the mind-blowing torture of Maria's 
ceaselessly probing tongue, wondering how long she could tolerate this 
lecherous abuse without going completely berserk. Every time she opened her 
eyes, she could see Manuel's handsome face, his lustful eyes looking down at 
her below a brushy row of eyebrows, his pearly teeth, even and sparkling 
under the twitching moustache. Then, she watched slack-jawed as he moved his 
hand away from the tortured mound of his breast and tapped Maria lightly on 
the shoulder. 

"Now, I'm going to sample that sweet leetle cunt. To fuck you weell be a 
real pleasure, Seorita." 

"Noooooohhhhh!" Helga managed to moan, without much conviction, but the 
blonde haired girl realized now precisely how weak and helpless she was. She 
lay still as he maneuvered over her, paralyzed by her own conflicting 
emotions, her soft white belly quivering and heaving in erotic need as she 
gasped desperately for air. Manuel kept the pressure on her, bending over 
cruelly and biting the sensitive little pink nipple of her left breast so 
hard that he left teeth marks in the softness of her flesh. She groaned in 
agony, trying to twist away, but the man seemed to be all over her, his 
hands dancing demandingly over the tender delicacy of her thighs and hips, 
stroking her flanks tantalizingly. He bent over again, and for an instant 
she feared that he was going to bite her other breast, but this time as she 
was preparing herself for the sharp pain, he carefully licked the trembling 
little coral nipple, sending a twitch of unwanted pleasure racing through 
her confused young body. Instinctively, without realizing what she was 
doing, her hips began to grind impatiently into the yielding softness of the 
mattress below her. 

"Well; our leetle Gringa is warming up," he teased unmercifully, noticing 
the beginnings of sexual response on her part. "Perhaps some of us aren't so 
cold after all, heh?" 

For some reason, his mocking talk only excited her even more, and she turned 
her head to one side, now almost wishing that he would go ahead and ravish 
her violently and painfully before her resistance dropped any lower. At all 
costs, she had to keep him from realizing that he had truly managed to 
excite her! If he could succeed in fulfilling his promise to make her 
'cooperate,' physically, it would be the last defeat. If she surrendered to 
him, she would be behind the bars of her own conscience... and she knew it! 

"The Seorita ees very tight," he complained as he caressed her throbbing 
pussy with one vilely exploring hand. "You have not had many men?" Wasting 
no more time, Manuel levered up over her, using one hand to guide the hard 
rubbery shaft of his brown cock directly into the full, fleshy pink lips of 
her agonized young cunt. The man was getting excited himself now at the 
sensual thought of ravishing this nakedly helpless golden haired Gringa with 
the dimples in her rosy cheeks. Then he watched her blonde head turn 
submissively to one side as he rubbed the dark, meaty tip of his penis up 
and down her throbbing hair-lined cuntal slit, searching for the opening. 

"Oooooohhhhhaaaahhhh," she muttered indistinctly as he found the narrow, 
unused hole of her cunt and began to apply a little pressure. 

The Mexican policeman pushed steadily forward, putting the weight of his 
short but muscle-bound body behind his lust-hardened cock, and grinning 
sadistically as he watched her writhe in pain. The tip of his bulbous glans 
worked its way torturously past the tightly clasped opening, and penetrated 
her tight young cunt by sheer brute force. 

"No... God, you're ruining me... you're hurting me!" she screamed, putting 
her hands uselessly against his hairy chest in a pointless attempt to push 
him away. It was futile; he was far too strong for her, and obviously 
enjoyed making her suffer as he battered his way up into her virginal pussy. 

"All right," he snarled in response, his muscles tightening quickly. "Let's 
get it in!" Releasing the weight on his elbows, he allowed his heavy body to 
fall forward abruptly, crushing his muscular chest against the resilient 
softness of her breasts and knocking the wind right out of her. It felt as 
though a ton of bricks had landed on top of her. 

Defensively, Helga's lithe legs splayed apart as his long purple-knobbed 
penis rammed mercilessly into her defenseless vagina. He was hell-bent to go 
all the way this time... determined not to stop until his loins crashed into 
her painfully bruised pelvic bone and his sperm-bloated testicles slapped 
obscenely against the upturned cheeks of her ass! 

"Holy Christ!" Manuel swore in disbelief, then pulled his penis partially 
out and stared at the pink froth from her shattered maidenhood. "I deedn't 
think Gringas could be virgins!" 

"Oh God! Oh my God!" she whispered and whimpered beneath him, too breathless 
to scream. The girl felt stuffed to the gills, so completely and totally 
filled there wasn't room to breathe. His huge throbbing penis lay sunk deep 
within her belly, so long and hard that she could almost feel it in the back 
of her throat, and her ravished, ruined vaginal passage felt as though it 
had been ripped to shreds, utterly destroyed forever. 

For a time, neither of them moved. Maria shifted her position, sprawling 
next to Helga on the bed and taking one of the girl's limp hands gently in 
hers. 

"Manuel, he ees a beeg man... si?" she smirked, speaking in her throaty 
Mexican voice. "A very beeg man for your first preek! No? Wait unteel he 
takes you in thee other place if you theenk thees ees something!" 

"Nooooooohhhhh!!!!" sobbed the sacrificed virgin, too tortured by what was 
happening to her at the moment to worry much about the future possibility of 
being sodomized. 

"Good for you that Maria softened you up, eh?" she beamed. "You should be 
grateful to Maria! Seor Manuel might have spleet you down the meeddle!" 

The lesbian warden didn't seem to require much of an answer, and Helga could 
think of nothing appropriate, particularly since Manuel was now flexing his 
bludgeoning cock within her tender pussy, deliberately trying to widen her 
tightly resisting pussy hole. Down on hands and knees watching every flex of 
the action, Maria seemed to be wanting a piece of it, and too impatient to 
wait her turn. 

With Helga's hand still a prisoner in her own, Maria thrust her hips forward 
eagerly and then forced the girl's unwilling fingers into her own wetly 
heated pussy, immediately clamping her thighs together to hold her there in 
the steaming heat of her neglected pussy. 

"Oh Christ," groaned the coed prisoner, not bothering to resist this latest 
perversion. "Is there anything worse you can do to me?" 

Slowly, the man began to rock back and forth, driving his pulsing hardness 
in and out of Helga's painfully stretched cunt. With his native instinct for 
a woman's innermost feelings, he sensed that the blonde girl had given up 
the fight at last. She had not even resisted Maria's perverted use of her 
hand, and the chesty lesbian was going wild by his side as she forced Helga 
to finger-fuck her against her will. Yes, she was broken like a colt and 
from here on in it would be easy riding. His penis had never failed him 
before, and he knew from his vast bedroom experience that it would not take 
long to turn this innocent young Gringa into a squirming squealing mass of 
boiling passion. He had an entire cell block full of conquered young 
American girls and he would be adding just one more to the roster! 

Manuel had no idea precisely how correct was that assumption, for Helga 
herself knew that she had already lost the battle against the lewd flames of 
desire firing through her veins. Even the agonizing pain of Manuel's brutal 
penetration had not brought her all the way down, and she was still tingling 
from the furious tongue fucking. Her brain was a kaleidoscope of confusion, 
and she realized vaguely that those backseat petting sessions with 
boyfriends were closer to the real thing than she'd suspected. Lord, 
sometimes it had been difficult to stop... but she had only to remember her 
father's temper to put an end to such blazing temptation. 

The Mexican policeman looked down at the girl he was savagely fucking and 
decided that he was just breaking another snooty-nosed American girl who 
thought herself too good for low-priced Mexicans. Helga's delectable young 
body was twitching and jerking unconsciously, and he plastered a wet, 
smoky-tasting open-mouthed kiss on her succulent lips, finding to his 
delight that even her mouth yielded to his invasion. Lewdly, he plunged his 
tongue into her hot mouth, and her tongue shyly toyed with his as low 
servile hums of pleasurable acceptance came from deep in her throat. A light 
fragrant layer of perspiration was spreading across her forehead as his 
penis fucked, jackhammering into her ravaged pussy, and her nostrils flared 
like a straining horse. Manuel decided it was time to turn on the heat and 
drive her completely out of her mind. 

He started by shifting his position, slipping his hands beneath the soft 
warm globes of her tanned buttocks, continuing at the same time to skewer 
rhythmically into her, slamming his hips into hers, mashing his pubic curls 
against her polished little clitoris. Her ass cheeks turned and flexed and 
churned in lewd dances of delight as he fucked his purple-veined penis into 
her squirming cunt, and he used his new leverage to pull her tight little 
pussy even closer so that his long hard shaft rubbed over the stiffened 
little bud of her clitoris. She groaned and mumbled something... almost as 
if she were grateful. Seorita... ella esta listo, horita! thought Manuel 
cunningly, and slid his prying fingers all the way beneath her nakedly 
undulating buttocks until his index finger rested lightly on the tiny 
puckered hole of her anus. It was tight, and he reminded himself that if he 
ever hoped to penetrate her here, he was going to have to widen the 
entranceway. Besides, toying with her here, this would serve as a convincing 
demonstration of his power over her, and just precisely how low he had 
brought her. If she would accept this, she was an easy target for anything! 

Without warning, he slid his outstretched middle finger into the puckering 
anal orifice quickly, catching her completely off-guard, and feeling the 
soft rubbery flesh yield reluctantly before this perverted attack. 

"Aaaaahhhh," she groaned, but whether the naked young prisoner was 
protesting or simply moaning from the anal attack was anybody's guess. 
Manuel escalated by pushing a little harder... a little further, working his 
finger around in ever-increasing circles in her hot buttery depths to widen 
the opening. Soon enough, the elastic-rimmed nether hole was widened enough 
to slide a second finger in, and the Mexican policeman felt her outraged 
rectum slowly adjust to this strange and unnatural invasion. The thought 
that he had completely won over this snooty-nosed lying little Gringa lent a 
savage fury to his wild lust, and he began to fuck her with every ounce of 
strength in his tawny muscular body, caressing the moistly trembling inside 
walls of her rectum with his finger as he speared even more deeply into her 
wetly clasping young cunt. 

"Oh Gawwwwd!" she muttered, her long, tanned, tapered legs rising up on 
either side of him as if she were obscenely urging him to fuck her harder 
and deeper. With a shock, Manuel realized he was about to cum; she teetered 
on the verge of cumming already, and he had not begun to open his full bag 
of tricks. Cunningly, he decided to get a running start and push her off the 
brink so hard that she would never forget this cum if she lived to be one 
hundred. Taking a deep breath, he quickened his thrusts, ripping his fingers 
from her offended rectum and seizing her hips like a bicycle's handle bars. 
Helga's genitals were completely open to him now and the dank room echoed 
with the sound of one pile-driving thrust after another as his long hard 
cock rammed brutally into her hair-lined little pussy. 

Helga's apple cheeked beauty was so twisted and contorted with passion that 
her own mother would not have recognized her now and Manuel himself gritted 
his teeth, pounding into her with savage fury. Neither one of them were 
paying any attention to poor neglected Maria who was still finger-fucking 
herself with Helga's imprisoned hand. The lesbian warden suddenly began 
sobbing under the effects of a lonely but powerful orgasm, but neither Helga 
nor Manuel turned a head to look at her. 

"I... I..." gasped Helga, her voice high and unexplainably girlish. 

"Say it!" barked Manuel, knowing precisely what was happening but needing to 
hear it from her lips. 

"I'm cumming... cumming... cummming!" the lust-crazed prisoner chanted 
mindlessly, her hips bucking up against Manuel's body with that strange 
physical power which sweeps over a woman's body at the moment of sexual 
ecstasy. 

The policeman felt the warmness of her cunt as she flowered open to him like 
a rose touched by the morning sun and the hot gushes of sticky orgiastic 
fluid flowing copiously from her womb. The fragile lips of her pink vagina 
seemed to suck at him powerfully as if she were trying to milk him dry, and 
the man realized that he, too, was at the end of his journey. Her breath 
came in short desperate gasps as he felt his own hot sperm suddenly gather 
deep within his testicles and hose outward. The boiling cum gushed the 
length of his wildly spewing cock and burst into the depths of her womb, 
mixing joyously with the warm orgiastic fluids generated by her ecstatically 
shuddering body. 

In a few blinding seconds, the frenzy passed, and Helga's body went limp, 
her legs splaying out obscenely as if there were no modesty left in her and 
she no longer cared who looked at her naked body or from what angle. In a 
rare moment of tenderness, Manuel leaned forward to kiss her gently on her 
laxly parted lips. 

"Beast!" she spat at him. "Rapist!" 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

They dragged her back to cell number 5 and threw her face-down on the bunk 
mattress where her scalding tears soaked up the scratchy blanket, sopping 
right on through to the mattress. Helga whimpered pathetically, stopping 
only to slap at a fly or cockroach. When her tears ran dry, she relaxed a 
bit and stared blindly at the graffiti scrawled over the white washed wall 
below the barred window, streaked orange now by the dying afternoon sun. 
Helga was deeply concentrating on the jagged outline of a clenched fist 
drawn crudely over the rough wall, labeled with a: "Free American Prisoners" 
below... when she realized someone was speaking to her. 

"I said... she's good isn't she?" Karen was speaking. 

"Huh?" Helga raised her head and stroked her platinum hair back from her 
flushed cheeks. "What who..." 

The mattress above Helga squeaked and Polly threw her legs over the side. 
"She's talking about that bitch Maria." Something in her voice echoed of 
disgust. "Knock on wood she hasn't touched me yet. I'd die if she did! Yuk!" 

"You'd love it!" returned Karen nonchalantly. 

"You make me sick! I've told them everything they want to know and I betcha 
I'm outta here in a week," blasted the green-eyed girl, tossing her curls. 

"Yeah... I wouldn't get my hopes up, kid. These perverts want sex... not 
facts! Go ahead and use your mouth for blabbing and I'll use mine to suck my 
way out of this dump. See who gets back to California first..." 

A little squabble ensued, but Helga remained reticently neutral, staring 
abysmally at the wall and wondering what would get her out of here... if 
anything. Suddenly, a thunderous clangor stung her ears and terrified, she 
raised her head to see a fat, greasy-faced woman missing two front teeth 
running a metal spoon over the bars, announcing dinner. 

Polly jumped off of her bunk and reached out for the metal plate heaped high 
with an indescribably mound of what resembled a liquid version of the mess 
caked onto the cement floor of the questioning room. She whimpered: "Is this 
all I get to eat? I'm hungry... and I want an enchilada... even beans would 
be okay." 

The warden snickered, shrugged her shoulders and from her cart picked up a 
cheesy plate of enchiladas, chili rellenos, rice and beans... with two hot 
tortillas on the side. She handed it to Karen. 

"But... I..." stammered Polly. 

Karen cast her green-eyed cellmate a haughty glance. "You use your tongue 
for eating up that slop and I'll use mine for eatin' up Maria, and we'll see 
who crosses that border first." 

Helga hadn't the energy to eat. When the sun set the room cooled to a 
temperate degree and she slept, dreaming of cold milk, chocolate chip 
cookies and rippling wheat fields. 

A fly buzzing around her ear woke Helga early the next morning, and though 
the sky had barely turned pink, she couldn't go back to sleep. She felt 
dirty, uncomfortable, hungry and very, very depressed. 

With the first crow of the rooster, breakfast was served: A cup of muddy 
coffee and a pasty tasting dried breakfast roll. Tasting none of it, she 
gobbled it down, finishing off the last crumbs when Maria appeared in the 
same black dress, boots and perfidious grin. Instead of her whip, she 
carried a fluffy yellow towel and washcloth, and a bar of soap. 

"Come weeth me, Seorita Helga. I run a nice hot bath for you...?" 

Polly and Karen exchanged baffled glances and a knowing smirk crossed 
Karen's dimpled face. "Hmmm, our new cellmate is getting a bath... Guess we 
know where she stands... or lays!" Karen winked at Helga. 

"Wh-what are you talking about?" defended Helga in a high, whiney voice, her 
metal cup rattling as she set it down on the tray. "Just be-because they 
offered me a bath doesn't mean I... I enjoyed what they did to me... how 
they... they ra-raped me!" 

Karen tutted. "Sure, Helga..." She made an expansive gesture. "Look, kiddo, 
we're all human, might as well get off on it." 

"You're disgusting!" spat Polly. "You have no pride, Karen!" 

Maria lost her patience. "You Seorita shut up! I put you both in chains!" 





* * * * * 





They bathed her in bubble-bath before taking her to the questioning room for 
one last go-around. 

"Wh-what do you want of me now?" whimpered Helga. "I can't tell you 
something I don't know!" 

Manuel gave her a toothy grin, a slow, evil, menacing smile which sent 
shivers down the girl's perfumed back. Maria was standing in front of her 
now, working at the zipper of her dress, shrugging it over her shoulders and 
stepping free as the garment folded onto the floor. Immediately, Helga knew 
they were planning another sexual spectacle, once again with her body as the 
center attraction. 

"I told you I was duped! I... I don't want any more sex with you people," 
she begged them sincerely, her blue eyes pleading jewels in her round 
Norwegian face. "Please... no more, okay?" 

"Hhmpf... I thought the Seorita enjoyed our meeting yesterday. Deed not the 
Seorita cum.. certainly you deed not do that to make mee feel good." He 
touched his fingers to his chest emphatically. 

He was mocking her cruelly and she knew it, and there was nothing she could 
do but sit there and take it. Helga drew a deep breath and began again. 

"I-I'm only human... but it should be saved for people who love each other." 

"Now, now, now..." tutted Manuel, crossing his arms over his chest and 
watching as Maria stripped the panties off, leaving only her stockings and 
black lace garter belt for modesty. "Een our country we love to see women 
enjoy each other. Lie down, Maria while our friend here with the bad memory 
takes off her dress." 

At that moment, Helga wished to God she was guilty of the accused crime... 
at least then she could confess, cooperate and take the punishment. The 
psychological games they played with her now sizzled with sadism. 

