Little Janie Horner
by Ian Johns
(GC-326)


They told Jane to get out from under the table and allowed her to put the 
robe on. Mark stood and offered her a chair, and she sat down with them. At 
a signal, breakfast was served, and they all chatted. Jane was the center of 
the conversation, and each man told her how pleased he was with her.... 

Jane was happy, happier than she had been in a long, long time. People were 
talking to her, treating her like a human being, making her feel wanted. And 
she was out of that awful room! When Mark offered to take her for a stroll 
through the estate, she jumped up and took his arm with enthusiasm. 

"What do you think?" Dr. Gorman asked as he and Guzman watched Jane and Mark 
walk through the gardens hand in hand. 

"Excellent!" his employer replied. "Truly excellent! How long will it hold?" 

"Oh, it could be permanent, if we had the proper time to finish the task. 
She may go into another regressive state, but we can even handle that, with 
time." 

"Can she take an orgy?" 


INTRODUCTION 

Little Janie Horner By Leonard A. Lowag, Ph.D. 

Man, that heterogeneous and esoteric creature differs from the other members 
of the animal kingdom in one primary way: he denies his natural being-his 
habits, his instincts and desires, his bodily functions, his thoughts and 
images. The more fortunate animals revel in the nature which was given them; 
to them it is all pleasure and all contentment, their prime achievement in 
life, their purpose for being. Not so with man. He takes his basic structure 
and proceeds to cover it with all manner of taboo, to inject it with 
superstition and fear, to hamper it with trappings of man-made glory and 
hypocrisy, to deny it the innate right to self pleasure and enjoyment 
through a thousand different rules. Born king of the animal realm, man has 
reduced himself to the least of his species. Why? 

We turn to some of the sanctuaries with which he has found it necessary to 
surround himself. Among these we find the following: religion, dope, liquor, 
sex, money, war-in fact, anything which may act as a deterrent to reality, 
from realization of his true identity, from acceptance of truth. He is 
constantly in flight from what he knows to be his true status. Throughout 
life he flees from one bad state to another until he ends his miserable 
existence by giving up his life in this sphere. Why? 

Basically man is ashamed of himself. He is ashamed that his body is so 
structured that he must eliminate his food in a manner which he feels is 
unclean. He is ashamed that his passions rise at an early age and he feels 
desire for the opposite sex. He is ashamed that he comes into this world 
from the cunnus of a woman, suckles at her breast and then returns to this 
curious being as a slave throughout his life. He is ashamed that his body 
reeks of unclean odors and is dirty. He is ashamed that his offspring are 
begot through passion and sex. He is ashamed that he will soon be dead and 
bearotting, lifeless nothing. He is ashamed that no matter how great his 
aspirations, he is limited by his span of life. So what does man do? He 
seeks to hide this fear and shame through mystical ritual, through words 
that no human being, including himself comprehends; through potions which 
place between himself and truth a layer of pretense, a covering beneath 
which he may revel without fear, for he is protected from reality. For these 
reasons man attends ceremonies and rites, drinks alcohol, takes dope of 
varying kinds, strives toward great wealth, kills his neighbor through war, 
and seeks annihilation because he cannot face truth. 

Little Janie Horner is a story of a cross section of our society. It is not 
good; neither is it bad. It is truth. One reads with horror, with nausea, 
with fear. One is conditioned to escape. One is ashamed of himself. This 
story concerns the two extremes of our escapism: religion and debauchery-the 
two opposite ends of the spectrum, they are nontheless related in many ways. 
In primitive times, they were coalescent and interchangeable, but gradually, 
civilization has forced them apart. 

In days of old, the gods demanded sacrifices; sacrifices of passion, of 
greed, of lust, of destruction, of murder. One paid these tokens because he 
was afraid to do otherwise. Then he felt vindicated. He had sacrificed. 
There were (and still are, remotely) times when man cooked and ate one of 
his kind so that the gods would be pleased. The representative of the gods 
took man's virgin daughters to sate his lust and man bowed his head in 
reverence. Young blood was spilled onto the ground to show humility and love 
and adoration for the unknown diety. Wars were fought in the name of Heaven; 
men were bumed in the holy fires to vindicate the sins of the earth; the 
bodies of the innocent and the unknowing were trampled into the ground-their 
blood has stained this earth since the world began. Man, the insane animal, 
the fearful animal, the animal who might have so much and yet who has so 
little. Man who spends his days with his head in a box, with his soul caged, 
with his eyes blinded, his ears closed, who has encased his being in a 
cocoon of fear and distrust and shame. 

Who will dare to read this book? It is shocking. It is raw and crude. It 
will fill you with revulsion and terror. But it is filled with part of the 
truth from which you seek to escape. It is your chance to face a portion of 
reality. To admit the awful reality of your shame, without which man could 
know simple joy and live out his few brief years in peace. He could cast off 
fear of the known, albeit man's unconscious being will always fear the 
unknown-that which he knows not, which lies just beyond the threshold of 
knowledge; that of which he is aware and yet unaware, a feeling to haunt his 
being throughout his fife. 

Little Janie Horner is not a pretty story, but it is set in a portion of the 
world whose beauty defies description; high in the mountains of Mexico in a 
little township called Cuemavaca, the capital of Morelos. Cortes captured 
this city from the Indians many years ago and built a palace which was at 
one time the home of Emperor Maximilian. Mexico itself is a mecca of beauty, 
a great rolling tableland bordered on each side by mountain ranges parallel 
to the coasts. From these heights the land descends in terraces which 
terminate in the coastal plains. The mountains which border the plateaus are 
perpetually snow-covered and the many torrential streams find their way to 
the sea through deep and precipitous troughs with beautiful cascades and 
waterfalls. Because of its geographical location on both sides of the Tropic 
of Cancer and its wide range of elevation, Mexico enjoys a variety of 
climate seldom equaled in other parts of the world. The land abounds in 
small lakes and is beset with lush tropical flora and fauna; the Spanish 
cedar, the cassia, palms of many species, the chicle tree; one may find wild 
figs, coffee, vanilla, oranges, bananas, mango, the papaw. Birds famed for 
their brillant plumage and wonderful variety cover the land. The population 
is composed of what is known as mestizos, those persons who are partly white 
and partly Indian, living in a culture composed of two social classes, the 
upper class enjoying wealth, power and comparative leisure, and the lower 
class, the Indian peons, who live in bondage and, generally great poverty. 
Mexico has developed a strongly individualistic culture as a result of the 
blending of Indian and Spanish traditions, and their architecture, 
literature, painting, music and handicrafts follow a strongly nationalistic 
trend. 