The submissive warden was visibly trembling with perverted lesbian emotion 
as she stretched languidly out on the mattress, waiting for the tall blonde 
to strip naked and join her in a brunch of lust. 

With a withering glance, Helga noticed immediately that Maria's 
brown-oversized nipples were distended and rigid, and the woman's triangular 
shaped pussy was already moist. What kind of pervert did they take her for? 
Should she fight or would it be better to save herself the trouble and give 
in immediately? Maria arranged herself so that she was upside down next to 
Helga, and Manuel pushed the young blonde coed down on her side with the 
kick of his boot, so that Helga was looking directly at Maria's wetly gaping 
pussy lips. 

"Perhaps thees weell help the Seorita's memory come back?" 

Her head whirling with doubt and confusion, Helga felt Maria pushing her 
unresisting thighs apart, and her body jerked as the lesbian tongue speared 
lewdly into the sensitive inner flesh of her cunt. They had been all through 
this once before, and Helga knew precisely where it was going to take them. 
Despite the fact that it was a wicked, homosexual act-something that would 
make her mother weep for shame and make her father topple over in a heart 
attack-she knew control would flit away from her like a bird in the hand. 
These people-perhaps out of practice-had discovered a deeply buried 
masochistic streak in her, something hidden far beneath the surface of her 
consciousness which desperately needed to be tortured and hurt. And they 
were going to exploit that perversion to the fullest, changing her from a 
high-spirited young adventurer into a sordid sex slave who could turn on for 
men or women indiscriminately. 

As Maria's hungry tongue tantalized her throbbing vaginal flesh, Helga 
looked at the moistly dilated pussy only a few inches from her face. The 
scent from Maria's body was warm and smelled of cheap perfume, and the lips 
of her cunt were swollen and visibly trembling with twisted sexual need. 
Watching the sensuous outlines of that darkly inviting pussy slit and 
knowing that Manuel would make her go through with it whether she begged or 
screamed, the girl bent slightly forward and ran her lips over the tiny pink 
button of Maria's clitoris and tasted the honeyed sweetness of the older 
woman's cunt. 

"Aaaaahhhh!" The universal cry of pleasure hit Helga's ears as Maria paused 
long enough to express her gratitude for this obscene caress. 

"Maria has been good to you, Seorita. You make her cum or I screw you een 
the ass!" 

It was clear enough! Yesterday he had threatened to assault her virginal 
anus and the tone of his voice made it clear it was no idle threat. 
Certainly he was capable of it... so she hesitated no longer. If avoiding an 
invasion of her rectum meant performing oral sex with another woman... then 
suck she would! But that didn't mean she had to enjoy it. 

Besides, the other woman's wetly glistening cunt was beginning to fascinate 
her. Biology classes at the University of North Dakota was the closest she'd 
come to a live human vagina, other than her own, and this was one lab 
session of very relevant information. Helga pushed her fingers exploringly 
into the rich dark pubic hair, caressing Maria's oversized clitoris. It felt 
warm and soft and she could hear the Mexican woman sigh with happiness every 
time she touched it. Getting her courage up, she pushed Maria's satiny 
thighs apart and pushed her blonde head in between her outstretched legs, 
running her tongue lewdly over the quivering pinkness of the throbbing 
vaginal lips. Then she clamped her lips firmly around the sexually-sensitive 
tip of her clitoris and began to suck, tasting the succulent flesh of 
another woman's cunt for the first time. 

It was not as hard as she would have imagined, for Maria was furiously 
tongue-lashing her own widely dilated pussy, and the orgiastic scent 
emanating from the lesbian's body seemed to drive her higher and higher into 
a red mist of wild carnal excitement. She knew in some sane portion of her 
mind that they were getting through to her once again, that this surrender 
would make it that much harder for her to resist them in the future... but 
at this point the logic involved seemed to have changed. If they ordered her 
to eat a woman's cunt, she would eat cunt! Anything but anal sodomy! 

She threw herself into the perversion, like a diver plunging into unknown 
waters, almost reveling in the wickedness and obscenity of what she was 
doing. Inching forward, she slid her long flickering tongue deeply into 
Maria's naked vagina, feeling the delicately trembling walls of the 
brunette's cuntal passage quivering with unnatural excitement. The taste was 
pungent but not unpleasant, and she began to suck and lick with all the 
power she could summon up, driving her tongue repeatedly into the lesbian's 
clasping cuntal opening and simultaneously brushing her lower lip over the 
pulsating organ of her clitoris. 

From Manuel's point of view, both women had gone loco, and the man felt his 
penis beginning to resent confinement behind his uniform zipper. The Mexican 
policeman considered himself fortunate to have a warden such as Maria 
working for him- someone to do the bulwark of getting his prisoners 
helplessly and hopelessly aroused while he sat back and excited himself by 
watching. When the moment seemed right, he would move in with his ten-inch 
erection and finish the job. Helga would be ready any minute now, and Manuel 
marveled at the hot streak that fairly sizzled under the skin of these 
hot-blooded Gringas who said one thing and did quite another. And, of 
course, it took only a nod in Maria's direction to get her going; but the 
two of them were sucking and licking at each other as if they had been born 
Siamese twins in that position. 

Maria was starting to quiver violently, and Manuel knew from experience that 
she was about to explode into one of her teeth chattering climaxes. Maria 
could cum faster and harder than any man he had ever seen, and sometimes 
Manuel found himself envying her for that reason. Sometimes he wondered who 
was the better policeperson, he or Maria. Everything turned her on from men 
to women to boys to girls, and of course there had been- that memorable 
experience with that German shepherd. The woman was a walking orgasm looking 
for a place to cum, and Manuel smiled with pleasure as he watched his 
companion's long slender body suddenly go rigid as the spasm swept over her. 

"Mio Dios... mio Dios... mio Dios..." she murmured in her moment of ecstasy, 
reverting unconsciously to her native tongue. Manuel felt his iron-hard cock 
throbbing with avid desire, and he suddenly decided to give one last crack 
at getting a testimony from Helga. Her smooth, tempting buttocks waggled 
right in front of him, and he felt an overwhelming lecherous desire overtake 
him. Dammit, he would go ahead and take her right there in the rectum! Why 
should he hold back? She was his prisoner to do with as he pleased, and 
there was nothing in Mexican law that stated a policeman could not resort to 
sodomy... if it would solve the case. 

The two women were still tongue-fucking each other like a pair of maniacs, 
but Manuel levered himself up next to Helga and ripped down his zipper to 
free his restlessly pulsing penis. The scarlet tip of his glans had bloated 
to an awesome size and he rammed it quickly between Helga's soft, warm 
buttocks, wanting to catch her off guard before she had a chance to offer 
any serious resistance. It was going to be tough enough fighting his way 
into that tight little asshole without having to arm wrestle with her at the 
same time. Manuel knew that this blue-eyed blonde feared anal impalement 
worse than death... and she would struggle. 

Helga was trembling on the brink of a lesbian orgasm when she felt Manuel's 
warmly pulsating hardness slide lecherously between her ass-cheeks. The 
potential orgasm passed immediately as fear stuck its icy hand into her 
body. He was going to do it anyway! He had instructed her to make Maria cum, 
and she had accomplished that because the woman was still squirming and 
moaning her way through a soul-shattering orgasm. And now the bastard was 
going to double-cross her! God, she had to fight him! 

Helga whirled on the bed, flailing out with her elbows and striking Manuel 
as hard as her tiny clenched fist could in the side of his neck. Foolish it 
was for her to believe she could fight him off, but her only hope was to 
struggle and make such a fuss he'd think it more trouble than it was worth. 
Nobody was going to fuck her virginal anus without a fight. 

"No!!!" she screamed hysterically, raking her long fingernails through the 
hairy patch of his chest, leaving red streaks of oozing blood in its wake. 

"Maria! Get her!" Manuel ordered, thrown temporarily off-balance by the 
sudden fury of Helga's attack and then a sudden dizziness. Still confused by 
this violent interruption of the sweetest orgasm she could ever recall, 
Maria slid off the bed onto the floor. Manuel rose unsteadily to his feet, 
confronting the outraged girl and tried to throw his heavy body on top of 
her, but she reacted with the brute Viking instinct of a cornered warrior, 
lashing out with one foot against the desire-tautened sac of his hairy 
balls. 

"Ahhhhh!" he screamed in pain as the ball of her boot slammed into his 
unprotected genitals, doubling him over in a blasphemous groan of agony 
Manuel had been quite unprepared for this outburst of violence, but he had 
not climbed his way to the top of the law enforcement profession by being 
soft and surrendering to initial threats. With a grunt of rage, he 
intercepted Helga as she sprinted for the door, slamming her ruthlessly to 
the floor with one powerful sweep of his arms. 

"Motherfucker!" he said distinctly as the girl writhed on the floor, by this 
point so far out of her mind that she would fight to the death. "Maria, get 
the handcuffs... we weell show thees Americano how we treat leettle 
beetches!" Then to Helga: "Too bad, my sweet, but you leave us no choice. 
Tomorrow you weel go to veeseet the General and he weell show you a lesson 
you weell never forget!" 

CHAPTER FIVE 

"Wh-What? Me... go to the General? But... I-I've been cooperating and... and 
oh, God!" 

Polly's emerald eyes squeezed scalding tears down her satin cheeks as she 
took one last look around the jail cell as would a drowning man before the 
last mouthful of water. 

Helga said nothing; holding in her agony with stoic pride which unmasked was 
pure unadulterated fear. A warden handcuffed them together and the girls 
walked outside the dingy walls to sit on a cement bench and wait for the bus 
under a sun shining hot and high in a clear blue sky. 

Nobody briefed them on exactly where they were headed, but Helga had an idea 
it wasn't for the border 

A rickety, dusty bus with bad brakes screeched to a halt and the warden 
ushered the prisoners on board, passing by a beady eyed little Mexican 
driver with a leathery tan and a face wrinkled as a week old apple peel. He 
seemed to grunt as the two slender, bosomy American girls brushed past him 
and slid into a seat somewhere near the middle. 

By San Pedro's balls, thought the Mexican bus driver blasphemously as he 
peered over his shoulder. These Gringa girls get better looking every year. 
These policemen must take in only the prettiest. Ohh, and these two... so 
tall and fair and their breasts... ah, they have such breasts as a poor 
mortal like me can only expect to see in paradise. 

As his antiquated ramshackle bus thundered down the dusty road, heading 
toward Monterrey, the driver wiped the mirror clean of smudge and adjusted 
it to examine the reflection of his Yankee riders sitting dully unobservant 
behind him. 

Something alerted Helga to the unnerving fact that she was being inspected 
and she squirmed nervously on the hard uncomfortable seat. Had she known how 
that driver revered her blonde hair, bleached white by his native sunshine, 
she would have forgiven his obtrusive stare and considered it a compliment 
that his beady eyes bored into the melonous mounds of her heavy breasts set 
high, standing out proudly beneath the light cotton dress she wore. 

Had the driver been able to drag his eyes away from Helga's sensational 
body, he would have discovered that she possessed a face to match her 
physique. Her sparkly eyed beauty was accentuated by the school girl pony 
tail she wore. 

Perhaps that driver might have been a bit ashamed, though, had he known the 
sadness and emotional strain hidden behind that veneer of polished beauty... 
ashamed that a girl was being tortured at the hands of his fellow 
countrymen. Every few minutes the battered old bus would hit a deep crater 
in the road, leap into the air like an overloaded bomber struggling for a 
take-off and then settle back onto the asphalt while a tortured metallic 
scream issued from its rusted springs. 

And the one beside her! Oh, dear God, those green eyes! Ignoring the 
possibility that his decrepit vehicle might sail off a cliff or pile into a 
tree, he studied the reflection of her pale, wan faced beauty. And those 
teets! "By San Tommasso... look at those teets!" the driver muttered under 
his breath, running a Volkswagen off the road and into the ditch while he 
adjusted the mirror for a better view. Dear Jesus, why doesn't sometheeng 
like that come my way! Oh, to fuck a Gringa like that! 

"Aaaaahhh!!!" came a general scream of panic from the passengers as the 
smooth worn tires of the bus struck gravel, trembling on the cliff of a deep 
arroyo. 

Damn Yankees get too nervous, swore the driver under his breath as with 
irritation he pulled his vehicle back to the center of the road. Helga, 
catching a glimpse of his lewd eyes in the rear view mirror, yanked her 
dress down sharply over her thighs. As if her body hadn't caused enough 
troubles without getting them all killed just because a foolish driver 
couldn't keep his eyes off her chest and on the road. 

Her thoughts of the betraying man who'd befriended her in Mazatlan were 
distracted as the bus plunged headlong into another pothole in the road and 
rose up in the air like an elephant attempting to trample a lion. Two nuns 
in the front row seized their rosary beads with one hand and their seats 
with the other, suffering silently for the sins of mankind. Seated behind 
the driver sat a drunken bum who inevitably seemed to try to take a sip just 
as the rusty old vehicle was about to lunge into the air. Whiskey dribbled 
from his stubbled chin, but still, he managed to drink enough to blot out 
how fearfully close to his maker he'd come with the last jilt of the bus. 

Helga tried to look out the window and concentrate on the view instead of 
her misery, but her mind was elsewhere. Sadly, she remembered how jubilant 
she felt at meeting Douglas Kinsey on the beach... how he gave her a place 
to stay, took her out to dinner, arranged for friends to pick her up in the 
San Antonio bus depot and drive her to the airport. He had turned her life 
upside down the same way this damned bus was turning her stomach upside 
down. 

Polly broke the silence with a kittenish whimper. "Wh-what's gonna become of 
us? I wanna go home..." 

Helga hid her own chagrin behind a feigned smile. "Don't worry... we'll get 
out of this... wait and see." 





* * * * * 





The sky had turned pink, fading into a hazy grey when the bus pulled into 
the Monterrey bus depot and squawking chickens, prayerful nuns and drunks 
debarked. Tired, hungry and abysmally depressed, Polly and Helga were 
ushered to a taxi that sped off for the mountains skirting the city. The 
greenery passed in a blurred flicker as the car wound its snaky path up the 
scrub-bushed side. What hell lay ahead of them, they were too tired to ask. 

It must have been around noon, on the last leg of their journey, when the 
taxi made the last hairpin curve and drove down a driveway flanked with 
azaleas and magnolias and came to a jerking halt at the wrought iron gate 
where an armed sentinel stood guard. 

The Spanish chatter awakened Helga who lifted her weary head from her cell 
mate's shoulder and nudged Polly awake. "Look... it's not home, but it's 
sure not Nuevo Laredo!" 

No cockroaches here! A servant, well dressed in a crisply starched white 
uniform opened the gate and waved the taxi on down the brick drive toward a 
mansion set in a wooded area, its white columned pillars standing out in a 
clump of lush greenery where splashy colored birds of exotic species snapped 
at insects from high boughed perches. 

"This is the General's house?" Polly whispered, her green eyes taking in the 
richer hue of this oasis of magnificence in the midst of Mexican squalor. "I 
thought it was going to be another prison?" A baffled look crossed her Cupie 
doll face. "Why did they send us here I thought this was the ultimate 
prison...?" 

"Hmmm... I don't know..." lied Helga, remembering clearly Manuel's threats 
about what happened to uncooperative female prisoners. "We'll find out soon 
enough..." 

A fresh faced Mexican girl-not more than fourteen-opened the cab door and 
led the handcuffed girls into a stucco building around the back of the 
mansion that served as a dormitory for the 'visitors.' The girls shuffled 
along through the entrance way, an Alice in Wonderland look on their faces 
as they passed the solarium, the indoor swimming pool tiled in mosaics and 
the exercise room that reminded Helga of a health spa. Obviously, The 
General treated his prisoners well. 

A guard undid the lock on their handcuffs while a masseuse hastened to 
massage their aching wrists with oil to heal their chapped skin. First to 
the sunken tubbed bathroom for a languid soak, then to the dining room for 
lunch... and nobody swore at them, nobody molested them, and nobody hinted 
at what all this pampering would lead to. After lunch, a uniformed guard led 
them to their shared bedroom at the end of the hall and they collapsed into 
the linen-dressed beds-with no blood stains and no cockroaches-and slept the 
sleep of the damned. 





* * * * * 





The sun had streaked orange ribbons, casting dark shadows over the valleys 
below when a timid knock on the door awoke Helga with a start. In that hazy, 
indefinable moment of confusion, she was back at the University dormitory. 
Dorothy was at the door, waking her up for a class. 

"Senoritas... the day is nearly to an end. It is time for you to dress. The 
maid weell bring you coffee soon." 

"Hmmmm?" Polly rustled lazily in her sleep, then opened one emerald eye to 
see her roommate sitting up in bed yawning, wearing the hospital-white robe 
supplied by The General. 

"Come on, Polly. Time to get up and meet your maker. Something weird is 
going on around here... and I have the feeling we're about to find out." 

"I don't wanna get up yet," complained the younger girl, throwing back her 
covers. "God, what a mess I got myself into... just for one crumby bag of 
dope. I could have scored in LA with no hassle." 

The door opened slowly and a maid sauntered in, soft as a cat, holding a 
tray with a silver pot of coffee, two cups, a sugar bowl and cream pitcher, 
sided by a rosebud in a crystal vase. "For the Seoritas..." she said in 
perfect English. She poured their coffee and left. 

Two cups each and a second knock sounded at the door. "Seoritas... are you 
ready for your bath and shampoo? The hair-dresser is waiting." 

Polly and Helga exchanged baffled looks. Hairdresser...? "I've never gone to 
a hairdresser in my life," put in Helga, running her slender fingers through 
her waist-length hair. 

"Si, Seoritas... he weell be in to see you in feefteen minutes." The maid 
disappeared behind the closed door. 

The girls were sipping at their third cup when a knock rattled the door. 
"Senoritas... we must have you fitted for your evening gowns. May I come in 
and take your measurements?" 

Evening gowns... what kind of prisoners are we? 

"Si..." The maid shuffled in without a welcome and bid the girls to stand 
up, allowing her to slip the tape measure around their vital spots. "Hmmm... 
The General weell be pleased with the Senoritas. The Virgin Mary has blessed 
you well," chuckled the kind faced woman, pulling the tape to a tight 37 
inches around Helga's breasts. The seamstress turned on her heel and 
departed. 

What was this...? Some wacky version of Queen for a Day? Something 
disgustingly deceptive was going on behind the scenes in this jeweled palace 
and it didn't smell of roses. 

For the first time in nearly twenty-four hours, the girls were separated. 
Polly whimpered pathetically and Helga smelled trouble as the guard directed 
them to separate rooms. 

The hairdresser and seamstress fussed over Helga with the ceremonious 
meticulosness of a princess being readied for her wedding... or was it a 
virgin for the sacrifice? They wound her shimmering locks into long-finger 
curls, pulled back high on her head and crowned her with fresh azaleas. The 
make-up was a bit garish for Helga's tastes but the effect of the smoky grey 
eye shadow and false eyelashes fluttering over her rosy high cheek bones was 
nothing short of mystical. They glossed her lips in a shimmering red hue 
that made them pout out like a Monroe cheesecake shot. They touched and 
re-touched her make up until not a pore could be seen. Helga watched with 
curious delight until they tugged the skimpy gold lame dress over her 
shoulders and yanked up the zipper, almost taking a bit of her flesh with 
it. 

"Senorita, ees beeeutiful!" the seamstress clapped her hands in proud 
jubilation. "Seorita... you must look to see!" 

If it felt tight, it looked even tighter. Helga let out a horrified gasp at 
the reflection staring back at her in the triptych mirror, turning for a 
profile that would have made her mother cry and her father throw all 
incestuous taboos to the wind. 

The dress clung to her mounded flesh with the tenacity of wet jersey; its 
glittering gold lame caught the light and spangled off the protruding mounds 
of her heavy breasts, sparkling diamond-like at the chips of her nipples. It 
nipped in her waist to twenty inches and stretched gently over the smooth 
mounds of her hips and, sleekly as a caressing hand down over her thighs. 
Helga's stomach protruded just a flattering bit, and if it hadn't been for 
the slit in front of the skirt, that stabbed right up to the elastic band of 
her bikini panties, she wouldn't have been able to take a step. For a modest 
farmer's daughter accustomed to hiding her lush body under levis and loose 
shirts, it was a sinful sight. 

"This is... awful! I can't let anybody see me in this!" she wailed, much to 
the seamstress' distress. I look... worse than naked! Panic set in and she 
darted for the door, her spike heeled gold shoes tapping hammer-like on the 
tile floor. The guards caught her and swooping in on her, linked their arms 
with hers and persuasively ushered her out the door into the warm, insect 
buzzing night. 

"Get your hands off of me... you brutes!" she flared, biting her lip and 
trying to shake loose from their iron grips. "You can't do this to me!" 

"Don't be a fool," hissed the guard on her right. "This is no high school 
dance... this is The General's annual party. I wouldn't make a fuss if I 
were you." 

Helga's jaw fell slack. "You're... an American! What are you doing here?" 
She scuffed her right toe, struggling to keep up with their pace. 

"Working off a sentence... like you." 

"What . . . what do you mean?" she asked breathlessly. "What's this all 
about?" 

Time allowed for no explanation. They rounded the manicured grounds nearing 
the front of the pillared mansion, coming upon a setting that reminded Helga 
of a scene from The Great Gatsby. A line-up of shiny black limousines driven 
by valets, made small circles in the cul-de-sac and formally attired 
military men bogged down by heavy medals dangling on scarlet ribbons emerged 
one by one from the cars and sauntered with square-shouldered military 
posture up the polished marble steps of the mansion. 

The guards ushered the panic stricken prisoner to the steps and let go. 
Helga's fluttery eyelashes grazed over her rouged cheek bones as her head 
craned in every direction, wondering which way to run. First a lesbian rapes 
me... now they dress me up like a whore. What do they want of me? 

Somebody knew the answer but wasn't telling... a medal-speckled military 
officer walked brazenly up to her, took a low bow, and slipped his arm 
graciously through hers. 

"Greetings, Seorita. Are you from Nuevo Laredo or Santa Marta? We have been 
receiving our most beautiful women from those two prisons," he beamed. "Tell 
me, my dear, was it marijuana or cocaine?" 

Helga's skinny heel caught in the hem of her dress and she nearly stumbled 
on the step, but he caught her. "What... are you talking about?" she 
stammered, her legs aching from the four inch heels and her head pounding 
with fear. "I... I came from Nuevo Laredo..." How does he know so much about 
me? 

At the entrance to the foyer, lit with candles and crystal chandeliers, her 
smoky lidded blue eyes took in the crowd of mingling military men and young 
American women who, like Helga, were dressed in shimmering evening gowns and 
looked half distressed and fully confused. Like Helga, too, all were 
exceedingly beautiful women. 

"Let me introduce myself. I am Major Jose Emanuel," the impeccably manicured 
forty-some year old said in perfect English. He turned his head in an 
arrogant profile and despite the fear rattling through her veins, Helga's 
heart beat faster at the swarthy symmetry of his handsomely distinguished 
Spanish features: the receding hairline above an aquiline nose, straight and 
dignified, the dark sensuous eyes and proud angle of the chin. He seemed 
steeped in military dignity. "And the Seorita?" 

"I'm Helga... Helga Anderson," she answered in a lopsided smile, captivated 
by his Spanish charm. Black haired men had always been her downfall. 

"Greetings to you, my dear. You are a most beautiful woman. You are 
Scandinavian, maybe? The General shall be most pleased to meet you, I am 
sure." Two blazing black eyes scraped over the lush mounds of her 
magnificent body, stopping to rest at the chips of her hardened nipples 
hugged tight by her one-strapped gown. "May I offer the Seorita a drink?" 

The dining room, a menagerie of chandeliers casting crystal sparkles off of 
gold trimmed mirrors, smelled heavily of ripe, fertile flowers that hung 
from woven baskets everywhere. The full length of the burgundy carpeted room 
was monopolized by the buffet table where polished silver chafing dishes 
smelled richly of fresh herbs, exotic seafoods and an array of delights such 
as Helga's potato eating ancestry had never tasted: 

avocados, mangos, papayas. A servant lifted the silver lid of a chafing dish 
and, heaping a plate of lobster bits, handed it to Helga who delved into the 
appetizers with a harvester-appetite. 

Jose brought her a glass of sangria from the carved-ice punch bowl floating 
with flowers and she drank thirstily, momentarily forgetting about her 
captive plight. 

"I suppose you are wondering what you are doing here?" Jose said, studying 
her over the crystal rim of his sangria glass. His eyes bored with ripe 
salacity into the nipples of her one-strapped evening gown and flickers of 
yesterday's debauchery flitted through her mind like birds on wing-all 
heading South, down between her slim thighs. 

"I must admit, I am confused. You Mexicans have a knack for deception. One 
day I'm sleeping with cockroaches and the next I'm dining on lobster. I 
don't get it," she put in bluntly, licking off the butter-dripping toothpick 
with her glossy pooched out lips. 

"You will be sleeping with a lot more than cockroaches before you ever go 
home to your America, again," he said in an icy witticism. 

The wheat fields of North Dakota and momma's home-baked cookies seemed to be 
memories from a past lifetime... totally out of sequence was this horror of 
imprisonment. 

Abruptly, Jose left, leaving his captive standing there in a whirlpool of 
confusion and fear. The allowable had not yet been sifted from the 
forbidden, and her knees knocked in fear of making a faux pas that would 
send her back behind bars. 

Someone was tapping her on the shoulder, warm soft fingers touching her 
naked flesh. It was Polly, stuffing her mouth with sauted crab meet. 

"Isn't this fantastic?" she gushed. "The food! My God!" She licked the 
butter from her fingers and held up a chunk of coral crab meat. "Want 
some...? And your date... he's dreamy!" 

"Polly... he's not my date, for Godsakes... this isn't a high school prom... 
oh...! OH...! OH MY GOD!" 

Two hands snaked out from nowhere and grabbed Polly from behind, dragging 
her through a side door in a flurry of kicking feet and rumpled curls. 
Helga's heart stabbed in her bosomy chest and her hand flew to her rouged 
mouth. 

That was the last time Helga would ever see her bubbly friend... with that 
same sweet innocent smile on her baby-dimpled face. 

Jose, wary of his neglected duties, was there in a flash, castigating her 
with a frown. Communication between prisoners was strictly disavowed. 

"It's time, my dear, for us to retire to the entertainment room. You may 
take your drink with you," he said smoothly. 

Helga followed docilely. 





* * * * * 





In the ensuing foray, Polly fought like a frightened cat, scratching and 
clawing at the brown arms that held her tight to the chair. She missed the 
guard's shin by a quarter inch and her left shoe flew through the room, 
crashing finally into the book case where it sent a ceramic statue crashing 
to the carpet in a thousand pieces. 

"You can't treat me like this! I... I haven't done anything!" she spat 
through pearly teeth. The spaghetti straps of her blue chiffon gown slipped 
over her creamy shoulders and crept down over the firm smooth flesh of her 
naked breasts until the berry tip of one puffy nipple peeked out over a wall 
of blue. 

"No! NO! GET THAT AWAY FROM ME!" Polly's apple green eyes stared into the 
cool grey ones of the hypnotist, challenging his power, spitting at the gold 
pendant dangling in front of her panic-twisted face. 

Frantically, she shook her head. "No...! No... you can't do... this to me!" 
she screamed, until her fear-widened orbs locked on the yellow gold object 
moving mesmerically before her dimpled face, like the smoothly moving hands 
of a well-made clock. "No...!" Her eyes moved to the right. "No...? Then to 
the left, until her protests quelled to a whisper. 

"When I snap my fingers you will go into a trance. You will feel no pain... 
but you will respond as your body wishes, feeling only joy. When I snap my 
fingers and count from one to ten, you will awaken from this trance..." 

Polly stared fixedly ahead, now, unseeing as the ceramic statue that lay on 
the General's carpet in a thousand shattered pieces. 

CHAPTER SIX 

General Cuervos sat contently in his plush office sipping imported scotch 
and watching the Annual Military Ball on the triple-screened video 
machine-unseen eyes that roved over the crowd of ripe, young American women 
dressed in sheer gowns that hugged every nipple and pubic hair like a coat 
of gossamer paint. The General loved women of all descriptions, but young 
and innocent American ones topped the list. What better place to find 
luckless white female victims to satisfy his lust than in Mexican prisons? 
Maybe that was why his half-hearted crackdown on the dope smuggling-was done 
nowhere, except at the exit borders where any pretty young white girl was 
held suspect. 

The General's black eyes raked over the crowd of garishly dressed Gringas 
until his eyes fell on a gold lam gown spangling out above the pastel 
chiffons. Twisting the knobs with pudgy fingers, he zeroed in on Helga's 
hardened nipples, licked his thick lips, and trailed the lens down over her 
rounded tummy to rest at the vee of her luscious loins. 

"General, you see that beautiful Scandinavian-American woman in the gold 
dress? She ees one of my preesoners from Nuevo Laredo! Would the General 
like a private meeting with her?" He might have been peddling cooking wares 
on a Mazatlan street corner. "Beautiful blonde hair... and oh, those 
cream-white breasts!" he coaxed, knowing the General's appreciation for a 
pretty piece of white flesh that came wrapped in a bright, shiny package. 

General Cuervos rubbed his half erect penis through the cotton trap of his 
uniform pants and watched Helga's pooched-out red lips, slick the butter 
from the appetizer stick as if it were a cock sticky with cum. "I will save 
the blonde Seorita for the end. Now find me a little lovely to get me in 
the mood, Lieutenant." 

Manuel slapped one boot against the other, saluted and turned on his heel, 
heading out into the foyer where he eyed a shivering little blonde cowering 
in a corner like a frightened rabbit. Someday I weell be the General and 
command a woman to suck my cock... beautiful women such as these instead of 
dogs like Maria. 

He grabbed the blonde girl by the arm. "Come weeth me, Seorita. I weell 
take the tears from your pretty eyes," he cajoled traitorously. She fought 
and spat and kicked at his shins with her spike heels, but Manuel's cunning 
won in the end. "Come... I weell take you to a quiet room... away from the 
crowd..." Sniffling, the young teenager wiped the mascara smudges away and 
followed docilely. 





* * * * * 





After Manuel had left, General Cuervos unzipped his fly and brought his 
thickening cock out into the opening. Breathing deeply with anticipation, he 
skinned the thick wealth of foreskin back and forth lewdly, enjoying the 
silken feel of its blood-gushed length while with one eye maintaining vigil 
on the colored video, he watched the blonde converse with a dimple-cheeked 
girl who caught her breath, wide-eyed, as one of his guards grabbed her from 
behind. Her kicking spike heels disappeared from the screen as Lieutenant 
Sanchez dragged Polly away into a separate room. Yes... good choice for 
tonight's show, silently applauded the General. 

The tender desire-inflamed slit in the tip opened slightly with his 
squeezing, and a thin trickle of pre-coital fluid began to ooze from it. 

"General," Lieutenant Manuel was back in the room and squeezing the young 
girl's arm so tight his knuckles turned white. "General... thees is good 
choice, no?" 

The General blinked with surprise. "Good job, Manuel... you shall be well 
rewarded for your good taste." She couldn't have been more than sixteen... 
and scared to death, which made his victory all the sweeter. 

"Your name, Seorita?" 

"Julie..." 

"Julie... come up here and let me get an eye full of you," the General 
ordered excitedly. 

"No... no, I won't!" she suddenly shrieked. "Please, let me out of here... 
let me go home!" The frightened young prisoner shook visibly as Manuel 
nudged her across the room toward the General. The terrified young girl 
blinked and recoiled from the obscene leer she saw on his face. 

"Come up closer, little one," the General said in a gloating tone, suddenly 
reaching out and grabbing the teenager by the wrist and pulling her over to 
his side of the desk. "How does the Seorita like the General's penis?" 

The fear stricken young blonde could only blink her astonishment at the size 
of the military man's cock approaching her from around the desk. She had 
never seen one up close like this before... and certainly never one so long, 
hard and jutting as the one he held in his churning hand. 

"It's s-so big!" she gasped in astonishment. 

Still holding his pulsing cock, the General rose to his feet, simultaneously 
yanking the girl downward until her pretty face was mere inches from his 
penis. "Touch it, my lovely one. Feel my prick!" 

The sniffling girl lost her balance and slipped to her knees, looking up at 
him desperately. "If-if I d-do... will you let me go home to Iowa?" 

The General could afford to be generous. "Yes, Julie, you can then go back 
to Iowa." 

Happily, then, she encircled its enormous thickness with her tiny hand, her 
fingers not quite meeting around it. Hopefully, she peeled the thickened 
covering of loose skin back down over its flushed red head, peeling it like 
a banana, leaving it sleek and naked. Anything to get back to Iowa... "D-Do 
you want me to suck it?" 

"Lick it first, little one," he chuckled lewdly, a dribble of spittle making 
a wet spot on his scarlet ribbon across his burly chest. "All over, like 
it's an ice cream treat." 

Hesitating a moment to mentally prepare herself, the captive prisoner leaned 
forward, balancing herself on her knees, a pool of pink chiffon around her, 
she held his obscenely seeping cock by its stalky base and placed a lewd wet 
kiss on its bulbous tip with her pursed red lips. The taste of his cock was 
slightly bitter and strong-sort of like prison coffee-but at least he was 
fairly clean. The rubbery blood-filled head glided smoothly over her lips as 
she opened her mouth to lap at it with her tiny pink tongue. She was no 
stranger to cocksucking... Lieutenant Salvo down in Santa Marta had already 
forced her into it several times, now. 

"You'd better stop now, Julie..." 

Almost reluctantly, the kneeling young blonde girl leaned back on her 
haunches, looking angelic and innocent in her pink chiffon dress, spangled 
with rhinestones. 

The General dropped back into his leather recliner. "Take your dress off. I 
want to see if your little white gringa breasts are as lovely as your 
mouth." Then, as she quickly stripped off her spaghetti straps, pulling the 
dress down over her milky white shoulders to let her strawberry nipples peek 
out, he said, "Beautiful. Now get over here and finish me off." 

The half naked girl inched forward on her knees, her small, but smoothly 
formed breasts jiggling with her forward movements. God, his cock was big! 

"Take it in your mouth, Julie, like a good little girl and then maybe you 
can go back to Iowa." The General's penis was now fully aroused and 
throbbing massively, reaching all the way back into the prisoner's slender 
sucking throat, tickling her, nearly causing her to gag. His huge hands 
gripped her cruelly by the hair, forcing her pale face up and down on his 
brown pumping flesh like an oil rig. 

"You suck very well, Julie. Smooth as a baby's ass!" he grated out 
lustfully, keeping one eye on the video machine where the gold lam beauty 
was drinking her share of Sangria. 

Julie's dazed eyes focused on the rod of lust-heavy dark male flesh emerging 
from the tangle of wiry black pubic hair at its base, and disappearing from 
her line of vision as it stretched all the way past her parted lips and up 
into her open mouth. Now, her humiliation and degradation complete, she 
wallowed in masochistic delight. 

"Suck baby, suck! Suck my cock!" The General commanded from high above her 
bobbing head. 

Obediently, the sleek, blonde haired white girl began to do as she was told, 
her lips nibbling baby-like on the powerful Mexican man's cock, while she 
tried to accustom herself to the lewd invasion of her mouth. In an effort to 
please him, and perhaps to end her two weeks of torment, she began tossing 
her saliva-wet tongue around and around the hotly pulsing glans. 

"Tight as a suction cup, baby. You're great!" The General grunted 
appreciatively, the medals on his chest clanging together with the movement 
of his grinding loins. 