Into this world of beauty and simplicity came lust and greed. Came those 
seeking a covering for their shame. Came those who had been the victims of 
their own conscience. Came Senor Guzman, one of the upper class who lived in 
luxury and splendor. Who lived in perverted degradation. This is the story 
of Jane Horner, that deluded virgin of the gods who traveled to the opposite 
end of the spectrum and strangely enough, after her experiences of odious 
horror, emerged a person of understanding and tranquility. Jane was filled 
with the vibrance of life; compassionate and gentle, yet daring. She dared 
to defy the gods that be and speak for an outraged world. Jane was an 
innocent child who had never tasted of life. She had only read of things and 
feelings and places. But she had courage to fly in the face of destiny. 
Beautiful, youthful Jane Horner headed the temperence league against 
marijuana. She fought with all of her being to right what she believed to be 
a wrong. And then she came face to face with reality. Those controlling 
forces in the underworld transplanted her to a new and different life, one 
of raw and base emotions, one in which cruelty exceeded kindness, one in 
which the individual is reduced to his most primitive being. Janie learned 
of life and its emotions through association with those who never bothered 
with the rules of living. Overnight she was transformed from one who walks 
the holy path to an inhabitant of the lowest den of iniquity. Her delicate 
sense of propriety is shattered as she is conditioned through the most 
sadistic of orgies to join the ranks of vice. This is a strange and 
beguiling story, one which will race your blood and tease you out of 
thought, but it is not one you will soon forget, nor the import of its 
message. 

Little Janie Horner is a book about marijuana, that strange and enigmatic 
weed about which much and nothing is known. This is a story of those who 
oppose marijuana and those who control it. Much has been written of 
marijuana, obtained from the innocent cannabis sativa plant, but the effects 
of which may range from extreme elation to profound melancholy. Marijuana is 
not technically narcotic, being referred to as an hallucinogen, but it is 
treated as a narcotic by the law. This drug has been eaten and smoked in the 
far east under the name of hashish for centuries. The effects produced are 
much the same as those obtained from alcohol. Part of the reason for the 
spread of marijuana can be found in its relative cheapness as well as in the 
fact that it seems to have no permanent effect on the body and abstinence 
produces no withdrawal symptoms. The primary argument against marijuana is 
its creation of a faulty time sense and loss of judgment. Health officials 
in Washington estimate that twenty million Americans may have smoked it at 
least once and that anywhere from 300,000 to 4.5 million persons smoke it 
regularly (Newsweek, 7/24/67). It is generally conceded that marijuana 
attacks the central nervous system; coordination is very much altered, 
distance is distorted. The individual appears to lose his inhibitions in 
varying degrees. Dr. Donald B. Louria, associate porfessor of the Medical 
College at Cornell University and President of the New York State Council on 
Drug Addiction, recently wrote: 

"The arguments for legalization of marijuana are based on pure hedonism. Its 
proponents want the right to use the drug because it gives them pleasure. 
Faced with the data on the potential dangers of its unrestricted use, they 
rely on the argument that marijuana is no more dangerous than alcohol. But 
the major criterion for legalization of any drug should not be a comparison 
with the dangers of alcohol but rather the inherent dangers in the drug's 
indiscriminate use. Otherwise, there would be a proliferation of drugs 
dispensed merely for pleasure, and if each of these carried no more risks 
than presented by alcohol-and by cigarettes-the number of persons damaged 
would inevitably increase strikingly." 

And so the argument goes. It must be remembered that during prohibition the 
temperence groups received both encouragement and heavy financial support 
from gangsters who were making substantial fortunes from the sale of illegal 
liquor. As a matter-of-fact, it is estimated that the various criminal 
organization spent in excess of twenty-five million dollars to fight repeal 
of the Volstead Act. In certain dry areas of the United States today, 
criminal groups financially back political candidates only after they have 
received promises that the area will remain dry once the candidate is 
elected. Thus it is that the "devil" always helps the "saints" to insure his 
own profits. Little Janie Horner focuses our attention on this very same 
activity in the highly controversial world of marijuana trade. The author 
gives a candid view of the battle to keep marijuana illegal and profitable 
for the "organization." By bringing such activities out into the open, we as 
a society may be better able to control these disrupting forces. This book 
will unoubtedly serve its purpose, to shock the public out of its apathetic 
state and force them to recognize the cunning plots which appear so noble, 
yet tear into the very fibers of our society. 

Despite its exaggerated erotic content, the book is well written and the 
young author shows much literary promise. One is granted a graphic 
description of the characters. With infinite horror, he sees the crippled, 
crab-like Paco, that sadistic devotee of the flesh, whose lust for the 
ravishing of the gentry knows no bounds. His twisted mind matches that of 
his twisted body as he lies in wait behind the mirrored door for his 
opportunity to strike. Senor Guzman, one sees resuscitated from the printed 
page, as he dominates his fanatical set-up, a misguided genius, a modern 
Satan who will stop at nothing to achieve his objective. Dr. Gorman, the 
psychiatrist, who has taken Krafft-Ebing's teachings too literally. Mark 
Wilson, a disillusioned anti-hero who is caught in the web of human 
escapism. Consuela, the beautiful Spanish girl, who has become a willing 
slave in this perverted world. If the reader has often masochistically 
longed to look behind the veil which separates the supposedly good from the 
presumed bad; if he unconsciously desires to see the extent of the 
perversion, the depth of the sordid world which changes men into monsters 
and destroys the soul, then his eyes will be opened as he devours each and 
every page, filled with the indescribable world of the lust-driven, of the 
hungry homosexual, of those who thirst after all that is bizarre and 
squalid. Come to Cuemavaca to the lair of Senor Guzman. Come to the game 
room where virgins are deflowered and morality is a word out of the 
dictionary; where men's destinies are planned and destruction is a part of 
the architecture. The story I shall leave for your discovery. It is one of 
strange and unusual happenings, of truth and lies, of forces which often 
carry us to destruction and of those which seldom rescue us from our fate. 
Suffice it to say that this is the tale of a young girl who had devoted her 
life to reformation who is captured and brought into a world of lust and 
greed, and how this being survived and triumphed over this shocking 
experience. 