Slowly at first, he thrust his cock in and out of her wetly nursing mouth, 
but never quite withdrawing all the way, so the tip of his bulging 
instrument of lust always remained buried within the confines of her warm, 
wet oral cavern. 

Julie's mouth was gradually filling with saliva made slightly sticky from 
the steady flow of semen seeping prematurely from the tip of her captor's 
lust-purpled penis. As she continued to slave over his loins, she realized 
that her vacation in Mexico was almost to an end... and the thought of 
returning to Iowa seemed an almost scary one. Maybe now, after all she'd 
been through, she didn't want to go home after all...? Would her family 
still want her after all she had done and been forced to do? Would the farm 
boys in Iowa appreciate her mouth and tongue the way this burly Mexican 
General was? 

By now, she was reduced to giving her Mexican captors all the pleasure and 
getting very little back herself. Oddly, the subservient posture they had 
forced her into was warming up her libido and just now, she wished he would 
do something about the flickers of need sparking over her naked breasts and 
rushing down to her furry little blonde vee, under the gossamer yards of 
pink chiffon. 

But the General was a selfish man. He ran his long dark fingers into the 
young girl's blonde hair, sticky with hairspray, and began to force her face 
up and down more violently on his hotly thrusting brown cock, precisely as 
if her delicate pink mouth were just another cunt into which he could spew 
his sperm. His eyes traveled from the exquisite Nordic features of her small 
pixie face, noting with lewd delight the rapturous sparkle in her Gringa 
blue eyes. 

Julie's mouth was overflowing with a mixture of her own saliva and her 
captor's flowing sexual juices. Despite the long deep gulps she swallowed 
down to keep from gagging, rivulets of lewd stringy penile moisture dripped 
from the corners of her soft mouth to run down the sides of his pulsing cock 
shaft in a steady syrupy stream. Her lips nearly burst at the corners from 
stretching around their burden, yet, despite her discomfort, she was deeply 
thrilled at the level of corruption this man was forcing her to submit to 
her to against her will. And she would be going home soon... if she still 
could... or even wanted to, at this point. 

The General immediately sensed the change of attitude in this slavishly 
sucking girl, and knew he could not hold out much longer against the 
mind-boggling pressure. Bizarre, obscene fantasies danced in his head as he 
felt the tension in his balls build to an intolerable level. Snarling, he 
tightened his grip on the girl's blonde locks, forcing her down harder on 
his crazily jerking penis. Gringas made very good cocksuckers, docile, and 
easily trained, but they had an annoying habit of jerking their heads away 
at the last minute.... detesting the taste of their Mexican captor's 
ball-seed. So to assure that wouldn't happen, the General held her head 
tight by her blonde hair. 

A sudden ringing and pounding rattled in The General's head as the flow of 
his cum gurgled from deep within his semen-bloated balls and made its 
gushing journey through the length of his jerking cock. The muscles of his 
abdomen went tight, contracting to send the heated load of his sperm roiling 
upwards through its narrow channel around and out of the tip of his cock in 
a powerful spray... deep into Julie's gaping mouth, and far back into her 
throat! 

"Ummmmmmmm..." Julie shuddered. 

His last violent thrust went deep, all the way to her tonsils and he held it 
there while he squirted his orgasm over the roof of her still-sucking mouth, 
right on her pink tongue, bloating out her cheeks. His wriggling little 
sperm came out in a hot stream of thick viscous liquid that never seemed to 
end. 

"Suck it, baby, suck it!!!" The General commanded. He rarely became excited 
except for moments like these when his bulbous cheeks reddened from the 
strain on his heart. 

"You just won yourself a trip across the border!" The thick cream-like cum 
spewed into her gulping, swallowing mouth, from his wildly ejaculating 
penis, filling her mouth with what seemed to be gallons of his salty, lusty 
semen as she gurgled and gasped frantically, trying to swallow down the lewd 
mouthful. 

"Yessssss! Eat it all!" 

Julie choked and sputtered until she had cleared her throat again, but The 
General made no attempt to pull his slowly deflating penis from her sucking 
mouth. Instinctively, the blonde farm girl knew what her captor wanted and 
she docilely kissed and licked him completely clean, her firm young breasts 
bouncing like so much Jello with the submissive, bobbing movements of her 
head. Her eyes sparkled with a strange glow as she blinked at him and even 
smiled angelically. 

The General was deep in thought... patting the girl's bowed blonde head as 
if she was a favored pet, one eye still glued to the video screen from which 
Helga had disappeared. That was fantastic, but what I'm going to do to that 
tall blonde will be revolutionary... 

Finished with her salacious, humiliating task, the blonde girl wiped her 
sperm-filled mouth clean with the back of her hand and sadly smiled up at 
her captor who zipped up his pants, tucking away his deflated penis, and 
plucked a medal from his chest. Rarely did the General fall into this 
vulnerable, generous mood... but when he did, it cleared his conscience as 
communion does for Christian believers. 

"Here... take this back to the States to remember me by," he chuckled, 
generously. "Whenever you look at it, you will remember your time here in 
Mexico, and the things you have learned. You may leave tomorrow, after the 
guards are finished with you." 

The thoroughly rumpled and humiliated American girl hugged the cool medal to 
her pale, naked breasts, then kissed it reverently. "Oh, thank you, Mr. 
General..." she gushed. 



CHAPTER SEVEN 

Major Jose Emanuel slipped his arm through Helga's and escorted her through 
the dining room and down a hallway to a darkened room at the end. Half of 
the seats were already filled and the Major hastened to pick one perfectly 
situated center-front of the stage that dominated the room. 

"W-What's going to happen?" the gold-spangled prisoner shuddered. "I don't 
want to stay here!" 

"But you will and you must," ordered the Major, losing patience. "And don't 
be silly!" 

Her wide-rounded, gold mounded hips and rear wriggled undulantly as Helga 
submissively followed the Major into the darkened chamber and sat down next 
to him on a low chaise. She heard a seam rip when she bent her knees to sit 
down, and the Major offered her an unconcealed smirk. The heady smell of his 
Sangria sweet breath on her naked neck caused far more fearful tremors in 
her young body than a silly ripped-loose seam! Oh, God, that look on his 
face... I can tell he's dying to get his hands on me! 

Everything in the room was garishly ornate, from the heavy burgundy and gold 
velvet covering the walls to the mirrors on the ceiling. Nothing in North 
Dakota could match it! 

Helga glanced around her to see how the other prisoners were coping with 
these sluttish clothes and military body guards. She gulped at the sight of 
a girl groaning in despair behind her, deep in the arms of her lewd, 
breast-groping Mexican captor while a girl to the right of her slumped down 
miserably in her seat, her blue eyes half closed, biting a full lower lip, 
while her guard rummaged boldly and crudely under her chiffon skirt with his 
hands. 

Silent as cats, the servants came in and placed a pitcher of Sangria on each 
table, darting out again as the lights turned low and the spot-light shone 
in a single beam onto the stage. 

Helga's hand grasped her glass as if trying to choke it, and a lump in her 
throat rose when the curtains parted onto a beautiful Mexican girl with 
raven hair swishing to her nipped in waist. From the tips of her brown 
peso-sized nipples, to her jeweled belly button, she was one mass of 
goosebumped satin flesh, covered only by a mask and a black velvet cape. Her 
long tapered legs peeked out from the fishnet stockings held up by a black 
lace garter belt suspended around her hips. 

But it was the bullwhip in her hands that caused Helga to catch her breath. 
The girl flicked it, and all the female prisoners, hearing that familiar 
crack, sat up one inch taller. 

The masked girl, sneered at her audience and slowly licked her lips with the 
tip of her velvety pink tongue; undulantly, she rolled her hips as if on 
ball bearings until the petals of her pink pussy were glistening with 
droplets of perspiration and perverted female excitement. 

"Good evening, Gringa girls. My name is Rose and I welcome you here to the 
General's house. You probably wonder why you have been chosen to attend this 
affair... you lovely young American things... You are all dressed to his 
General's personal liking, eating his fine food, drinking his wine. But 
don't forget you are still his prisoners!" 

A hush fell over the audience, interrupted by a wet sniffle, moan, and a 
pitiful whimper, silenced immediately by the fierce crack of the lash. 

Rose curled her luscious upper lip, hands poised on one out-thrust hip, feet 
wide apart. "Now you will see how we treat our Gringa prisoners. Welcome to 
the Mexican Prison Nightmare...!" 

Helga watched in terror as Rose turned on her heel, bent over and wriggled 
her nakedly round brown buttocks. Simultaneously, a gong thundered, setting 
everyone on the brink of their chairs, a higher beamed light pierced through 
the inky darkness of the stage to illuminate a bed. Rose snarled a roaring 
animal sound, twirling her whip in the air and brought it down to wrap 
around the iron bedposts like a coiled snake. 

A scream shivered from the bed and a pale, naked young woman wriggled 
seductively there... a girl so tenderly young, so defenselessly close to the 
prime of her life. 

Suddenly Helga clasped her glass as if teetering on the brink of insanity. 
"Eeeeiikkk!" Her hands flew to her mouth. "That's Polly!" 

Major Emanuel clamped his hand over hers and ordered her to be silent as the 
show went on. Helga's heart burned in her chest as the masked girl sashayed 
across the stage, her big breasts jiggling like water-filled balloons. Again 
her evil whip hissed through the air and crackled above the bed where Polly 
cowered in real fear. The third crack of the lash bit across Polly's nakedly 
trembling stomach, leaving an angry red welt. 

Helga's mouth went bone dry and her eyes squeezed out salty tears as she 
watched her cellmate press her legs together in a futile attempt to huddle 
away from Rose's whip and the shaming eyes of the audience. Helga screamed 
with the next lash that sizzled over Polly's snowy white thigh. 

"Nooooo... noooo!" came Polly's familiar little-girl whimper from the stage. 
"Help me... somebody help me!" Helga closed her eyes, trying to shut out the 
hiss of the whip slapping over Polly's naked, whimpering little white body, 
and when she clapped her hands over her ears, Jose pulled them roughly away. 

"Don't make a spectacle of yourself, little white whore, or you'll be next!" 
Opening one blue eye she watched her naked young companion's body squirm and 
wiggle like a worm cut in half by a spade. Polly's ripe little breasts 
jumped and quivered and with the next crack of the whip she screamed in 
agonized pain, her emerald eyes grey with fear as she lifted her head from 
the bed to stare at the red welt snaked across her arm and shoulder. 
Cowering, Polly pulled her knees up to her chest in a prenatal position and 
wept. 

"Obey me!" Rose snarled. 

Polly panted for breath, her lungs burning with fear, eyes clenched shut... 
reluctantly, she nodded her head quickly in acquiescence. 

"Roll over on your back, Gringa!" The whip flicked through the air and 
snapped like a rifle shot over the bed. 

Wasting no time, Polly rolled over on her back, thighs pressed together, 
eyes swollen shut with fear. The menacing whip bit at her legs this time, 
followed by the demand: "Spread your legs!" 

Helga thought she might be sick. What kind of Medieval torture was this? 
Except for the screams and snaking whip, the room was stony silent... not 
totally out of empathy, however, as the girl spread her long, lithe legs, 
giving everyone a peek at the swollen velvety lips of her little pink cunt 
nestled in a wedge of brown pubic curls. 

The military men in the audience sucked in their breath, in a collective 
hiss of lust while the female prisoners shuddered in fear... their 
collective conscience telling them it could be any one of them up there on 
the stage being humiliated and beaten. 

Rose yanked off her mask, stomped on it, and kicked it toward the audience. 
This time the whip left a red welt on Polly's firm breasts, the tip wrapped 
around the rosebud of her nipple. "I said open them... open your legs wide! 
Knees up and open!" 

Stifling her sobs, Polly obeyed, spreading her legs so far apart that the 
cords stood out like velvet ropes along her inner thighs. The whip hissed 
another warning over her pale body and she cringed and bent her knees 
upward. Then she lay unmoving, her naked breasts quivering like set jell-o, 
her legs doing an impossible split, while the tears streaming down her 
pain-twisted face smeared black smudges of mascara along her satin cheeks. 

"You see our little Gringa loves to be treated like this!" Rose said 
sardonically. "Look at the Gringa's pink pussy... see how wet it is?" 

Sure enough, one by one, pairs of frightened eyes faded to curious ones, and 
almost imperceptibly, everyone in the audience rose an inch or two off his 
seat and leaned forward for a better peek. A gasp emanated from the crowd as 
all eyes studied the erect pink clitoris-nub throbbing with excitement, the 
glistening dewy wetness in the delicate, splayed-open inner sex-lips. 

"This is disgusting!" blasted Helga, glaring up into Jose's smirking face. 
"She's my friend... she doesn't deserve to be treated like this!" 

Jose raised his thick eyebrows in answer to that charge. "You'll see..." was 
all he said. 

Helga's brain refused to believe what her eyes saw. Nobody could get 
sexually aroused from being treated like an animal! Subconsciously, she 
blotted out her own experience with Maria... and the bittersweet orgasm of 
that lesbian coupling. 

Rose flipped her black cape over her shoulder, giving the audience a healthy 
peek of her melonous breasts that jounced with her every wicked step. With a 
twisted smile she said: "Our prisoner will be forced to do many things for 
you tonight." Rose winked at her audience, then bent her knees, feet wide 
apart and tilted her pelvis up. With her blood- red lacquered fingertips, 
she spread apart the swollen petals of her own pussy... wide enough for 
everyone to see the oily marble of her clitoris, which she gave a few 
polishing strokes and a rub. "What you don't know..." she said throatily, 
tossing back her mane of raven hair, "...is that she likes it. That little 
innocent American bitch likes being whipped!" 

A barely audible gasp-a mixture of sucked in breath and hot panting 
breathing-rippled through the dark room and the clink of crystal glasses 
hitting the marble table tops signaled that many were calming rapid pulses 
with a drink of Sangria. 

"You may think we are merely torturing this young gringa girl... but 
remember, this is for your pleasure, too." Her grin was cold enough to 
freeze water. "Even though you are sitting in your seats, you are part of 
what goes on up here. Her humiliation is also for your pleasure." 

The brilliant yellow light bathed Polly in an unearthly glow, her alabaster 
legs split wide as they would stretch, striped with red welts. Helga 
swallowed dryly, crying inside, hating the General and his camaraderie of 
perverts for debasing her cellmate like this... and she saw the puddle of 
pearly juices oozing from Polly's pink little pussy, dribbling down between 
her legs to dampen the sheet on the bed. Helga refused to believe the 
obvious. 

Nobody was listening to Rose's wicked diatribe about pain and pleasure... so 
engrossed were they with the pretty American girl's haplessly seeping vagina 
and the total humiliation of her condition. Every girl in the room had more 
or less suffered some of the same degradation at the hands of the Mexican 
police... and seeing a fellow American prisoner nakedly getting excited 
served as a lurid reminder of that shameful defeat of their own psyche. 
Helga realized just that and she withered. 

Rose cupped one milky breast and pulled its weight up to her mouth, then 
licked the pink puffy nipple until it puckered. "This is a play about life, 
little gringas..." she pinched and twisted her own dark nipples as she 
talked, "...about life in our Mexican prisons. You Gringas may think we 
Mexicans torture you, but we are actually giving you pleasure as well! This 
play is a way to give you, your..." and she hissed the word, "freedom!" 

Helga sank back in her seat, withering, as if kicked in the stomach. What 
depths of perversion would these monsters leave untapped? After watching her 
innocent young cellmate being shamed to death, the answer was obvious... 
nothing! They would strip every American girl in the room of her decency and 
self respect before finally freeing them in the name of the law. In private, 
the ravishment of a lesbian was tolerable... well, almost acceptable... but 
to be humiliated in front of an audience was downright... perverted! 

God, why am I getting excited at watching my cellmate being beaten? What's 
wrong with me? The blonde haired prisoner squirmed nervously against the 
cushions of the chaise and felt an electric tingle of sensation as a hard 
seam brushed against her vulva through the coarse lam of her gown. God... 
I'm all... wet down there! she thought in self-deprecation, and somewhere in 
her mind she was wishing she could reach down and stick a finger up inside 
herself. Something about watching innocent Polly at the hands of a mad woman 
reminded her of Maria's convincing tactics and a hot itch snaked its way 
between her legs. She had to get some air or she would pass out! Her half 
empty glass of Sangria tumbled to the floor, spilling over her dress as she 
rose to her feet. Desperately, she darted for the aisle, away from the 
tangle of chairs and feet. 

"Seorita, sit down!" hissed Jose, grabbing her arm, and giving it a twist, 
wrenched her back down into her seat. "You will be sorry." 

Helga hid her head in her hands and sobbed, opening her blue orbs at a gasp 
rising from the audience. Separating her fingers, she stole a peek. A naked 
man ambled onto the stage. "Ohhhh," Helga sobbed, staring at the man's 
log-sized penis with a slit seeping with pre-coital juices dangling from the 
end. 

Lord, it could bludgeon her to death! Right there before her eyes, close 
enough to touch it, his purple-veined cock pulsed, gushing with blood, 
growing. It pointed at the audience, and with another gush of blood, pointed 
at the ceiling. 

The handsome young Mexican shot the audience a Cheshire grin, winked and 
stroked his penis with one meaty hand as he stood next to the bed and gazed 
down hungrily at the helpless young prisoner with her legs still spread 
wide. His heavily muscled back rippled with a thin coating of perspiration 
from the hot flood lights. Helga's eyes locked on the huge mushroom-headed 
cock and stared fixedly as he slowly stroked it to rock hardness, pulling 
the slippery foreskin back over the moist blue end until the tip flared out, 
scarlet red. 

Helga jumped with the next lash of the whip. "On your knees, bitch!" the 
female torturer commanded. Polly scrambled to her knees whimpering like a 
puppy, rubbing the fine welt on her leg, looking up into the black eyes of 
the naked man who'd just stepped into her line of vision. 

The sadistic woman watched with lecherous eyes as she rotated her pelvis at 
the crowd, bent her knees and ran a finger over the slit of her seeping 
vagina. Pumping her hips at pairs of gawking eyes, Rose rubbed her cuntal 
lips until they parted like rose petals, then stabbed one finger into the 
moistened slit, threw her head back in ecstasy and hissed, "Suck it, bitch. 
Suck his cock!" With an obscene sluicing sound, she rammed her finger up her 
pussy, giving it a few hammering strokes, then withdrew it and licked at the 
sticky-coated finger, her eyelashes fluttering over her cheeks. 

On the bed Polly quelled for an instant, cringing, eyes wide. Rose snarled 
and cracked the whip again, causing Polly to arch her back in an 
ear-piercing scream. Her breasts jutted out, nipples puckered, as the whip 
cut across her back. 

The naked man standing by the bed, twisted his lips cruelly and grabbed 
Polly by the hair so that she couldn't budge. The next crack of the whip 
drew blood to Polly's creamy flesh and her scream was cut off by a thick 
cock jamming into her mouth, nearly tearing her mouth at the corners. 
"Mmmmmffff!" she screamed around the hunk of meat in her mouth. 

The sinews of the Mexican's arms stood out like telephone cords as he 
grabbed her ears and held her curly hair cruelly entangled around his finger 
as he brutishly pumped his hips forward, ramming his throbbing cock deep 
into the poor prisoner's widely stretched mouth. 

Helga slumped in her seat, agonizing over her friend's brutal, 
mouth-splitting torture... and agonizing over the lack of anything in her 
own seeping pussy. Yes, despite her friend's humiliation and pain, her own 
itching vagina was moist with lust! 

Obviously, Helga was not alone in her secret passion, for the rest of the 
audience leaned forward for a close-up of the fellow prisoner's face as the 
blood-fed cock violated her soft, warm mouth. The shaft of hard male flesh 
was moving in and out of her tightly ovaled mouth like some great piston 
gradually being lubricated and glistening wet from saliva. 

Polly's eyes were swollen tight from humiliated tears and her pink stretched 
lips slid up and down the man's golden cock in a slow rhythm that matched 
the grinding of her slender hips. The man held her head in place, fingers 
wrapped in her brown curls and slowly, with sadistic pleasure, fucked her 
mouth. Then Polly opened her wild eyes and Helga nearly fainted! My God, 
Polly is enjoying this! 

Helga sat forward in her chair, truly fascinated, as Polly's little hands 
reached out and caressed the man's straining thighs and fluttered them over 
the hard muscles, snaking gradually up to the wiry patch of his loins to 
cradle and caress his cum-bloated balls with one hand while the fingers of 
the other hand tried to grip around the thick cock. Her tiny fingers didn't 
quite make it all the way around, so she squeezed hard, trying to make her 
index finger meet thumb in an obscene measurement of his virility. Her 
tongue twirled around the bloated head of his cock, licking at the slit like 
a mother cat cleaning her kittens. 

The room fell silent as a tomb while onlookers gazed with fascinated eyes 
and open mouths. Steam seemed to rise from the carpet in a cloud of passion 
as the rustling of evening gowns being pulled asunder and the occasional 
whine of a zipper announced the effects of Polly's ravishment on the Mexican 
prison guards. 

On stage, Rose knelt by the man's naked loins and Polly's head while she 
fucked herself in the pussy with the handle of her bullwhip in time to 
Polly's rhythmic sucking. Polly sucked on the man's bone hard flesh as if it 
were food for a starving man; muffled moans of ecstatic delight rumbled from 
her wide open mouth as her cheeks hollowed to create a vacuum. Helga didn't 
think she could watch any more, when Polly's fingernails dug into the 
tightly clenched flesh of his buttocks, goading her ravisher on... coaxing 
him to cum. 

As she sat completely engrossed in her cellmate's perverted pleasure on 
stage, Helga suddenly realized that she was breathing harder and her mouth 
felt very dry. As if reading her mind, Jose filled her Sangria glass from 
the pitcher and held it to her lips. Without thinking, she downed the 
liquid, attempting to cool some of the warmth the salacious images on stage 
was transmitting to her body. 

Completely fascinated, Helga stared at Polly who, under the hands of her 
ravisher, seemed to be going mad as she sucked madly on the man's cock. 
Helga squirmed her hips down on the cushion again, not caring if Jose 
observed her movements. She could feel the wetness spreading between her 
thighs and she wriggled to gain greater contact with the cushion. The warm 
fabric rubbed excitingly against her tiny rising pink clitoris through the 
material of her dress. 

With a sudden burst of shame, Helga stopped herself in mid-grind. How can I 
get excited by watching my friend being tortured? Still, she leaned back on 
the chaise, still careful not to break contact with the edge of the cushion 
pressed into the damp crevice between her fevered young thighs and found 
herself leaning into Jose's muscular arm. Too distraught to even think about 
what she was doing, she allowed herself to relax against it and again 
directed her attention to the figures on the stage. She barely noticed it 
when Jose's hand dropped down to the rising swell of her breast. 

On stage, Rose laughed cruelly and sprawled her half naked body lewdly 
beside Polly on the bed, her hand massaging her sizzling cunt, spreading the 
coral-red lips wide open as she looked hungrily at the young captive's 
welted back. Particularly attentive was she of Polly's perfectly rounded 
buttocks pumping and churning rhythmically as she sucked on the Mexican's 
bloated cock. 

The caped vixen grinned obscenely and reached out to caress Polly's sensuous 
ass-cheeks. This all looked too familiar to Helga who watched her young 
cellmate arch her back and thrust her buttocks out, widening a path to her 
puckered little anus. With a sadistic grunt, Rose spread the girl's 
ass-cheeks, exposing her swollen, wet pussy. 

Helga felt a moan growing in her own throat as two thumbs moved downward and 
slowly pulled apart the wet flesh of Polly's glistening pink pussy. Rose 
winked at the audience and licked her lips and, with a sudden movement, her 
head shot forward and her tongue curled right up into Polly's defenseless 
cuntal hole! 

The effect on Polly was nothing short of cataclysmic! She went wild, 
swallowing as much of the blue-veined cock as possible, sucking with a 
voracious appetite as her hips rolled and pumped against Rose's mouth. Rose 
slid further under Polly's churning buttocks, holding onto the girl's hips 
tightly while her tongue lashed and darted up into her seeping hole. 

Helga stiffened as she saw one outstretched finger probe for the elastic 
ring of Polly's tiny anus and finding it, plunging brutally and wildly 
inside the hot, buttery depths. 

The effect was all too real as Polly struggled to scream around the cock 
jammed in her mouth; her eyes were tightly shut against the pain of Rose's 
invading finger mercilessly rammed into her nether ring, twisting around. 
Deeper it went... up to the first knuckle... then the second, before sawing 
in and out to the rhythm of her red hot tongue fucking in the captive girl's 
clasping pussy. Rose's finger sunk clear to the palm of her hand as it 
fucked into Polly's rectum, matched now in brutality by the man's redoubled 
efforts to stuff all of his eleven inches past Polly's tonsils. 

Helga's rampaging heart seemed to thump in time to Polly's double fucking, 
and bolts of unwanted lust coursed through, thrilling her in an unholy 
manner. She was so wet down there between her legs, she was sure it had 
stained her dress! The shock of her response to her friend's rape brought 
Helga back to reality and only Jose's tight grasping of her now tingling 
breasts kept her from leaping to her feet and running from the room. Helga 
was witnessing a reenactment of her own rape back there on the grimy floor 
of the Laredo prison and all this was simply too much to accept at once. She 
wanted to get away, but that was unthinkable! 

A second glass of wine was held to her open, wet mouth by Jose, forcing past 
her panting lips, it shot down her throat and relaxed her body... but did 
nothing to ward off Jose's snaking fingers that had reached inside the 
bodice of her dress to cup the trembling, sensitive breast he had been 
fondling so intimately through her clothing. He trapped its already puckered 
nipple between his thumb and forefinger and she was amazed at how good it 
felt. Her nipples were already hard from the excitement. Just once, she 
thought, it would be thrilling to be treated like a whore without feeling 
any guilt. Just once would be enough... and that once was now! Helga 
struggled to maintain control of her breathing. Glassy-eyed, she gazed in 
abject fascination at the strange drama being enacted before her eyes. 

Then she became aware that her cruel escort had dropped his free hand down 
on her dimpled knee, slipping it upwards toward the fullness of her bare 
upper thigh. Startled by the unexpected contact, she tried to squirm away, 
but Jose's other arm clamped tightly around her shoulders and she could only 
slide her damp buttocks a short ways on the seat. Even in her distress, the 
friction of the cushion and the moist silk of her panties against her 
feverishly excited young cunt sent flashes of electrifying sensations up her 
spine. The lecherous military man was lifting the hem of her slithery tight 
dress, sliding his hand along the naked flesh of her inner thighs. Helga 
uttered a low, helpless groan of despair as his other hand gave a sudden, 
vicious pinch to one distended nipple, sending a shock of exquisite pleasure 
shooting through her body. Her eyes remained glued on the lascivious, 
unnatural activities taking place on the stage as she clenched her teeth 
together... fighting with all her remaining strength to control the 
unwanted, but high state of passionate arousal that was threatening to 
devour her. 

On stage, Rose pulled her finger and face free from Polly's violated little 
cunt and anus and sat up. A trickle of female juices trickled from her upper 
lip onto her chin and she wiped it off with her hand. Polly was beyond 
herself with lust now, her buttocks churning frantically trying to recapture 
the delicious tongue and wild finger in the wet centers of her passion. 
Obviously, new thrilling perverted delights were about to happen, for Rose 
pulled herself off the bed... one hunk of goosebumped aroused flesh. 

The audience followed Rose's gaze to the curtain behind which a second 
naked, and equally brown-skinned Mexican man appeared, coolly appraising the 
efforts of the curly headed gringa girl as her pale buttocks twitched 
lecherously for attention. Though slightly shorter than the first man, this 
one had a penis to match the one fucking into Polly's pretty little mouth. 

Face tight with passion, the second man crawled in behind the young American 
prisoner's alabaster buttocks. In one swift motion, he seized her nakedly 
grinding hips with strong dark hands and dug his fingers in hard to the soft 
white flesh, holding her cruelly in place. 

Before Helga's awe-widened eyes, her innocent cellmate, who earlier had all 
but gotten sick at the thought of having another female touch her body, now 
arched her back, thrusting her hips and buttocks, rotating her pelvis, 
squirming and spreading her legs further apart. The jewel of her reddened 
clitoris seemed to wink at him in invitation. 

With a viciously quick thrust, the man snapped his hips forward and slammed 
his aching cock into her seeping cunt hole with a loud smack. He fell into a 
fucking rhythmic beat, matching that of the purple veined cock ramming into 
Polly's stuffed mouth. 

Helga's forehead beaded with sweat and she felt wetness covering her hot 
young body from her armpits to the crying slit of her pussy. On stage, Polly 
was sweating profusely too... glistening droplets that ran over her 
cream-white breasts made them seem to glow as they swayed deliciously 
beneath her bucking torso as the two men pounded and slammed into her with a 
brutal, bed-rocking force that nearly made Helga dizzy. 

Poor Polly... she's being savagely raped and she's loving it. They must have 
drugged her! This can't be my cellmate Polly... it can't be!!! 

Rose crawled on hands and knees back onto the bed, whip in hand; the smug 
grin on her evil face was purely sadistic. For the first time in minutes she 
spoke: 

"Our prisoner is a prisoner only onto herself now... for she loves being 
whipped! Watch and realize what pain and pleasure is all about." 

People nearly crawled onto the stage to get a better look as Rose toyed with 
the whip while casting evil glances down at the threesome on the bed, with 
Polly sandwiched in between being fucked in the cunt and mouth so hard, 
Helga swore those cocks had to meet somewhere in the middle! Rose's fingers 
trailed down over her naked stomach, over the lacey garter belt and down to 
her cunt to spread wide the dewed petals, showing the glistening coral hue 
of her soft cuntal walls. 

The tip of one outstretched red-tipped finger played with her button-sized 
clitoris as she snapped the whip back. It hissed through the air like a 
striking snake, then cracked down around Polly's slender waist. The taste of 
the whip only drove Polly onto greater frenzy. She screwed her creamy 
buttocks up higher to take more of the dark bludgeoning cock slamming into 
her crying cunt from behind while gluttonously, her head bobbed, taking in 
another two inches of the penis before a regurgitating gagging slowed her 
enthusiasm. 

Again the whip whistled, slapping down on the sweaty writhing white body of 
the once innocent young prisoner. The two brown-skinned Mexican males, 
mindlessly lost to an ancient lust brought on by the sight of the conquered 
white slave, so helpless before them, fucked the squirming gringa girl with 
no mercy. They ravaged the subjugated white flesh until the audience could 
literally hear their hard pelvic bones slap wetly and brutally against poor 
Polly's button nose and her soft fleshy thighs, smashing them with loud 
smacking sounds that filled the room. 

The man fucking into her from behind, dug his dirty nails cruelly and 
tightly into the soft flesh of her white-mooned ass and fucked her until his 
dark balls slapped against the backs of her pale thighs. At her other 
ravished end, the man held Polly's head vise-like, by her hair, gripping so 
hard she couldn't move a single hair on her head without his approval. A 
muffled mewling, animal sound of passion gurgled from Polly's stuffed mouth 
even as she struggled to catch her breath. Polly was reduced to one 
quivering mass of aroused white flesh. 

With a roar, the man in front let out a snarl and thrashed his head from 
side to side, head thrown back, eyes shut, mouth open. He fucked upward with 
all his might, thrusting so deep into her constricted throat that Polly rose 
two full inches off the mattress. He was cumming, shooting his scalding 
Mexican cum down her white throat to bathe her tonsils in sticky ball-fluid. 
Polly sucked and swallowed frantically, but despite her efforts, dribbles of 
sperm trickled down her chin and out of the corners of her impossibly 
stretched mouth. 

Helga gasped as the man pulled his wildly jerking penis free from Polly's 
mouth that lingered in a desperate pucker, struggling to hold onto the hot 
dark pole of tantalizing brown flesh. He held her pale face in place as his 
whole body shuddered and tensed a second time. "Aaaaaaaaagghhhhaaaa!!!" he 
roared. His eyes closed tightly as his second load of hot, Mexican cum 
splattered all over Polly's sweet little white face, pouring into her 
dimples and bubbling right up her straining nostrils. Some ran into her ears 
and some soaked into her lashes and eyebrows. 

Helga's jaw fell slack as the tender young girl, no longer innocent, 
struggled frantically to catch some of the shooting sperm, licking her lips 
and swallowing whatever she could, crying out in mindless lust for him to 
poke his cock back into her hungering mouth-hole. 

Seconds later, the man charging into her from behind, bellowed out his 
triumph and, his face twisting, he pulled his blood-fed penis free of her 
fucked-open red cunt at the last minute, and Helga shuddered as a thick 
stream of white hot sperm shot out across Polly's welted back, 
criss-crossing the crimson whip marks. The sticky, yellow-white streams 
glistened in the flood lights like so much puss from an infected wound. 

And then it was over. The two men let go of Polly's slumped over white body, 
left bruised, welted and covered with an obscene layer of their sticky 
sperm. Helga had never seen anything so pathetic as her friend lying up 
there, pale and naked, splayed out for all to see in the shameful aftermath 
of her lust. Would Polly burst into tears? 

Rose answered that question for her. Viciously, she yanked Polly by her 
curls and held up the girl's baby white face for all to see. "Did you enjoy 
that? Tell your fellow prisoners if I hurt you, or if you enjoyed it." 

The look on Polly's still sweet, innocent white face was a ghostly 
apparition, the dark side of her lost innocence. "Yes!" Polly hissed through 
clenched teeth. Her eyes were half swollen from her earlier crying, almost 
sealed shut with the yellow coatings of sperm, and she smiled lewdly, 
licking the cum around her mouth. "I loved it! Oh, God, I loved it!" 

Rose let the gringa's head drop like a bag of discarded garbage... and the 
lights went out, followed by a swoosh of the closing curtain. Gone was the 
musky scent of lingering sex... and gone forever was Polly's wide-eyed 
innocence. 



CHAPTER EIGHT 

The hot musky scent of lust multiplied to dizzying degrees in the 
still-smoldering heat of the theatre, as probing brown fingers and snaking 
tongues slithered toward captive white faces with ovaled red mouths and 
helplessly moist pink vaginas... heralding stage one of The General's Annual 
Military Ball. 

Jose Emanuel's human decency shed with his uniform, he clawed bear-like at 
Helga's pale white body like it was honey in the hive, ripping the single 
strap from her shoulder to expose the strawberry-red nipple topping the 
creamy mound of white flesh on her left breast. In the foray, the marble 
topped table crashed over and Sangria splattered everywhere, red as a 
virgin's spilt blood. 

"No! I'm not going to be made into your whore!" Helga spat, aghast at how 
her American gringa sisters were trading their souls for the cheapness of 
sex. 

Jose's lip curled with lust and he took a flying leap to nail her to the 
floor. 

"Eeeeeiiikkkk!" Helga snatched up a discarded spike heel shoe and wielding 
it over head, crashed it down over Jose's skull, stopping him in mid-leap. 
He crashed to the floor in a pool of sticky blood. One more scream made no 
difference... Jose's cry mingled and was lost in a chorus of grunts and 
squeals as captors and captives threw themselves into an S & M party that 
would have made Marquis de Sade blush with shame. 

The tangled mingle of dark brown skin topping the contrasting white arms and 
legs resembled more of a Pissarro victory than a general's military ball. 
Only one victim escaped... 

Helga clamped the dress hem in a clenched fist and ran on polished tip-toes 
for the door, jumping over naked bodies littering her path. Half way through 
the door a brutal hand clamped over her arm and then a second one... less 
gentle than the first... dumped her over his shoulder like a sack of 
potatoes and dragged her kicking white body back to the dormitory where her 
weary, sob-wracked frame was dumped on top of the bed. The door locked shut 
behind her. 