As I read Little Janie Horner, I was reminded of a little story I once heard 
in the Otomi village of Huixquilucan, Mexico. It concerns a long-existing 
feud between two of its barrios because of the saints of their respective 
churches. The story goes that in the church of the barrio of San Juan stands 
a little Virgin de la Candelaria. She wears a long simple pink dress, a 
white veil, and a crown. Her adornments are several strings of colored beads 
around the neck and silver earrings like those worn by the native women. In 
one hand is a doll infant and in the other a bouquet of paper flowers tied 
with a ribbon. Within the church of the barrio of San Martin is a small 
man-sized image of St. Martin on horseback. He is elegantly dressed in a 
chamois riding suit with a bullet belt and pistol, silver spurs, a cloth 
cape, and a handsomely embroidered charro sombrero. The people of the barrio 
adore him. Every year they give him a splendid new hat and a new suit. But 
they feel that even with his fine clothes he must be lonely, so they have 
invented a little love affair for him. It is common gossip that every night, 
St. Martin rides over to the church of San Juan, and while his horse remains 
outside, he visits with the little Virgin. The people of the barrio of San 
Juan also love their little Virgin and resent any aspersions against her 
reputation. They indignantly deny that their Virgin would receive a man in 
the night, even though he were a saint. Consequently, on Tuesday, el octavo 
del carnaval, the last event, late in the afternoon, is the battle between 
the two barrios, with friends of each side helping and the rest of the 
inhabitants looking on. By that time spirits are high on both sides from the 
pulque made in the village, and results are often so serious that the 
village police are generally on hand. The combatants are requested to put up 
barriers of boards about thrity feet high, leaving a short space between the 
barriers. Both sides use as missiles various kinds of firecrackers, bad 
eggs, egg shells filled with paint, and in the end, sticks and stones. 
During the battle, someone will come to the barrier and dance a doll on a 
stick to ridicule the Virgin. Then those of San Juan become infuriated and 
retaliate by holding up a male doll on a little mule, yelling, "Here's your 
San Martin." Both dolls are blown to pieces with fireworks. The insults 
become offensive and spicy and the battle goes on for hours until the 
authorities force both sides to retire. It is never known which side wins 
because both claim victory. But there are always some wounded, and sometimes 
corpses to prove that the fight was a good one. See if you can determine 
which side in our story belongs to San Juan and the Virgin de la Candelaria 
and which group belongs to San Martin on his horse. It shouldn't be too hard 
for you to fit the pieces of this puzzle into place. Comprende? 

-Leonard A. Lowag, Ph.D. 

 CHAPTER ONE 

It wasn't much of an orgy, as orgies go. Just three young, sixteen-year-old 
girls and two rather flabby men in the forties. The girls cavorted like 
young fillies in a spring meadow, running with springing steps on top of the 
twelve-foot circular bed in the center of the room. In a language strange to 
the girls' ears, the men commanded them to do this and that, and the girls 
complied willingly if not eagerly. 

Paco Morales watched them. He sat in the large, comfortable, green velvet 
chair concealed from view in the small room behind the floor-to-ceiling, 
wall-length mirror. From where he sat, Paco could see everything that took 
place in the large room. Only a select few-Senor Guzman, Consuela Garcia, 
Paco and a few very close friends-knew about the secret room. Paco was there 
because it was his job to be there. Senor Guzman had trained him to operate 
the motion picture projectors, the electrical hoists and the special 
lighting controls. Once he had mastered the complicated controls, Paco was 
placed in charge of what his employer called the "Game Room." 

Paco liked his job. He enjoyed seeing people fuck. He liked to do some of 
the fucking himself, but that happened only on very special occasions. Most 
of all, Paco liked being where no one could see him. Grotesque, ugly, 
misshapen, a beast-were all terms that had been used to describe Paco. Women 
shuddered when they saw him, and even men could not look at him long without 
averting their eyes. 

He had not always been like this. It was just since the accident, since that 
bus had come around the curve in the middle of the road and caught its 
bumper on the wheel of his motorcycle. The branch of the tree stripped his 
face to shreds as Paco flew through the air. He landed on a bed of rocks. A 
second later, what was left of the motorcycle fell on top of him, crushing 
his legs and shattering his rib cage. The men at the hospital worked 
rniracles, pumping blood into his almost lifeless body and patching up the 
rest of him as best they could. One leg was three inches shorter than the 
other, his body was covered with ugly, purple scars, and his face looked 
like a patchwork quilt of grafted skin, but Paco lived. 

The only part of his body that had come through the accident unharmed was 
Paco's magnificent cock. He smiled to himself when he remembered that gringo 
bitch and the expression on her face when she measured his fully erect cock 
that afternoon a few months ago. "Twelve inches long and five inches in 
girth!" she exclaimed. Paco's tongue wet his lips as he remembered how she 
had tried to get away from him. He had taken great pleasure in tying her 
hands to the bars and sinking his throbbing cock deep into her gringo belly. 
Tears streamed down her face as he plunged in and out, and that excited Paco 
all the more. Yes, he mused, that was one hell of an afternoon! 

Paco's arm ached. He rubbed it to ease the pain. Since the accident he 
couldn't straighten his left arm completely. The bones had not set properly 
and the arm was permanently bent at the elbow. It always ached like this in 
the evenings, and he tried to rest it as much as he could. Paco was certain 
it had something to do with the climate. He hated Cuernavaca. It was always 
warm, and that made Paco sweat. Water, in any form, was disagreeable to him. 
That was why he seldom bathed. Water scared him. When he was a child he fell 
into a tank and almost drowned. He could still remember gasping for air. 

He'd be in Toluca right now, if he could. It was never hot there, and the 
high, dry climate made him feel better. But Paco had no choice. Nobody would 
hire him the way he was. Maybe a circus, but Paco was sensitive about the 
way he looked. He didn't want people paying to see him as a freak, pointing 
at him with their dirty fingers and encouraging then filthy children to 
laugh at him. 

In addition to his magnificent cock, Paco had one other valuable asset, his 
unquestioning loyalty to Senor Guzman. It was Senor Guzman who paid all the 
hospital bills and brought Paco to Cuernavaca and had given him something to 
do. All the men who worked for him loved Senor Guzman. Paco would die for 
his employer. He almost had. It was Senor Guzman's motorcycle Paco was 
riding when the bus hit him. He was on his way to Matamoros with sealed 
instructions and pay-off money for the men there. But that was long 
ago-eight years this month. 

Paco reached out with his right hand and turned the volume control on the 
panel. "I want to fuck this one like a dog. I wonder how in the hell you say 
that in Spanish?" boomed the voice of one of the men in the room. With a 
flick of his wrist, Paco cut the volume back. He leaned over and spat on the 
floor. "Mother of God," he mumbled, "how I hate these miserable fucking 
gringos!" 

He looked at their weak, pink bodies and their tiny, thin pricks and spat 
again. They couldn't satisfy a flea with those miserable pricks of theirs, 
he thought. Their bellies shook like goatskins half filled with wine. The 
fat one, whose belly hung down over his little prick so you could hardly see 
it, was Dr. Carl Gorman. Senor Guzman had introduced him to Paco the day 
before and announced that he was joining the staff. Paco couldn't pronounce 
what Gorman was. Anyway, he wasn't a real doctor. Senor Guzman had explained 
that. This one did something to people's heads. Shrunk them, Senor Guzman 
had said. Paco couldn't see how you could shrink a head, but it was none of 
his business anyway. He would put up with the pink bastard because Senor 
Guzman wanted it that way. 

Paco didn't know the other man. He was someone from Washington who had to be 
"entertained," and Paco knew they had many like this visit the Game Room. 
Paco didn't care. He did what he was told, and that was all that was 
important to him. 

His eyes slowly swept the large room, taking in the expanse of red velvet 
that covered the walls and the white silk that hung in folds from the 
ceiling to give the Game Room the atmosphere of a Sheik's tent. The floor 
was covered with a three-inch thick carpet of silver fur. Several times, 
when no one was there, Paco had quietly gone to the Game Room and walked 
barefoot through that fur. It was so soft, so luxurious! Along one wall were 
twelve chairs covered in black velvet to match the two long couches along 
the other walls which were draped with spreads made of black fur. 

The circular bed commanded the room. It looked like a giant ottoman and was 
covered in soft, pure white fur. From experience Paco knew that the round 
bed caught most of the action in the room. The couches were only used when 
it was a large orgy, or for whippings. Senor Guzman said it was too 
expensive to let girls bleed on the white fur, and some of them did bleed! 

The pleasant feeling the room gave him left Paco when he fixed his eyes on 
the twisting bodies on the round bed. The contrast between the soft-toned 
olive skin of the two girls and the pink, scrubbed look of the men disgusted 
Paco, causing him to spit at the floor again. A vague excitement growing in 
his loins, Paco's eyes were riveted to the scene in front of him. 

Carl Gorman had one of the young girls in a kneeling position near the edge 
of the bed. Her face and breasts were pressed against the white fur of the 
bed and her ass was held high in the air. Paco watched Gorman sink his 
finger deep into the girl's cunt and then withdraw it. He raised his hand a 
fraction of an inch and then sunk the same finger deep into her ass. 
"Aargh!" the girl moaned at the intrusion into her tight canal. Gorman 
repeated the action three times, the girl registering pain on each 
intrusion. 

Then, holding his prick in his hand, he moved his body against her and sunk 
his throbbing piece as deeply as he could in her ass. The girl's raven black 
hair was spread wildly across the white fur as she shook her head from side 
to side. "Aargh!" she screamed as Carl Gorman ran his dry cock in and out of 
her tight little asshole, his balls bouncing against the cheeks of her ass. 
The girl beat her fists on the bed and tears streamed down her face and 
splashed on the fur. 

Paco watched as Gorman's cock turned from its natural, sickening-pink, color 
to a light brown. The stirring in Paco's loins had now become a demand and 
he reached down and took his gigantic cock in his hand. That dirty gringo 
prick, he thought, I'd like to bend him over like he has her! I'd shove this 
monster up his ass and split him apart! That little hole of his would tear 
all the way up his back. Paco began drawing the skin up and down on his 
cock, dreaming of ramming it up Gorman's ass. He could see it, all brown and 
covered with blood when he pulled it out. Then he'd push the dirty gringo to 
his knees and make him lick it clean, asking him how he liked the taste of 
his own shit! 

Paco's hand moved faster as his excitement grew. Tiny beads of moisture 
appeared around the ridges of his cock, and he could smell his sex. It was a 
rancid, strong, almost overpowering smell, and Paco liked it. Senor Guzman 
made him spray himself with cologne every day, but this was Paco's favorite 
perfume-the smell of sex. 

Carl Gorman went into a frenzied motion, his knees bucking against the edge 
of the bed as his cock flew in and out of the girl's asshole. Paco watched 
the girl pull her Hp between her teeth as her head flew from side to side. 
Her knuckles were white as she gripped the fur of the bed. 

"I'm cummin'!" Gorman shouted, pounding against the girl with every muscle 
in his body. He suddenly stopped and held his body against hers rigidly as 
he pumped his come up into her belly. Slowly his muscles relaxed and he 
withdrew. 

The girl remained as she was. Paco saw the milky white flow mixed with 
droplets of blood ooze from her tortured asshole and drip down her legs. Her 
body shuddered and she slowly backed off the bed and walked to the door 
leading to the large, tile covered bathroom at the end of the room. Gorman, 
a sadistic but satisfied look on his face, walked over to the silver bowl on 
the marble table at the entrance and selected a long, thin, marijuana 
cigarette. 

Paco, his cock throbbing in his hand so that he could feel his heart beating 
like the rapid pounding of a kettle drum, let his eyes drift to the other 
couple. The girl was on her back, her soft olive skin warm and inviting 
against the white fur. She had her knees up in the air and the gringo was 
between her legs, his hands holding them apart while his tongue explored the 
paradise of her downy cunt. Paco could see his tongue circling the lips of 
her vagina, and his own tongue wet his lips thinking about the delicious 
taste of a young cunt. It was always salty, mixed with just a touch of 
sweetness like honey. Paco loved to sink his tongue deep into a cunt, 
tasting those bittersweet liquids girls use to cleanse themselves. God how 
he needed a cunt to lick! It had been so long! Senor Guzman only used Paco 
when he wanted a special type of show, or when he wanted to punish some girl 
with Paco's mighty cock. It had been almost two months now. He had to have 
some-soon! 

Paco could taste that cunt as he watched the gringo's tongue flick back and 
forth over the tiny clitoris. "Ooh!" the girl moaned as the gringo's tongue 
slipped past the silky hair and through the puffed lips into the wet 
entrance to her belly. 

The man turned around so that he was kneeling over the girl's face. With a 
quick movement of his hips he plunged his cock into her waiting mouth. Paco 
watched the thin, pink prick slide into the girl's waiting mouth until it 
was sunk down deep in her throat, the hair at the base of it resting on her 
ruby red lips and the small sack with the pulsing balls bouncing up and down 
on her nose. The man's head buried itself in the soft folds of her thighs, 
his tongue darting deep into her cunt. 

The girl's hand crept up the cheeks of the man's ass, her finger searching 
for and finding his asshole. With one quick movement she buried her finger 
to the hilt in his ass, finger-fucking him as her mouth enveloped his 
swollen cock. Their bodies began a slight rocking motion, increasing in 
tempo as they climbed the ladder of divine sensation. 

Paco imagined himself on top of the girl, choking her with his huge cock and 
licking her cunt until it was completely dry. With his hand, Paco matched 
their tempo, the head of his cock turning a bright red as he approached 
climax. He saw the man spread the lips of the girl's cunt with his fingers 
and jab his tongue as far as he could up her. With a quick jerk the girl 
arched her body, drawing the man's tongue even deeper inside her. Her feet 
flew into the air and began trembling. 

Paco had timed himself to come at the precise moment the girl did, white 
liquid spurting from his enraged cock and making little puddles on the 
floor. The man was coming now, too, pumping his hot liquid down the girl's 
throat. He pulled his head from between the girl's legs, his face covered 
with her moist come, and gasped for breath, the girl's thick come dripping 
from his nose into his mouth. 

Paco arranged himself, sliding his limp member back into his pants. He stood 
up and moved to the control board. He was certain the men were through now, 
and he'd have to be ready to unlock the electrically sealed door when they 
wanted to leave. Once again he turned the volume control, this time 
listening to their conversation. The girls were both now in the bathroom 
repairing themselves from the ravages of the two men. 

"Here, John, light up a stick," Carl Gorman said, offering the silver bowl 
to the other man. "It'll relax you and help you savor what you've just had." 

"No thanks, I've never tried pot." 