Helga wasted no time in making her decision; "I've got to get out of here! 
Oh God, they'll torture us until we die!" Images of Polly's sex-raptured 
face flitted through Helga's Sangria sodden brain, straining out fear and 
reprisal... and dwelling on those inevitabilities. 

Her hands dug at the bedclothes, tearing off the coverlet and the two sheets 
and roping them together, she tied them securely and fastened one end to the 
iron bedpost. Trembling, quivering fingers threw open the window and hiking 
her gold dress up around her waist, she held it in a wad and did a Tarzan 
swing through the open window. 

She dangled there like a shimmering Christmas tree ornament, her toes 
gracing the windowsill of the first floor. Daring herself to take the last 
leap, she sucked in her breath, heart pounding in her temples, and kicked 
off the windowsill and was about to drop to the ground for the dart across 
the wall when the yap of hungry dogs stopped her short. 

Instinct told her to hang on... well, too, for a brace of Doberman 
Pinschers, mangy and starved, fangs dripping with saliva, leapt into the air 
to snap at the deliciously slender pale ankles dangling in front of their 
noses like so much raw meat. 

It was some minutes later that she was rescued by an older guard, who reined 
in the dogs. 

"Come weeth me, Seorita," growled a toothless little Mexican man with a 
leathery face. "The General he weell be pleesed. Nobody runs away from the 
Mansion." His flashlight beam slinked slowly over her white flesh for a 
time, first up the open slit of her evening gown, between the ample white 
flesh of her thighs, then resting on the flapped down bodice where her fat, 
creamy breast with its strawberry nipple dangled freely, before he finally 
helped her down. 

She held her torn strap up to draw the curtain on her creamy flesh and 
followed him meekly back to the dormitory, a whimpering, frightened girl. 
What will they do to me now? 



* * * * * 



"What does the General propose we do with thees Gringa? She ees as spirited 
as a wild horse," Manuel said apologetically, shrugging his shoulders and 
spreading his hands, knowing that his chosen prisoner's failures to please 
the General and his highest officials put a big black X on his record. Ohhh, 
stupeed mee... why deedn't I send Karen she would gladly open her pink 
asshole for a goat... but no, I go for the really beautiful ones! 

Major Jose Emanuel sat in an overstuffed chair, nursing his drink and 
holding a bag of ice on the two inch gash Helga put in his skull. "Seorita 
Helga must be taught a real lesson like all these American Gringas," 
muttered the shamed Major, whose machismo had been deeply wounded by his 
failure to seduce the gorgeous tall Gringa with the big white breasts and 
spun golden hair. To have predetermined the General's choice of women from 
the seventy-eight held at the Monterrey Mansion would have been quite a 
distinction... better still, to have broken her in first. 

Burning to heal the wounds inflicted by his prisoner's fiery temper, Manuel 
offered a quick suggestion. "General, shall I fetch the Seorita for you 
now?" To embarrass the General's highest officials was the same as putting 
the General to shame... and indirectly, Manuel had done just that. He 
quivered inside, fearful of the General's explosive temper. 

The General scraped contemplatively with his thumb nail at a dried speck of 
hot sauce that had dribbled over a few medals to soil his scarlet ribbon. He 
chewed on his cigar as he made his decision. "No, I think not. The best 
punishment is the unexpected. Use her in the show tomorrow night... but with 
no hypnosis!" The General licked his beefy lips and snickered lewdly. 

"Tomorrow the Seorita will know far more sorrow than is her share." 

Manuel shuddered. Eef she does not please the General, she weell die! He 
crossed himself over the chest and hastened to refill Major Emanuel's empty 
scotch glass. 

The General stroked the few hairs remaining on his balding scalp. "Tonight I 
will be on the stage... to personally welcome our Miss Helga to the 
Mansion..." he said with a lewd smirk that hinted at cruelty. 

CHAPTER NINE 



They didn't come to her with whips and chains and rip off her clothes and 
drag her out to be ravished and raped... as Helga expected. They treated her 
with queenly indulgence, giving her time to think and drink and watch the 
closed circuit television set. 

On the screen she watched a close-up of a burly naked Mexican man sitting on 
a lounge. His erection was of obscene proportions-somewhere in between 
King-Kong and Paul Bunyan. A young blonde girl, tall and willowy, who 
reminded Helga of herself, was kneeling subserviently between his dark brown 
thighs and holding the ebony shaft of his hard cock with her delicate white 
fingers. 

Her pink tongue lashed out hungrily and curled around the swelling mushroom 
head of the man's dark penis. Her luscious wet lips played slippery tricks, 
sliding and sucking the slitted tip of the lust- thickened penis. The girl's 
salacious teasing was obviously having its effect on the man... he grabbed 
her head brutally with both hands and, at the same time, savagely thrust 
this thick shaft of hard male flesh deep... well past her tonsils. 

Oh, so that's the trick! They're going to show me dirty movies to get me 
excited. They don't know how stubborn a Norwegian girl can be... she 
snickered, pouring herself a drink and settling down in the over-stuffed 
chair. What she failed to realize is that resistance is the first stage of 
submission. With a fatalistic masochism, she poured herself a drink from the 
bottle of whiskey they'd left for her. Whiskey... porno flicks... what do 
they think I am? In a way, she wished they would drug her. 

Time dragged on, and out of boredom, she took a sip of the whiskey. After 
the second one, it didn't burn as badly and she settled down in the chair 
and watched as the faceless girl on the screen closed her wet lips around 
the man's lust swollen cock, fully aware that this was calculated to play 
upon her basest instincts... her masochistic tendencies... to ready their 
victim for tonight's on-stage slaughter. 

To pass the time she tried to sleep, but couldn't. There were no magazines 
to read... nothing to do but watch the screen. 

When the bottle reached the halfway mark, everything started taking effect 
simultaneously. Gradually, the whip's crackling and hissing, sluicing down 
over tender white flesh, disappeared from the eye of her memory and a 
flutter of unwanted sensuality teased through her veins. The cries of 
rapture bubbling from Polly's mouth-stuffed well with Mexican 
man-cock-shouted out above the helpless screams of pain and her 
well-anesthetized brain lingered on this vision as she stared at the young 
gringa girl on the screen. 

Helga turned away from the screen and looking in a wall mirror, saw her 
stunning good looks and her wildly voluptuous figure that swelled out from 
the sheer robe she wore. Slightly drunk, she reached up to cup a breast, 
weighing it before her reflection and grinned. She had never touched herself 
like this, but it felt good... damnably good! If others were to look at her 
naked white body, squirming helplessly beneath a mass of overpowering male 
muscle, it was her privilege to peek first. Nervously, she poured herself a 
stiff drink-at least three fingers of amber liquor-and chugged it down. 

With tantalizing slowness, she stood looking in the crystal mirror, taking 
in her own figure, turning this way and that, appraising herself 
objectively... as would her live audience. Hers was an incredible figure... 
tall, yet fully developed with curves in the right places. And her full, 
creamy breasts... why had she never noticed before how big and pink her 
nipples were? She drank and turned again to the television screen. 

The blonde girl was naked now, sitting in the chair. Now the dark man was 
kneeling in front of her and had forced the innocent looking young thing to 
put her legs up over the arms of the chair. Her knees were hooked over the 
arms of the chair and her full firm white thighs were split wide open. 
Apparently this was to be the opposite side of fellatio, for the man roughly 
spread the girls eagerly trembling pale legs wider still, forcing her to 
shove her glistening pink cunt forward to the edge of the chair. The brown 
man grinned lewdly and slowly spread the wetly throbbing lips of the girl's 
pussy before burying his dark face into the pink wet hole of her sex. 

Despite her captive plight, and despite her sworn resistance, stage two of 
submission crept to centerfront. Helga fought the temptation to touch 
herself... for a minute... until her free hand brushed accidentally over her 
stomach and pubic mound, sending goosebumps prickling over her satin flesh. 
Lust crept through her craven white flesh and nerves like slow, warm 
syrup... if she kept watching the screen, she would become insanely excited. 
That would make their torture easier... from a physical standpoint. But what 
about her morals? 

She forced herself to ignore the screen and concentrate on her imprisonment. 
Much to her chagrin she realized they were one and the same: If she were 
back home in North Dakota the idea of going before a live audience naked, 
would be repulsive. Here she was a prisoner... free of guilt, free of moral 
bonds. All that seemed too heady a thought and her blue eyes returned to the 
television screen where the girl's head was flailing back and forth with an 
abandoned passion as her slender hips churned and ground wildly upward 
against the man's slithering tongue darting, licking and stabbing deep into 
her writhing pussy. Helga moaned... just once... a sound of hunger and 
despair. She had cum that way once... 

By the time the guards knocked on the door, she was ready... giddy with 
drink and half-naked. Lewdly, she sprawled in the chair, one tanned leg 
swung over the arm, her thin dress pulled up over her knees, giving the 
guards an eye-opening shot at the sopping crotchband of her panties. Her 
blonde hair was disheveled and swept over one blue eye. She grinned impishly 
up at the two Mexican guards who had come to fetch her. 

"Hellllo..." 

She winked at the shorter one, her eyes rolling drunkenly in her head. Her 
loins were hungrily throbbing, achingly teasing her. For six hours she had 
been alone, thinking of the events of the past few days... Maria's hot 
tongue, Jose's handsome profile, and Polly's cries of ecstasy under the 
whip. 

The two guards smiled nefariously at her as they helped her out of the 
chair. They grinned at one another and said something in Spanish as she 
wobbled to her feet, eyeing them with a wicked smile. 

"Seorita... take off your dress so we can get you ready. The General ees 
anxious," he commanded in halting English. 

They leered at her with insinuated smiles and politely waited for her to 
strip down. The young woman felt a certain kind of depravity in stripping on 
command before these two guards who could easily beat her bloody for 
disobeying their command. She had to strip, didn't she? Dizzily, she slipped 
the cotton dress off over her head and stood looking at the men 
submissively, her huge creamy breasts, heavy and as well-rounded as melons, 
proudly thrust out. 

Slowly, taking her time and driving both men wild with lust, she cupped them 
and squeezed them. Helga smirked, seeing how the taller man clenched his 
fists and how his slightly smaller friend ground his teeth together in 
frustration. She discovered facets of her soul and emotions she had never 
dreamed she possessed... and teasing these men was only the frosting. 
Letting the tip of her velvety tongue wetly lick her pouting lips, she 
thrust her hips and pelvis insolently forward. Helga stood with her hands on 
her flaring hips, naked except for her flimsy bikini panties. 

She captivated them with her insolence... jutting her hips obscenely forward 
and rolling the material of her panties down. She peeled down the skin-tight 
gossamer panties slowly, the red tip of her tongue sticking out of her 
mouth, her big beautiful doll-like blue eyes impudent. 

Turning she faced the men again, brazenly taking her time, defying all her 
principles. Her eyes caught the taller man's hand and how he barely resisted 
the temptation to rip her panties from her voluptuously tanned body. "Hurry 
up, Seorita! The General can not be kept waiting!" 

"Fuck him..." she said, liking the way the word rolled off her tongue-a word 
never used by her before. 

"You will, Seorita, you will," The taller man flicked his wrist to check 
the time, then stepped forward with an irritating snicker. Helga pulled her 
panties down and let them flutter to the floor. 

Hands were all over her, dressing her in a silk robe of rich red with black 
embroidery: the silken feel cooled her senses... for a moment, and then she 
flushed with rampant shame and embarrassment as they led her down the 
hallway to the darkened stage. One of the guards pointed to the bed, 
instructed her to go towards it, and then the lights flooded on. 

CHAPTER TEN 

The curtains swooshed open onto two bronzed men standing naked on stage. A 
noise, a ripple of electrical current ran through the audience and whispers 
filtered through the crowd up on to the stage. The General and his recently 
favored officer from Nuevo Laredo paraded back and forth on the stage, 
showing off their well-equipped masculinity in a rare show of exhibitionism. 
For those who had attended these annual events in the past, the message was 
clear. The General was about to mete out punishment to one of his prisoners. 
Would he mutilate her? Or would he merely beat her to within an inch of her 
life? 

No one knew who the unfortunate victim was... until the spotlight shone on 
the center stage, its beams bouncing off the smooth metal iron bedframe 
still spattered with speckles of Polly's blood. A noise, a groan of empathy 
rose from the crowd as an innocent looking young woman with shimmering 
blonde hair, actually white under the lights, sat on the bed. Clearly, she 
was nervous. 

What had such a beautiful young thing done to infuriate the General? She was 
gorgeous, pure looking as the first daisy of spring. 

Dizzily, Helga stood up, her body completely covered from the neck down to 
her toes in the silk robe. She smiled vacantly, drunkenly, her wetly parted 
lips laxly open as she stared off absentmindedly with glazed eyes as if 
concentrated on a thought... a remembrance. 

Lieutenants and Colonels leaned over their tables for a closer look at his 
virginal blonde Gringa... before they closed in on her. She seemed too well 
bred, too beautiful to fall prey to The General's nasty temperament. A 
collective hushhhh rolled like London fog from the audience as the naked 
General advanced, his heavy feet thumping on the stage floor like an angry 
rabbit and his heavy cum-swollen balls swaying like half-inflated water 
balloons between the muscular thews of his heavy brown thighs. Manuel, 
always one step behind The General, followed, waiting for his cue. 

As she turned to the side, the audience got a provocative peek at her body 
beneath. A gasp of awe rose from the crowd at the satiny flesh beneath, 
though they could not see the goosebumps of terror prickling over her naked 
skin as the bullish looking General, flanked by his lewdly grinning 
handle-bar mustached underling, stepped to her side. 

Squeezing out a scalding tear, the horrified prisoner sucked in her breath 
as four hands fell upon her, ripping the silken gown from her naked white 
body, tearing it to shreds. The General snarled, wadded it up into a red 
ball, tossed it to the corner and stood glaring at his prisoner, his beady 
lecherous black eyes boring over the naked flesh which to him had been a 
mere apparition on a television screen... taunting him with her wide-eyed 
beauty, mocking his authority by defying his rules. Now she would pay for 
that humiliation! 

Intuition preempted inhibition, and Helga, sensing the sadistic lust 
flanking her naked body on both sides, remembered Manuel's evil threat. Oh, 
God, help me... but I have to please him! Hastily, her icy fingers crept 
down and tentatively felt for the half-bloated stem of The General's bulbous 
brown cock, dangling lewdly there in front of his dark hairy balls. 
Tentatively, she gave it a squeeze while her turquoise eyes squeezed out a 
tear. Slowly, she slipped his dark foreskin back, leaving the tip of his 
mushroom-shaped head naked and shiny-wet. It didn't feel cold and slimy as 
she thought it would, so when Manuel muttered a threatening note, Helga 
reached out and grabbed his penis, too. 

Some of the weaker stomached men in the audience turned their heads, waiting 
for the screams, the chains and whips to come out... waiting to see this 
poor young white thing down on all fours with whip marks slashed over her 
gringa body. The General had been known for sticking strange objects into 
American prisoner's pink vaginas... bottles, dildos the size of a fence 
post... and there was that time with the snake? What was he waiting for? 

A half sigh, half groan ran through the audience and several couples began 
unsnapping pants and unzipping dresses, as they stared at the blonde on 
stage whose hands were slowly and rhythmically pleasing the General. Greedy 
eyes took in her voluptuous Scandinavian beauty... the proud melonous 
breasts with puffy pink nipples pointing upwards. Her rib cage and waist 
were slender and her hips full and womanly, moving as if they were made of 
warm liquid and promising fluid action. Her thighs were firm and full as a 
mythical Viking goddess and her shimmering blonde hair accentuated her tan 
lusciously. 

The total impression was one of unmistakable angelic innocence and pleasure, 
untapped sensuality and ripe curiosity. Her stomach was flat and firm, and 
her pubic mound jutted out as if offering its treasures below to the first 
explorer. Hot, half-closed eyes concentrated on her pink pussy, on her two 
softly pouting coral cuntal lips velvety as a baby kitten. 

Manuel ground his teeth, his pulse racing out of control at the sight of 
this nakedly voluptuous Gringa squeezing his brown cock. 

"Seorita, you had better please the General, or there won't be enough left 
of you to even send back across the border," he said in a deceptively 
charming voice. 

The General said nothing; he muttered something in Spanish and bending his 
knees a little, ground his hips in time to Helga's pumping fist. A single 
drop of pre-coital fluid dribbled from the tip of his cock and Helga gave 
his dark penis a tug and wiped the wetness on her naked thigh. The General 
groaned limply. 

Self-preservation her motto, she obeyed when the General opened one puffy 
eyelid and glaring at her, commanded her to play with her cunt. 

Immediately, Helga let go of the rigid stalk of male flesh on her right and, 
brushing her blonde hair from her blue eyes, she jutted her smooth hips out 
at the audience, giving them a peek at her pink pussy. Encouraged by the 
audience's hushed groan, she smiled lewdly as her free hand slid down over 
her belly and her fingers played in the forest of her golden pubic curls. 
The spotlights blinded her, hiding from her the audience's appreciative 
glares. 

Changes she didn't understand were coming over her. Instead of fighting with 
all her strength to separate herself from the debasing humiliation of these 
lewd movements, she turned into a groaning mass of passion. She played over 
her wet cuntal lips like they were piano keys. Remembering how the masked 
girl had struck a tempting pose, Helga spread her feet wide apart and thrust 
out her hips; she clenched her dimpled buttocks tightly together, creating a 
shadowy indentation in her ass-cheeks. Her fingers unconsciously spread the 
swollen pink lips of her cunt apart, opening it like a fish's mouth. And all 
the while she played with the General's cock, squeezing and pumping, rubbing 
his pre-cum onto her thighs in glistening threads of lust. 

"Squeeze it, gringa bitch! Squeeze it!" he muttered, reaching down to guide 
her hand to the tender spot underneath his cock where the vein gushed with 
hot blood, bloating his cock another inch. 