"You'd better. That's our business, you know. Senor Guzman likes to see his 
guests use his product. Besides, John, it's perfectly harmless. Come on, 
you'll enjoy a little trip, especially after a fucking like that!" 

Paco looked at them with disgust. He gave the volume control a vicious twist 
and cut them off. Shit, he thought to himself, they'll be there another hour 
now! He watched the other man take one of the thin cigarettes and accept a 
light from Dr. Gorman, both men smiling at some secret joke. 

"Mother of God," Paco muttered to himself as he flopped back down in the 
large chair, "I hope my day comes soon!" 

No, it wasn't much of an orgy, as orgies go, but it added fuel to a fire 
that had been raging in Paco's loins for some time. A fire someone would pay 
dearly to put out. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Applause rang through the auditorium and people sprang to their feet to give 
Jane Horner a standing ovation. Her speech, pitched between intellect and 
emotion, had stirred them. Their enthusiasm engulfed her like a warm, 
comfortable cloud and Jane's face broke into a radiant smile. This was one 
of the rewards for hard work, she told herself. When you took an apathetic 
public and moved them one tiny fraction of an inch, you really accomplished 
something! 

She blew them kisses as they continued to clap. Moving across the 
auditorium, Jane's eyes caught the two American flags and the red, white, 
and blue banner, "PUT DOWN POT! BRING OUR YOUTH BACK TO MORALITY!" A warm 
feeling spread through her body. Yes, this made the back-breaking schedule, 
the countless hours on planes, those vicious attacks on her by certain 
elements of society and all the hard work worthwhile. 

Her knees felt suddenly weak and Jane put her hands up to stop the applause. 
She sat down while Reverend Morton stood to close the meeting with a prayer. 
Her head bent, Jane stared into the untouched plate of food in front of her. 
Twelve peas, one scoop of cold mashed potatoes, and a scrawny half-chicken, 
undercooked and tasteless. The caterers always charged high prices and 
delivered food no one would touch. Do they count the peas, she wondered? At 
lunch in Des Moines there had been eleven peas. Tonight there were twelve. 
And that poor scrawny bird! They must have searched long and hard to find 
him, she thought bitterly. 

Jane caught herself in mid-thought. Why this wasn't like her at all! For 
Jane, life had always been a miracle, a great joy, something to savor and 
look forward to the next exciting moment. There were so many unhappy people 
in the world, living absolutely miserable lives and starving to death! One 
should take joy in life and shout thanks to the Creator for making it such a 
marvelous experience! Jane knew what misery and loneliness were, and she 
knew that only the individual could overcome these mortal enemies of man. It 
took guts and determination though, and Jane lived in a fear that she would 
never be able to explain this to others. 

At twenty-three, Jane Horner was something of a sensation. Time and Newsweek 
had written her up in the last few months, and Life had scheduled an 
interview with her this fall. She'd appeared on several of the network TV 
shows, and her fan mail had now reached over a thousand letters a week. Yet 
Jane Horner had begun life alone, with no relatives to help and guide her. 
The product of an illicit love affair, Jane had been left on the steps of an 
orphanage. 

With a fierce will and a pragmatic belief in what was right and wrong, Jane 
had overcome her doubtful beginning. When she entered high school and found 
the other children smoking marijuana, taking dope and engaging in immoral 
sex acts together, Jane found her cause. She began studying all she could 
find on marijuana, encouraged others to join her in her crusade and 
organized secret groups who would report offenders to the police. The school 
authorities asked her to lecture the student body on the evils of marijuana, 
and that lecture launched Jane's career. 

Committees were formed all over the Midwest and speaking invitations 
followed Jane wherever she traveled. Contributions poured in from the 
nation's Bible Belt, and before long Jane Horner headed a financially strong 
and powerful organization dedicated to alerting the public to the dangers of 
marijuana and calling on them to help stamp this dread scourge from the 
land. 

Jane knew that her physical attributes were a great asset to her cause. 
People were always surprised to find a beautiful young girl at the head of 
such an organization, and the press gave her face and figure added attention 
in the nation's newspapers. Jane's petite body was rounded with curves that 
on anyone else would have been considered voluptuous, but her beautiful face 
with the small dimples that dotted her smile framed with golden blonde hair 
that cascaded in soft willowy curls to her shoulder made Jane look like the 
fresh apple pie version of the All American Girl. Her true beauty was 
something you caught after you studied her for a moment. Pale blue eyes that 
sparkled against her creamy white complexion gave her a virginal look other 
girls envied. 

Jane Horner is a virgin-emphatically so! Morality is more than a word to 
Jane, it's a code, a belief, a precious human attribute to be guarded with 
one's very life if necessary! Many ardent swains had found that Jane took 
morality seriously. Even Peter.... 

A warm, pleasant feeling flowed through Jane as she thought of Peter Reskin. 
She knew that she had at last found the perfect man, and she was certain he 
would ask her to marry him soon. She hoped it would be soon! She felt so 
guilty about the things she did to herself with her finger in bed alone 
after a date with Peter. Even if it was wicked, Jane just couldn't help 
herself. Peter aroused things in her she never knew existed. That demanding 
itch between her legs frightened her. It was something she didn't 
understand, something she didn't know how to cope with, and something that 
was becoming more urgent as each day passed. 

"Amen," the crowd said in unison. Chairs shuffled and people stood up, 
gathering in tight little knots to talk for a moment before they left. The 
local dignitaries came forward to shake Jane's hand and congratulate her on 
an inspiring speech. She stood and took each hand offered, muttering an 
automatic "thank you." 

But Jane's mind was wrestling with a more pressing problem. Here she was, at 
the pinacle of her career with thousands of people depending on her. She had 
lovely clothes, a modest but attractive apartment and a substantial savings 
account. Her work was truly a joy for her, and she had more friends than 
most people made in a lifetime. Yet Jane Horner was unhappy. 

For the past several months she had awakened almost every night near 
midnight, tears running from her eyes, sweat pouring from her forehead and a 
deep sobbing coursing through her body. Several times she had screamed, an 
unknown terror gripping her entire body. This was the first time Jane had 
ever experienced nightmares, and she was at a loss to understand what 
brought these black clouds crashing down upon her in her sleep. 

And in the last several weeks there were the dizzy spells. She could be 
standing talking to someone when she would suddenly feel dizzy. Once she 
would have fallen to the floor if a man hadn't caught her. At first the 
spells had gone away almost immediately, but now they were lasting for as 
long as ten minutes. She would sit with her head swirling through a stark 
white void, using every ounce of her will to gain control of herself. 

Her enthusiasm and bounce, which a few short months ago were spontaneous, 
now had to be forced. Jane Horner was tired-very tired. 