A gasp rose from the crowd and some of the more blood-thirsty military men 
were getting impatient. Where were the whips? 

A snarl of cruel contempt curled Manuel's upper lip. Protocol in this 
situation was a delicate matter, indeed. Of course the General would have 
first crack at the blonde gringa bitch... but when? Disgruntled, the Nuevo 
Laredo narcotics officer squinted through the flooding spot lights at his 
superior who stood purring like a pussy cat as his prisoner played with his 
cock... not bellowing and charging as he should. Holy Virgin Mother... the 
Gringa has heem under a spell... the General hee is notheeng fierce. Manuel 
took the offensive: 

"Seorita, there are two of us here..." With that he seized her free wrists, 
wrenching it away from her pink wet pussy lips and he spun her around, 
tearing her other hand from the General's genitals. The big man seemed 
confused for a moment, then fell into the action. 

Four rough hands fell upon Helga's lightly tanned body, grabbing at her, 
forcing her down on all fours like a groveling animal. To keep her balance, 
she spread her legs wide, exposing her pale buttocks and the hair-lined 
split of her sweet little wet pussy. They fell on her at once, each seizing 
a creamy cheek of her ass and spreading it aside like so much white bread 
dough exposing the puckered little pinkish-brown button of her anus. 

The audience murmured their appreciation and here and there a chanted "Fuck 
the Seorita!" rose like a war flag. Some yelled for blood. The girl was, 
after all, merely an American gringa, a prisoner... and a defiant one at 
that. No mercy should be shown a Gringa who had accepted the General's 
hospitality but refused the proper show of appreciation for Mexican cock! 
Amongst this begrudging lot was Jose Emanuel who sat at a back corner 
sipping wine and taking pain pills for his pounding head. 

"Take it easy, Manuel. I want this to take a long time. The gringa bitch is 
gonna suffer..." 

The abused prisoner was suddenly freed and she whirled around, frightened by 
their sudden pouncing attack. Drunkenly, she started to scamper off stage on 
all fours. They dragged her back by the hair and dumped her naked body 
directly under the spot light for all to see. 

"Squeeze our cocks!" bellowed the General, growing impatient with the 
American's impudence. Automatically, Helga's little hands wrapped themselves 
around the loggish cocks, this time pulling the brown skin all the way back 
until the pair of mushroomed heads turned brilliant purple. They returned 
her gentle caresses with brutally, savage ones, pinching her pink, puffy 
nipples and gouging at her soft glowing flesh. Their hard hands got wilder 
and ran over her naked flesh, pulling and pinching and bruising her tender 
flesh as if trying to skin a fish. 

Helga fell into a trance. Her eyelids fluttered and a pleased, dazed grin 
parted her wet lips as she stroked their iron-hard cocks with both hands 
while their dark fingers ran torturous paths over her slim rib cage, down 
over her naked belly, to probe in the jewel of her belly button... and 
straight down to the furry blonde thatch between her lithe legs. Oh, Gawd, 
when are they going to shove it in me? 

Pliant as a rag doll, she bent one knee and lifted the leg slightly, her 
weight on her bare toes, giving the men a wide open crack to her dripping 
pussy. She grimaced half with pain, half with anticipated pleasure as the 
General's thick forefinger forced its way up into her wetly throbbing cunt 
and began to saw in and out of the lust dampened hole as if trying to cut 
her in half. His finger dripped with lubrication, thick and creamy as sour 
cream on an enchilada. 

It should have pained Helga... she should have died of mortification... she 
should have been nauseated by these torturous foreign brown fingers probing 
her tender flesh... but she felt only delicious pleasure. 

Everyone in the room fell silent... some with confusion. Why was the General 
pleasing a prisoner he would normally destroy? 

The audience sucked in their breath in one long hiss as Helga jutted her 
pale hips forward and let them pump in time to the fingers sawing in and out 
of her seeping vagina. Her hands were still squeezing the two brown cocks 
and stroking them rhythmically as if letting go of them would mean death. 

Manuel saw his chance! Grabbing her long blonde hair from behind, he pulled 
her head back, nearly snapping her spine. His moustache bearded her mouth 
like a giant cunt and he locked it there in a long wet kiss. Their hot 
tongues sparred, licking at each other as his big hands pawed at her naked 
breasts, leaving red streaks where his fingernails scraped her white flesh 
and raising blood in its path. 

The room seemed to grow ten degrees hotter, humid, too, from the steam of 
lust rising from the stage. Everyone pressed closer to the stage to witness 
the ravishment of this innocent angel turned devil. Low animal moans rippled 
from the crowd and more than one delicate hand reached inside of unzipped 
pants to draw out a hard length of dark male flesh, comparing it to the 
one-eyed monster dangling between the General's legs. Nipples, like so many 
winking eyes, peeked out from gown bodices. 

A thud sounded as Helga fell to the stage floor, a mass of quivering satiny 
white flesh. The finger was yanked from her sucking hole far up between her 
gorgeous legs as the General forced his prisoner down to her knees. 

Actually, to force Helga was silly. Willingly, slowly, tantalizingly, she 
knelt on the floor between the two dark men, her blonde-white hair cascading 
from her head like a satin pillow. Still stroking their bludgeoning brown 
cocks, she gazed with hungry eyes at the General's erect, brutally 
steel-hard penis waggling in front of her face. 

Please... them... I must please them... Three weeks ago, no man could have 
tempted her to do what she did now with relish! With an expression of 
lustful bliss, Helga pulled the General's pulsating cock down to her half 
open mouth and let her tongue flick out and lick at its hugely swollen head. 
Nobody needed whips to coax her into it. She did it not for love, but for 
simple fear and unwanted lust. 

Opening her pouty lips wide, she slowly guided the hot shaft of dark male 
flesh into her greedy mouth as if it were her first food in days. Her full 
lips closed down around the blunted head and her cheeks hollowed and 
expanded in a lewd sucking motion. The General's long pulsating brown cock 
glistened with her saliva and shone in the overhead spotlight as the big man 
fucked brutally in and out of her mouth. With a lewd snarl, his hands 
reached down to tangle in her long platinum locks and hold her head steady 
as he began to jolt her with the force of his strokes. 

Manuel, meanwhile, contented himself with caressing her nakedly quivering 
white breasts as she sucked baby-like on the General's raging penis. The 
entertainment room was thick now with heady smoke and the musky scent of 
couples' rising passions. 

On stage, Helga reluctantly pulled the General's lust-bloated penis from her 
mouth. She wanted to, but she couldn't suck two at once, could she? Her lips 
clung to the shiny flesh, her tongue licking its vein-heavy underside before 
she snapped her head around and opened her mouth wide to Manuel's long 
thickness. Her free hand groped behind her until she found the saliva-cum 
sticky length of the General's penis. She fondled its hot length as her 
mouth slid back and forth like an oil rig over the narcotic officer's male 
flesh with ecstatic intensity. 

The two men were beside themselves with lust. To beat her would only break 
the spell and they crowded around her nakedly kneeling body, their hands 
roughly digging into her tender gringa flesh, massaging, caressing, 
pinching, poking. They seemed determined to touch every millimeter of her 
naked flesh, to leave their marks everywhere they could. As a final insult, 
they forced her to spread her mouth wide enough to allow both of their 
stabbing cocks into her mouth at once. 

And the prisoner was loving it! Like a caged animal, she was irresponsible, 
reacting only out of self-preservation. Purging... strangely purging. 

They held her head tilted back, holding her brutally in place by her long 
blonde hair as they stood side by side, fucking into her beautiful white 
face, punching at her. The audience went wild, but they knew better than to 
approach the stage... or the General's acid rancor would sour on them. 

Her head was pinned back and her mouth wedged open grotesquely as both 
loggish brown penises crammed into her hot oral cavern. Wildly, insanely, 
she sucked at both of them, her hands reaching out to cup their big 
brown-skinned buttocks and pull them closer into her. Her hardened pink 
nipples rubbed against the wiry hair of their dark thighs, thrilling her to 
the bone with masochistic joy. Women gringa prisoners panted with disbelief 
and Mexican men gaped with open mouths at the sight of this voluptuous 
blonde haired gringa angel sinking to the true depths of depravity. 

The white girl lay sprawled obscenely on the stage, her legs opening onto 
the lustful picture of her blonde, hair-fringed pussy with its glistening, 
dewed pink petals. A sexual heat was gripping everyone. 

The General gritted his teeth in animal lust and Manuel's face showed the 
sadistic thrill of punishing this young Gringa for her insubordination. The 
General started to crawl up and down on his knees. and reaching under the 
nearby bed, he grabbed a bottle, unscrewed it and tipped the bottle above 
Helga's pale breasts, splashing her with oil. The big oily blobs dribbled 
over Helga's magnificent white breasts, poo1ing on her milky cleavage. 

Grinning, he watched as Helga lewdly used her hands to smear the glistening 
oil all over her stomach while Manuel got into the action by rubbing it all 
along her curving thighs and buttocks. He devoted considerable attention to 
the deep, shadowy crevice between her ass-cheeks, his mustache twitching 
lewdly with anticipation. 

Helga Anderson was lost in a private narcissistic world as she caressed 
herself, massaging in the oil. She tucked her chin in and bent her head as 
both hands tried hard to hold one slippery mound in place while her tongue 
licked at the nipple. 

Helga was lost in a world of pure fantasy... none of this is real, she kept 
telling herself. Only the feeling is real.. only the feeling is real... for 
to think would be her undoing... her damning! 

CHAPTER ELEVEN 

Why wasn't she screaming, writhing in agony? She was too beautiful, too 
stunning to be some kind of perverted kook. Yet, she was acting like a real 
slut. 

Helga's oiled white body glistened in the flood lights while The General and 
Manuel punished her with poking fingers and prying hands as they stuck their 
fingers up into her pussy... sometimes both at once, and fucked her hard, 
jabbing into her tender pussy flesh. Helga wriggled on the floor like some 
belly dancer gone mad with lust. The men's hands didn't miss an inch of her 
young body as they stroked over her oiled flesh. It was a wild pagan scene 
unmatched by the deepest of jungle tribes; only feathers and war paint was 
missing. 

The men's muscle-rippling brown bodies were sweating profusely under the hot 
lights. Finally The General got a firm grip on his gringa prisoner's 
slippery waist and crouched over and he said in a voice that could kill: 
"I'm going to fuck you now, Seorita!" 

The crowd roared, returning a barrage of obscenities. 

The vulgar language only spurned Helga on to greater heights of degraded 
passion. Her ripe young oiled gringa body trembled and she spread her legs 
wider still, returning his threats with an open invitation to do just that. 
Helga shuddered with an unholy desire. 

The General's two hundred and five pounds of firm, well-used muscle pushed 
down on top of her, slipping and sliding off, crushing her voluptuous white 
breasts. His throbbing brown cock still jerking from the delicious sucking 
she had given him, he positioned it between her hips like a freshly cut tree 
stump. Men and women crouched low around the slightly upraised stage to get 
a better look at the fucking. The General's men had heard stories about 
their superior's virility, and now he was showing them for the first time 
those stories were completely true. How could she possible take all that? 

Everyone sucked in his breath as The General's purple-mushroom headed penis 
slipped easily into the girl's well lubricated, highly aroused cunt and 
shoved with an obscene, wet, slushing sound that smacked of sadism. They 
sighed in relief as her pink cuntal opening spread wide and her 
golden-hair-fringed pussy lips clutched involuntarily around the thick brown 
shaft as it sank out of sight like a sinking ship into her tautly rippling 
belly. Ahhh! She did it! 

This is what they had been waiting for! 

Couples, unwilling, but never-the-less highly-stimulated gringa prisoners, 
together with their Mexican prison-guard captors, snuggled together like 
lovers. The men boldly slid down the American girl's panties to their knees, 
forcing the subjugated young females to reach delicate white fingers into 
gaping zipper holes to fondle thickening brown cocks as they watched the 
defilement of the blonde Gringa. 

The General and his prisoner began to move in savage harmony against each 
other. The General's bulging biceps rippled as he held the slippery naked 
white girl beneath him and fucked in and out of her wetly clasping pink cunt 
with a brutal force. His dark balls slapped wetly against her oiled white 
buttocks and Helga's tight little pink pussy, ravaged-but-fulfilled, rolled 
inward with each of his vicious, stabbing thrusts. Each time he pulled out 
to the blackened tip of his lust swollen cock head, the girl's delicate, 
coral cuntal lips clung to the dark thick shaft like a rubber glove 
reluctantly pulled from a surgeon's hand. 

The General fought to hold onto her slippery white body while the hands of a 
dozen military men reached out to grab a pale white leg, a cream-white 
breast, or a delicate tuft of pubic curls of their respective gringa 
partners. 

And meanwhile... Helga was fucking the Mexican General back to save her 
life! Her hips gyrated and pumped as if on ball bearings and she bucked and 
undulated with a total disregard for her dignity or chaste, Christian 
upbringing. Who was fucking who was only a guess. Her mouth gaped open like 
a beached fish and deep animal moans of pure wanton pleasure rumbled from 
her throat as her head thrashed from side to side, whipping her blonde hair 
about her sweating red face. When she did open her eyes, they were glassed 
over and a distant, unfocused, uncaring look lingered there. 

The heat in the room was stifling and uniforms and dresses were shed like 
leaves in autumn. Their faces streamed with sweat, and their eyes narrowed 
to slits as they watched the most unbelievable fucking they had witnessed at 
The General's infamous Annual Military Balls. An orgy was but a few strokes 
away. 

"Roll over now, Seorita!" It was Manuel, impatient for revenge. 

Helga, lost in her wild lust, her slim waist bucking as her plump, pale hips 
rolled and humped up to take all of The General's hard brown cock, didn't 
even hear him. 

"General I have an idea. Roll the Seorita over." 

They managed to roll her over, while The General continued punching into her 
tender pink cunt as if trying to bludgeon her to death. They rolled 
completely over until Helga was fully on top of his hirsute body. It was a 
relief having his heavy weight off of her, for she could breathe more easily 
now and she did just that, taking a few deep lungfuls and resting for a 
moment, concentrating on the hotly throbbing cock buried deep in her velvety 
cunt. Then she leaned down, taking some of the weight with her arms and 
allowing the red nipples of her oiled, ripely swaying white breasts to brush 
back and forth over his dark, hairy chest. 

The General looked into the face of his broken and helplessly lost American 
prisoner and smirked lecherously. He ground his teeth with frenzied lust. 

Helga deliberately pleasured him by clenching and unclenching her brutalized 
cuntal muscles, submissively squeezing his conquering brown cock, milking it 
to give her captor added enjoyment as he abused her oily passage. Then 
slowly, she tightened her meaty white buttocks and rocked back and forth 
over him, wringing groans from his rumbling chest. 

The audience stared fixedly at the gringa prisoner's oil-glistening white 
buttocks only a scant reach away, shining like two pale full moons in May. 

Suddenly all eyes were on the narcotics officer from Nuevo Laredo now 
crouching by the writhing couple, a cruel, depraved look in his dark moody 
eyes as he held in his pumping hand his angrily throbbing neglected black 
cock. Would the General's underling be so audacious as to preempt The 
General's fucking of this luscious Gringa? Everyone waited to see. 

One panting red-haired female prisoner in the audience, half naked in the 
darkness with a Lieutenant lewdly fondling her quivering white-freckled 
breasts, moaned; "Ohhh, no!" She was the first to realize Manuel's 
intentions. 

Helga was slowly spreading her oil-sheened thighs wider until she had to 
bend her knees to ward off cramps. She paused, a moment of depraved ecstasy 
as she exposed her nakedly rounded white buttocks to a room full of 
strangers. Murmurs-low, lewd, intent- were heard around the room, most in 
Spanish. "Look at that... look at that juicy pink cunt! The little white 
whore! She looks like she's ready to explode!" 

Helga was. All eyes were glued to Helga's naked ass-cheeks as they slowly 
spread apart, revealing the tightly puckered entrance to her anus buried 
deeply and snugly in the fleshy crevice between her cream-white ass-cheeks. 
Her alabaster buttocks undulated and rolled tantalizingly as they moved up 
and down, pumping over The General's pole-like brown cock, now covered with 
slippery sheen of cunt-oil and buried deep up in Helga's gorgeous Anglo 
belly. Everyone could see how his lust-thickened hardness spread the parting 
lips of her little pink pussy so wide they almost folded back on themselves, 
reveling inside the coral-pink softness of her naked pussy. 

The hapless farmer's daughter from North Dakota, completely subjugated by 
now to her Mexican captor's dominance, deliberately used her cuntal muscles 
to grip more of his brown cock. Her knees slithered slowly forward until 
they hugged the General's hairy armpits and her plump and quivering white 
ass cheeks rode high in the air, her buttoned pink anus winking invitingly 
at Manuel as she ground her cunt fiercely down on the stalk growing from the 
black hairy forest of The General's loins. 

Manuel fell to his knees on all fours, slipping between the hairy widespread 
legs of his superior and the sleek paler ones of his prisoner until he was 
crouched over her upturned, oiled white ass. 

Helga's sweat-soaked young body moved as if run on batteries; her full mouth 
hung open lewdly, her eyes were glazed with lust. It wasn't until she felt 
the hotly probing head of Manuel's cock pressing forcefully against her 
tender anus that she became aware that his threat was only one stroke away 
from reality. 

Faces, wan with disbelief and anticipation, watched mesmerically, stunned by 
the audacity of the officer from Laredo. How would The General respond to 
this man sharing his pleasure? 