Worse than all that, Jane, for the first time in her life, had doubts. Just 
last week she was testifying in juvenile court against a fifteen-year-old 
pusher. She'd done this a dozen times before, knowing that she was serving a 
moral society by helping weed out the bad apples. But this time she doubted. 
It was just for a moment, the moment she looked into those young eyes 
staring at her, but it shot through her like a knife plunged into her 
breast. She'd only hesitated for a moment, but her moment of weakness 
appalled her. 

Doctor Bill had told her last week that she had to slow down, that she was 
pushing herself at a breakneck pace that would kill her. He said she was 
exhausted, and Jane was beginning to think he was right. 

It happened that same night. 

Jane had to run to catch her plane back to Omaha. When she arrived, she took 
a cab to her apartment house. Jane paid the driver, pulled her heavy brief 
case from the back seat and started up the steps to the front door. The taxi 
driver was about to pull away when he saw Jane's body stiffen for a moment 
and then collapse on the third step. The brief case fell from her hand, the 
catch opening and spewing its contents on the sidewalk. He jumped out of the 
cab and ran to her inert body. Relieved that her pulse was all right, the 
driver picked her up to carry her inside. His hand cupped her breast and he 
was surprised by the feel of the firm, full globe hidden beneath her 
conservative dress. I'll bet she's a great piece of ass, he thought to 
himself as he carried her up the stairs. Jane was oblivious to the several 
squeezes he gave her breast, but he smiled as he noted that the nipple 
became erect and taut under the pressures of his fingers. 

Things were blurred and the room was spinning as she regained consciousness. 
Everything was vaguely familiar, but Jane had no idea where she was. For a 
moment she thought the black terror had crashed in on her again, but then 
she saw that she was still in street clothes. Someone was standing beside 
her. Who was it? She could make out the outline, but everything was still 
too blurred. 

"Jane, are you all right?" 

"Oh, thank God you're here, Doctor Bill! Where am I?" 

"In your own room. How do you feel?" 

"I'm not sure. Dizzy. And my head hurts. What happened?" 

"You fainted on the sidewalk in front of the building. The taxi driver 
carried you up here and Mildred Thatcher down the hall called me. It's a 
good thing I live at the Broadmore around the corner." 

He took her wrist in his gentle hand and counted her pulse. Satisfied, he 
shook a thermometer to bring the mercury down and put it in her mouth. 

The strong smell of alcohol drifted to Jane's nose and caused her nostrils 
to flare momentarily. 

"Doctor Bill, what's wrong with me lately?" 

"Don't talk. Give me a chance to find out. Offhand, though, I'd say it's a 
plain and simple case of physical and emotional exhaustion. Last week I 
warned you this would happen, but you refused to listen to me." 

He took a hypodermic syringe from his bag and pierced the rubber cap on a 
small vial, drawing a clear liquid into the glass cylinder. 

"I'm going to give you a strong sedative, something that will knock you out 
and give you some much needed rest." 

He took her arm gently in his hand, lanced the skin with the sharp needle 
and slowly forced the sedative into her system. Then he took the thermometer 
from her mouth, read it, nodded to himself and replaced it in the black 
plastic container. Snapping his bag shut, he sat on the edge of the bed. 

"Jane, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, I have to insist that 
you slow down. Unless I miss my guess, there's not a thing wrong with you 
that a few weeks of complete rest and relaxation won't cure. You've been 
pushing yourself too hard trying to carry a load that would kill two weaker 
people. You're only twenty-three, but you're worn out! If you keep this pace 
up, you may never see your twenty-fourth birthday-and I'm not kidding you 
one bit! 

"Nobody can keep up the pace you've set. Your mind and your body are 
rebelling. They're warning you that they can't go on like this." 

Jane looked up into the kindly face, his soft gray eyes conveying a meaning 
to her. Here is someone who truly cares about me, she thought, as a blissful 
relaxation flowed through her veins. And he's right, I can't go on like 
this. He has known me from my days in the orphanage, and he certainly knows 
the limits of my body. She opened her eyes briefly as his voice cut through 
the mist surrounding her. 

"I've told Mildred to cancel all of your speaking engagements for the next 
thirty days. Reverend James can fill in for you on most of them, and the 
cause won't suffer. 

"I'm having your phone disconnected for the next couple of weeks, and I 
don't want you leaving the apartment. I'll be by every day, and we'll see if 
we can't build you back up." 

"You won't have any trouble from me, Doctor Bill. Tonight has made a 
believer out of me!" 

Jane heard the latch on the front door snap as she sunk into a soft, billowy 
pink cloud, the world far behind her. 

The change was almost immediate. She remained in bed for the first three 
days, drifting in and out of an euphoric state of complete relaxation. On 
the fourth day she got up, took a very hot and completely relaxing bath, and 
stood before the full-length mirror rubbing the soft towel over her skin. 
She looked at her proud breasts with the strawberry nipples that crested her 
snowy white skin. 

Jane was proud of her breasts, but she always concealed them under 
loose-fitting, conservative garments, afraid that she would somehow cause 
men to lust after her. 

The V where her creamy white thighs joined was a protruding mound covered 
with a soft, silky patch of golden blonde hair. As her eyes gazed at her 
reflection, Jane thought she saw the pink lips of her vagina form a pout. 
She shook herself violently to cast off such evil thoughts and pulled a robe 
around her. 

The strength flowed back through her. She read almost constantly, and she 
felt both her mind and body sharpen to a keen edge. Bill Martin was pleased 
and enthusiastic about her recovery. He gave her daily reports from Mildred 
Thatcher about the progress of the organization, and he was pleased to see 
that Jane didn't try to go right back to work. 

"I feel like a new woman," she told him one afternoon. "You've done miracles 
for me, but it's been almost ten days now. Shouldn't I think about getting 
back to work?" 

"I was wondering when you'd begin feeling some anxiety about your work 
again, and I think we're at the stage where we can discuss that now. Your 
recovery has been excellent. You look and feel like a new person, Jane, but 
that's not the whole story. 

"If you went back to work today, you'd be back in the same shape again 
within a few short months." 

Jane walked over to the window. As she watched a gentle breeze filter 
through the beautiful elm trees that lined the quiet street below, Jane had 
a vague suspicion Doctor Bill was trying to tell her something, something 
that might even alter the entire course of her life. 

"I don't understand," she said, turning to look deeply into his soft gray 
eyes. "Is there something organically wrong with me, something serious?" 

"Not at all. All of the tests we've done in the past week have come up 
negative. You're in excellent health, physically. What I'm trying to tell 
you is that the same mental exhaustion which caused this attack of nerves 
will come right back and cause another if you don't realign your life some." 

"Are you saying I had a nervous breakdown?" 

"For lack of a better definition, yes. You put yourself under too much 
pressure, carried too big a load, shouldered too much responsibility. I'm 
not trying to tell you to quit, Jane, but damn it, you simply have to slow 
down! Let some of the others carry part of the load!" 

"You offend me when you swear like that. I thought you were a bigger person 
than to have to resort to common, vulgar language like that," she said as 
she moved to her chair by the window and sat down. Jane saw a momentary 
frown cross Doctor Bill's face, but he moved to her and took her hand with a 
gentle pressure. 

"I'm sorry. It's seldom one finds someone true to their beliefs. Look, Jane, 
I've been making some arrangements and I want you to follow my advice." 

Jane averted his eyes and looked out the window, letting the familiar scene 
reassure her. She had no idea of what was coming, but a warning inside her 
made her dread what he was about to say. 

"I want you to take a couple of weeks completely away from your work. You 
can sit down, relax and analyze exactly where you're going. Think about the 
organization. Consider how it can be changed to let others carry part of 
your load. Arrange it so that an eight-hour day is all that's required of 
you. And then begin thinking about having a personal life, one that's 
completely separated from your work. If you can do all of this, your 
recovery will be complete and you won't have to worry about another attack." 

Still avoiding his searching eyes, Jane continued gazing at the quiet 
neighborhood she loved so well. "You said a moment ago that you had made 
some arrangements?" 

"Yes, and I want you to approve them. You know the conference on narcotic 
and drug control being held in Mexico City later this month?" 

"Yes, but that's for scientific people only, isn't it?" 

"Reverend James contacted a doctor here who made arrangements with a Dr. 
Gorman in Mexico City, and we have an invitation for you to attend. Reverend 
James' congregation and another church group are footing the bill for your 
trip. What I want you to do is fly down to Mexico City at the end of this 
week." 

"But the conference isn't until the end of the month." 

"Exactly! That will give you two weeks or better away from everything. You 
can relax, see the sights and begin reorganizing your life. It's a 
tailor-made opportunity. I've made all your reservations, and here's a 
letter to a good friend of mine, Robert Cutter, at the American Embassy in 
Mexico City. He'll look out for you and take care of anything you may need. 
I want you to go and see him as soon as you arrive. I've already written him 
that you're coming. 

"And before you offer me any arguments, Mildred Thatcher and Reverend James 
assure me that they and the others can handle everything here. You'll be 
missed, but they'll carry on your work." 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Avillo Guzman walked slowly down the sloping lawn to the gazebo. It was his 
custom to have a light breakfast consisting of fresh fruit, toast and coffee 
there every morning, and Avillo Guzman was very much a man of custom. He 
wore a pastel-blue silk shirt, black mohair slacks and a pair of Italian 
loafers made of kid leather with a stylish tassel where the laces should 
have been. At forty-six, Avillo Guzman was one of the most powerful men in 
Mexico, and he knew it. His body was surprisingly lean and hard, and he did 
exercises every day to keep it that way. His eyes were a bit too cold, like 
glittering steel; his nose a bit too Roman; his features too sharp, and his 
mouth too wide, too sensual, with lips that appeared to be mocking everyone 
and everything, but all of this was offset by a quick wit and a keen mind 
that had brought him to the top of the pack. 

He took a deep breath, inhaling the fragrance of his beautiful Cuernavaca 
estate. The fifteen-foot high walls surrounding the three acres were covered 
with a thick, lush growth of bougainvillaea draping down with cascading 
splashes of red and yellow. Jacaranda trees dotted the grounds, their 
gorgeous lavender blue blooms filling the air with a sweet, fresh fragrance. 
A man-made stream wound through the heavy-turfed grounds with quaint stone 
bridges gracefully crossing it here and there. Birds or paradise, gladiolas, 
and even orchids grew in profusion in little gardens along the stream. 

The main house was in the center of the property, surrounded by jacarandas 
and fruit-bearing citrus trees. Above the main house, on the highest part of 
the estate, was the Game Room, a separate building set off by itself. 
Servants' quarters, enough to house the staff of some twenty-odd necessary 
to run the estate, lined the west wall. The communications center, a 
building housing teletypes and a small telephone switchboard, was located in 
the far east comer, close by the giant swimming pool designed with a small, 
tropical island in the center, and a line of thatch-roofed cabanas along one 
end. 

Remembering that the rainy season would soon be here, Avillo Guzman looked 
up at the bright blue sky. He couldn't see even the hint of a cloud, and 
this pleased him. It was warm, but a slight breeze from the west made the 
air fresh and pleasant. It was never uncomfortable in this City of Eternal 
Spring, he thought to himself. For years he had lived in Mexico City, 
forty-six miles to the north, but that was when he was on his way up. With 
his widespread network firmly established, he could now afford the gracious 
living of the wealthy. 

The gazebo, covered with climbing jasmine and surrounded by lush tropical 
plants, was his favorite place on the estate. It provided him a certain 
tranquillity in the midst of beauty. 

Mark Wilson, not yet accustomed to the Mexican way of life, was up early and 
seated at the table when Senor Guzman arrived. He stood and offered his 
hand. 

"Good morning, Sir." 

"Buenos Dias, Mark. Sleep well?" 

"Like a log! This climate is unbelievable!" 

Avillo Guzman studied the fresh, clean-shaven face of the young American. He 
had high hopes for Mark. A few years ago a man like Mark Wilson would have 
served no purpose in his organization, but things had changed. Now a man 
like Mark would be very valuable. He had realized this the day he met Mark, 
even under the rather strange circumstances. 

Mark was graduated from Stanford last spring. His family were well-to-do and 
Mark decided to take a holiday in Mexico before settling down to work. He 
had specialized in public relations and had an offer from one of the top 
firms in San Francisco. His two-week holiday stretched into a month. He 
would have stayed even longer, but he was afraid he might lose out on the 
position he'd been offered. Crossing the border, Mark Wilson was arrested 
when the customs agents found two kilos of marijuana in his luggage. Because 
of his prominent family, Mark's arrest made headlines. 

Avillo Guzman was in Juarez that morning. He immediately arranged for bond 
and had Mark brought to his hotel room in El Paso. It was through Guzman's 
organization that Mark purchased the marijuana, but that wasn't the reason 
for Senor Guzman's sudden and unexpected assistance. Mark was just the type 
of man he had been looking for, and he offered him a job while they talked. 

Mark had been using marijuana for years. Convinced that it was harmless, he 
intended to continue using it. And when Senor Guzman explained that a felony 
conviction, which was certain, would ruin his career, prevent him from 
getting a decent job and even deny him his right to vote, Mark accepted his 
offer. He flew home, arranged personal matters, went through a bitter 
argument with his parents, and returned to Mexico to live. This was Mark's 
third week in Cuernavaca, and he loved it. He had a suite in the main house, 
delicious food, and had even experienced two delightful sessions in the Game 
Room. Who could ask for more? 

Gradually, Mark was learning the ins and outs of the Guzman empire. His job, 
his employer had explained, was to handle any touchy situations which might 
arise, and to develop a long-range, hard-hitting program to insure that 
marijuana would maintain its current status in the United States. Any moves 
to legalize the use or sale of marijuana up north had to be thwarted. As a 
result, Mark found himself on the side of those he had fought against for so 
long. 