Everyone sucked in his breath as Manuel held his thick jerking dark cock in 
one hand, guiding it to where it nudged against Helga's tightly clenched 
little pink anus. Helga's eyes sprang open as if on springs when she 
realized what was about to happen! She froze in her obscene humping 
position, too frightened to move away now for fear of displeasing The 
General who was grunting underneath her, reaching up to pinch at her 
puckered red nipples. She panicked. Her blonde head snapped around and her 
wide blue eyes starred blankly at the dark figures hovering up close to the 
stage. She tried to move but both men held her securely in place, their hard 
hands slipping slowly over her glistening white flesh. "Nooooooooooo! Ooooh! 
Oh! Nooooooooo!" It was a long lost wail that bubbled in her throat. The 
look in her fearful blue eyes was desperate. She was helpless... a poor 
American prisoner sandwiched in between two lustful, vengeful Mexican men 
and there was nothing she could do about it but hope to God they didn't kill 
her! 

The silence in the suddenly-stilled room frightened her even more. The crowd 
watched, silently fondling and pawing at each other as Manuel used the thumb 
of his hand to spread her pale slippery ass cheeks apart. 

The crowd's eyes fell on Helga who quivered with dread as Manuel's brown 
hands brutally wedged open her tightly clenched white buttocks, drawing them 
apart like a steaming Parker House roll. Tears suddenly rolled from her wide 
blue eyes and wet her blushing cheeks. The crowd hissed a gasp of 
anticipation as the Nuevo Laredo officer used his knobby brown middle finger 
to tease at her tiny rectal opening. 

Every young American woman there knew it could just as easily be her up 
there being ravished and ripples of empathy charged through the female part 
of the audience... ineffectual though it was. 

Sharply, Manuel rammed his oil-coated finger into her puckered anal hole, 
driving it to the first knobby knuckle joint. The plump round muscles of 
Helga's meaty white buttocks clenched automatically and her anal passage 
gripped defensively at his invading brown finger like a tiny, clenching 
fist. The pain was reflected in her twisted, tormented face and a low hoarse 
moan came from deep in her milky, bosomy chest. 

"Pllllleeeez, noooo!" 

Oh, Gawd, he wasn't kidding! He s really going to do it to me there... he's 
going to put it in my rectum! I'll die... I know I'll die! 

Manuel's face was a study of sadism. As if in answer to her panic, he reamed 
and sawed in and out of the warm buttery depths of her rectum, ramming a 
second finger into her, causing the poor young American prisoner to groan 
dreadfully, her pretty, refined Anglo features twisted in pain and 
incredulity. Carelessly, he finger-fucked her like a madman, obscenely 
stretching the white girl's velvety nether passage in preparation for bigger 
things to follow. And that bigger thing was throbbing, dripping with pre-cum 
right now! 

Helga closed her eyes and tried to be still, concentrating, trying not to 
think, only wishing this were over with. She could imagine seeing her 
ravaged, bleeding white body left on the stage once Manuel had finished with 
her. A woman couldn't live through such torture, could she? 

Helga crouched on her stomach on top of the groaning General, her thighs 
spread wide, her knees tucked under. She was defenseless, impaled on the 
General's long hard brown cock that was throbbing like another heart deep in 
her cunt and she felt Manuel's thick worming fingers stabbing through her 
rectum. Tears scalded in her eyes and she found herself sobbing, like a 
baby, begging for mercy. 

It did no good. Rather, her pleading and crying seemed only to make the 
situation worse. In the audience, relishing the ravishment of this luscious 
blonde prisoner, Major Jose Emanuel smirked and nibbled at the butt end of 
his cigar. Slowly, his fingers reached toward his forehead and traced the 
outline of the bandage covering his gash. The little gringa bitch deserves 
it! he thought sadistically. "Fuck her in the ass!" he screamed, standing up 
and breaking his own rules by causing a stir. He bellowed it again, this 
time waving his clenched fist in the air like a battle cry. 

Manuel pulled his fingers from Helga's tight little anal button with a 
moist, sucking sound that reminded one of a champagne cork exploding. He 
aimed the lust bloated head of his aching brown cock directly at that 
cringing puckered hole and flexed his hips. 

Again, with difficulty, his hands slipping in the smooth oil, he spread the 
squirming young woman's milky, meaty buttocks wide with his fingers, then 
slowly pressed the huge blackened head of his angrily pulsating penis 
directly at the cringing little mouth of her most secret part. 

All eyes fell on Helga's pain-contorted face, saw her blue eyes gape as the 
brutally stiffened cock suddenly popped like a cock through her tightly 
resisting sphincter muscle. 

"AAAGGGHHHAAA!!! GAAAWWWD!!!" 

Every eye turned to her nakedly upraised buttocks as she froze, screaming. 
Every eye watched the grotesquely stretched hole give more, spreading, 
slipping like a tight glove over the probing tip of his thick, rampaging 
cock. Manuel grinned in triumph and thrust his hips heavily downward, 
burying half of the hardened fleshy pole into the soft velvety channel with 
one vicious thrust of his powerful hips. 

Her groans choked back into her throat as, automatically, Helga fought for 
freedom from this agonizing assault, but her every move only served to 
impale her deeper because with each jerk and twist of her tortured body, 
Manuel's massive penis sunk that much deeper into her futilely resisting 
anal hole. Beneath her, the General grunted and rammed his penis into 
Helga's cunt until his cock smashed into her tender cervix, doing his 
sadistic best to pin her in place. 

The room fell quiet as Manuel leaned over the defenselessly upthrust pale 
buttocks and fucked his bloated penis through the last remaining 
resistance... going deep up into her tight little rectum, right up to his 
sperm-bloated black balls. 

They fell into a maniacal fury of fucking the blonde prisoner, buffeting her 
creamy body between them as if she were a sack of beans. 

"AAAAGGGHAAA!" 

The scream sluiced through the air, piercing the ears of every onlooker. 
Some of the more empathetic female prisoners in the crowd rose to their 
feet, wanting to help their sister in despair, but there was no stopping the 
sadistic men... and the threat of reprisal made them sink quickly back to 
their seats, only to feel the brown hands and dark fingers of their own 
Mexican partners lewdly invading their pink passages and fondling their 
milky breasts. 

"OHHHH GOD!" Helga screamed piteously as she felt Manuel's hotly throbbing 
cock fucking deep up into her cunt from below, joining the other thick 
skewering penis stuck so deep in her rectum. She whimpered like a hurt 
puppy, both in the throb of pain and humiliation, sandwiched like a white 
whore between the hulkish Mexican men who treated her like the lowest common 
prostitute who'd ever walked the streets of Mexico. 

Only that thin blood-fed membrane separated Manuel's plunging cock from the 
General's thundering one. Helga felt everything intensely as if looking 
through a magnifying glass. In and out they thrust in unison, pumping into 
her, punching into her hot belly and anus at the same time. 

The scene in the hot darkened theatre was close to riotous. Couples were 
stripping naked. In the back, unseen by most, a muscular Mexican man 
sprawled naked in his seat while a young American prisoner crouched 
submissively between his dark legs and sucked his brown-skinned virility 
while he watched the blonde Gringa being fucked half to death on stage. 
Another American girl somewhere in the back hung over the edge of the chair, 
her alabaster buttocks waving in the air while her guard guided his thick 
fingers toward the hairy split of her pink cunt and played there. He held 
her by the hips as he slowly began fucking in and out of her seeping pussy, 
but his eyes were irrevocably focused on Helga on the stage, in the brightly 
lighted spot with the two sex-crazed officers. 

Both Manuel and the General fell into a smooth rhythmic cadence that pounded 
the oil glistening body between them like the fists of an angry child 
punching a rag doll. Streams of cum-male and female spurt out onto the 
velvet covered chaises, drying in lewd puddles. More than one dress zipper 
was broken in a mad attempt to get the garment off and high-heeled shoes 
littered the floor like crumpled newspapers in a gutter. The sound of wet 
brown cocks ramming into wide-stretched pink genital openings like high 
powered drills slapped over the room and people sprawled on the floor as 
they watched the pink frayed edges of Helga's pussy flesh pulling out with 
the General's penis on the outstroke and disappeared back inside her cunt as 
he plunged again deep into her quivering little belly. But it was Manuel's 
thick cock pulling out of her backside, drawing the tight ridges of her 
tightly clenched anus with it, then wetly ramming back up into her until his 
cum-filled balls were wedged hard up into her softly yielding white 
buttocks, that everyone watched. 

Something unexplainable happened to Helga. Perhaps it was the savage reality 
of being brutally fucked by two Mexican men at the same time that opened up 
the masochistic bent in her. 

Couples stopped fucking and sucking to watch this miraculous transformation. 
A strange look came over the naked female prisoner's face and a low ecstatic 
moan trembled from her lips. Involuntarily, her oil gleaming buttocks began 
to undulate and from the pleased expressions on the men's faces, she 
obviously was clenching fist-like with her cuntal and anal muscles, milking 
them. 

"Jesus Christ!" a man's heavily accented voice whispered. "She likes it!" 
These and other obscenities intensified the wild sensations charging through 
her belly. Winces of pain on her sweat-streaked young face were being 
replaced by rapturous moans. "Oh Gawd. Fuck it, fuck it... plleezz!" she 
grunted thickly to each thrust that bored into her anus and cunt. Indeed, 
the lurid words coming from one so innocent-looking and beautiful were 
doubly arousing. Everyone-including her fellow inmates-wanted to see this 
elegant white girl humiliated. 

That included Jose Emanuel who, in the back of the room, zipped open his 
pants and drew out his aching cock. The gringa beetch theenks she is feelled 
now... huh? He charged to his feet, shedding his clothes as he went toward 
the stage. The room was going wild! Jose had to fight his way through the 
crowd of voyeurs cramped around the stage trying to get a better look at 
this incredible white woman. Hungry brown hands reached out to touch her oil 
slicked body, letting their hands dance over her pale breasts, her stomach, 
her navel... wherever they could touch her. 

"Ahhhh! God, yes! I can feel your cocks fucking me! Splitting me open! Hurt 
meeee! Fuck me! FFFUUUCCCKKK MEEEE!" she coaxed them on. 

They worked in unison, sweating and pounding into her body numbed to pain 
and open to pleasure. 

Jose shoved aside a Lieutenant and jumped up on stage, his pants down to his 
knees, one shoe off. With a snarl, he ripped off the rest of his clothes and 
dropped to the side of Helga's thrashing head. He watched as the General 
fucked in and out of her cunt in a sadistic, punishing way and Manuel pumped 
his hips, slapping up against Helga's rectum. Helga was battered and jerked 
and pummeled and twitched about, her blonde head flying back and forth until 
her screams turned to moans and her mons to groans and, finally, to wild 
animal sounds of sheer delight as her body found the rhythm and she began 
moving in unison with their two men, building her lust and desire. 

"That's it! Fuck the beetch!" Jose screamed in a queer falsetto as he yanked 
at his rock hard cock. He caught hold of Helga's thrashing head and held it 
viselike between his strong hands and, with his thumbs forced her parched 
lips open. Brutally, he guided his cock toward her lips and shoved the full 
nine inches into her mouth for her to suck on. 

This was the final lewd thrill, the ultimate humiliation and debasement: 
Sucking the blood-bloated cock of her guard while the man who had arrested 
her and the one who determined whether she lived or died fucked into her 
brutally! 

Jose began jerking his hips back and forth as Manuel and the General fucked 
and bucked, and Helga let her body ripple and undulate while she ovaled her 
lips and licked submissively at Jose's dripping penis, tasting the 
bittersweetness of his arousal. She sucked like a new vacuum cleaner, 
drawing the sperm from his testicles that beat against her chin, and she 
closed her glassy eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering over her cheekbones, 
flushed from her shameful arousal. She sucked hard as they beat into her 
from all directions. 

The current created between the four pummeling bodies completed its circuit, 
and Jose was the first to scream his release. His body stiffened while he 
gritted his teeth and shot white-hot sperm into her mouth, bulging and 
hollowing her cheeks as she gulped and swallowed and sucked for more, her 
tongue twirling around the slitted end madly. When it deflated like a stuck 
balloon, she contented herself by licking the spattered cum from his hairy 
brown testicles. 

The General was the next to cum, exploding his thick cum into her cunt with 
a wild roar that threatened to bring the roof down. Helga felt the tempo 
increase, and she was up in the heavens counting stars as her own searing 
sweet orgasm blinded her for a moment. She felt as though her insides were 
coming out when it hit and she let out a wild cry. 

"Fuck meeee! Fuck my assss! Hurt meeee!" 

Manuel was quick to comply. White hot pain coursed through the prisoner's 
rectum and mingled with her orgasm, making it wilder, sweeter, more intense 
and prolonged. It seemed as though she were falling through space, through 
an endless void of pleasure and pain as she saw Manuel's moustache twitch 
and heard his guttural animal yell. His cock swelled against the walls of 
her tender, ravished rectum and then began to pump hot oily cum into her, 
filling her up until it dribbled down between her tanned thighs. 

A roar sounded in the room as everyone watched the blonde haired prisoner 
collapse and lose consciousness. Most unbelievable, Helga Anderson was still 
alive... 



CHAPTER TWELVE 



The price of freedom wore a heave price tag... a bill measured in human 
flesh and utter humiliation... 

"How nice to see you, Seorita," the General greeted with a salacious smirk 
as his two guards escorted Helga, freshly bathed and dressed to his liking 
in a short, simple cotton robe with a tie belt. The chair squeaked as he 
reached forward and undid the knot, letting the robe slip from her naked 
body. "Get to your knees..." 

Helga quivered nakedly, shame and fear boiling in her blood. God, he was 
reducing her to a simple whore. "Mr. General... I... I..." she stammered, 
tremblingly. 

The General lost patience with her hesitation. "On your knees white whore! 
You seem to forget who I am. I own you, Seorita. I can kill you like that!" 
He snapped his fingers and grinned lopsidedly, nodding to his guards, they 
watched as victoriously, the tall blonde Gringa dropped submissively to her 
knees in supplication before him, her nose grazing past the heavy erection 
jutting from the wiry patch of his loins. He pumped his brown-skinned penis 
before her gaping blue eyes until a tiny pearl of pre-cum, no bigger than a 
tear, dribbled lewdly from the tip to pool on her pouting lips. 

"Nooooo..." whimpered Helga, fraught with self-pity. "Oh God!" 

The General entangled his brown fingers in her soft blonde hair and wrenched 
her head back, pressing his thumb under the soft tissue of her chin and 
wedging his pudgy index finger into her mouth. Helga let out a moan of pain 
and compliantly let her jaw relax. "Mmmmph!" He shoved his lust bloated cock 
between her swollen lips and sawed in and out. 

"Suck, you little white bitch! Suck, you filthy white whore! From now on..." 
he grunted, flexing his hips so hard his cum-filled balls slapped against 
her dimpled chin. "...you will be my personal sex-mistress. When I want to 
fuck you in the ass, you will do so..." 

"Mmmmffff... oh, noooo! But I'm not a whore...!" She whined and rocked on 
her haunches from his next punishing cock-stroke. 

With Helga, already broken by this powerful man, reluctance was only a 
temporary condition. Knowing she could not resist him in any way, she began 
to pay him homage with her lips and tongue. Down on her knees, flooded with 
disgrace and shame, she kissed and licked at the tiny slit of his seeping 
penis to save her life and told herself she was letting him pinch and knead 
her tender white breasts for the same reason. Then, with his hot cum bulging 
out her cheeks and slithering down her hungry throat, she reached up to milk 
his hairy testicles and give them loving, caressing strokes. I've got to 
please him or he'll kill me... she told herself, ignoring his urging as he 
struggled to free his deflated cock from her still-nibbling mouth. Finally, 
he coaxed her to let go and with only a simple motion of his hand urging her 
over on her belly, she flipped submissively over on her stomach and raised 
her plump, pale buttocks in the air, reaching back with both hands to peel 
apart and separate the moist creamy clefts of her ass cheeks. 

"Fuck me, my General..." she mewled. "Fuck me in the ass, my General. Make 
me cum!" Her cunt was a raging inferno of frustrated lust! 

After several months, life became a never-ending nightmare of loveless lust, 
and blind obedience to her heartless captor, who relished humiliating his 
American slave. Helga became his sexual robot, his mechanical toy to wind up 
and abuse at his lustful whims... 

She awoke one morning, studied her reflection in the mirror and read the 
signs of despair. To be stuck in the mountains with a madman acting out his 
sexual fantasies was worse than death. 

Her father's wheat fields in North Dakota, raising their ripe heads to the 
August sun, rippling in tan seas as far as the eye could see... were they 
memories from a past life? 

Loneliness fell in on her and in a desperate moment, she made herself sick 
by drinking three glasses of tap water, despite the strict health hazards 
warning printed in English above the sink. 

They sent her to the Monterey hospital with a gut-wrenching case of amoebic 
poisoning. 

In the hospital a particularly handsome young American doctor in residency 
took pity on her and helped smuggle her across the border... for a steep 
price. 

The peso didn't buy much in those inflated times... even if she had them... 
so Helga Anderson paid him the way she knew best, with her young, nubile 
body. 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN 

Helga's pouty red lips clamped over the end of her Bic pen and she chewed 
unconsciously. The sophomore anthropology major sat in the darkened 
classroom, lit only the slides on the giant screen. Dr. Harris, a 
pre-Columbian art history professor, stood at the podium, staunch in her 
low-heeled pumps and Victorian bun. 

"...Here we have an example of the tomb treasures of the Incas. These gold 
cups were hammered from a single piece of gold. If you look closely, you'll 
see no seams. When Pizarro returned to Spain, taking the pillaged treasures 
with him, they melted down the gold and..." 

Helga cupped a yawn and tried to concentrate, knowing these facts would be 
thrown back at her in the final exam next week. She sighed, her shoulders 
heaving. What did Dr. Harris know about Mexico, really? What was important 
about a lost civilization and dwelling on useless objects and dead facts 
that had no relevancy to Helga's life and times? Helga rested her head in an 
upturned palm and studied her professor, the typical Ivory tower academic 
who lived in an unreal world of ideas and facts. I'll bet she's never been 
to bed with a man in her life. Expert on Mexico...? huh! Helga smirked. I 
could tell her a few things about Mexico... a few facts and figures she'd 
never forget! 


 THE END