"Where's Dr. Gorman?" Guzman asked, sipping the piping hot, aromatic coffee. 

"He helped entertain that man from Washington in the Game Room last night, 
so I guess he's sleeping in this morning." 

"Any word on the Horner girl?" 

The workings of his employer's mind completely left Mark on this issue. 
Perhaps he could get him to explain, even though he had been unsuccessful in 
two previous attempts. Mark slid a fresh piece of pina onto his plate and 
spoke as he cut the sweet meat into small chunks. 

"Gorman told me yesterday that he'd received a wire saying she would attend 
the conference. Our man at Aeronaves says she's booked on a flight to Mexico 
City this coming Friday...." 

Before he could ask his question, Dr. Gorman strolled into the gazebo, 
exchanged greetings with the two men and sat down to take a sip of the 
steaming coffee the houseboy had placed before him. He lifted his cup in a 
mock toast and let the savory brew awaken his appetite. 

"Mark tells me Miss Horner has taken the bait," Guzman said. 

"She arrives late Friday afternoon," Gorman replied. 

"Excellent! And the interception?" Guzman asked. 

"Consuela leaves in the morning for the states. She'll pick up the flight at 
Chicago. It's arranged for her to have the seat next to Miss Homer." 

"Very efficient. I'm pleased with the way you handle things, Doctor." 

"I wish I understood just what it is I'm handling." 

Mark opened his mouth to add his own question about the Horner incident, but 
another interruption arrived in the person of Juan Hinojos, one of the men 
in charge of the communications center. Beads of perspiration on his 
forehead made it obvious that he had rushed from the communications building 
to the gazebo. 

"Senor Guzman...." he began, but Avillo Guzman silenced him with a wave of 
his hand. Guzman raised his arm, glanced at his watch, and spoke. 

"Calm down, Juan. If you hurry like that you'll die young. Inasmuch as it's 
ten-fifteen, you've come to tell me you've just received a teletype from 
Juarez. Is that right?" 

"Yes, sir...." 

"And the teletype said that Jaime Rios was just arrested at the border and 
two hundred kilos of marijuana were seized. Is that correct?" 

Juan looked at his employer, his mouth open and a startled expression in his 
eyes. Senor Guzman must have eyes in the back of his head, or, better yet, a 
super radio receiver in his ear! The incident had taken place less than 
twenty minutes ago. The teletype came direct from their man at the border, 
and Juan had rushed to the gazebo the minute he received it. How could he 
know? "Well?" 

"Yes, sir, that's exactly what happened. I just don't see how you...." 

"Never mind, Juan," Guzman interrupted, "you're doing a good job in 
communications. Just keep it up. I have a certain instinct about these 
things." 

Juan, dismissed with a wave of the hand, walked dejectedly back across the 
lawn. "Mother of God," he muttered to himself, "he's done that to me five 
times! I don't see how he knows!" 

"If I didn't know better, Senor Guzman," Mark said, "I'd swear you arrange 
these arrests!" 

Senor Guzman looked into Mark's eyes for a moment. Mark thought he was going 
to say something, perhaps even answer him, but Guzman thought better of it 
and leaned back in his chair. Fresh coffee was brought and the three men sat 
in silence for a few minutes, each lost in his own thoughts. Dr. Gorman 
broke the mood with a snap of his fingers and leaned forward. 

"Before I forget it," he said, "Consuela asked for a car and a driver in 
Mexico City when they get here. She said to make the car one of the tourist 
type taxis." 

"Send Paco. He's trustworthy and a good driver. Arrange with Mornera to have 
a car for him." 

"But he's so ugly," Gorman said. 

Guzman whirled on Gorman, his eyes blazing momentarily with a cold fire. The 
storm went through him in a fraction of a second, and his voice was 
perfectly controlled when he replied. 

"You don't have to be handsome to drive a car! Paco will handle everything 
the way I want it handled. Have him see me before he leaves." 

What Mark had seen in Guzman's eyes for that one fleeting moment frightened 
him. He'd always found Guzman to be the perfect gentleman, suave, 
intelligent, and in complete control of himself. This cold rage was an 
entirely new facet of Guzman's personality, one he hoped he would not have 
an occasion to explore. Mark was about to question Senor Guzman about the 
Horner girl, when Dr. Gorman saved him the trouble. 

"How about filling us in on what you have in mind for Miss Homer?" 

"Yes, I've been wondering the same thing," Mark interjected. "You've gone to 
a great deal of trouble and expense to bring the Homer girl down here. 
What's it all about?" 

"Have you read that material on Jane Homer I gave you yesterday?" Guzman 
asked Mark, leaning far back in his chair and lifting is coffee to hold the 
cup in both hands as he watched the two men at the table. 

"Yes. I read it all last night," Mark replied. "It would seem our little 
Miss Homer is the goody-goody of all times, the purer-than-driven-snow 
virgin type." 

"Miss Homer will be a much wiser goody-goody, as you call it, Mark, when she 
leaves us. As to her virginity, I think Paco can alter that state forever." 

Mark Wilson had grown to hate Jane Horner in less than thirty minutes as he 
read about her life. His first reaction was that she was very attractive. 
Her photos made her look like a movie star and Mark's interest soared as he 
glanced through the file his employer had given him. This soon clouded over, 
however, when he realized that Jane Homer represented everything he had 
fought against for the past five years. She was a Bible Belt Baptist, one 
who believed every word of the Bible literally. Her campaign against 
marijuana was based entirely on emotionalism. Her organization ignored 
scientific facts that didn't fit their preconceived notions, and they made a 
hero out of any quack who said marijuana was evil. The thought of Jane Homer 
being tortured didn't bother Mark at all. In fact, he'd rather like to see 
that stuck-up blonde get the royal fucking of her life. But he couldn't see 
the logic of it from Guzman's standpoint. 

"I'm sure it'll do her a world of good," Mark said with a smile, "but I fail 
to see how it will help our business. What's the plan?" 

"I have no plan at the moment, Mark. But let me suggest several interesting 
avenues to be explored before Miss Homer arrives...." 

Mark and Dr. Gorman listened attentively as Senor Guzman led them along a 
number of rather devious paths. This was Mark's first experience with how 
Guzman's keen mind worked, and he was openly amazed at the ruthless cunning 
displayed before him. No wonder he's where he is today, Mark thought. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

"Your first trip to Mexico?" asked the very attractive Latin girl sitting 
next to Jane. 

Jane had noticed the ultra-chic Dior suit when they were boarding the plane. 
The patent leather shoes and bag set off the pastel green silk of the suit 
and blended with the girl's raven black hair beautifully, Jane thought. The 
girl's body, not too well concealed beneath the Dior creation, was 
outstanding. Her large, full breasts came together and left a deep cleavage 
that would lure men to the ends of the earth, Jane thought. Her face, with 
soft, delicate features framed in an almost perfect oval, was beautiful. The 
high cheek bones reminded Jane of a young Ava Gardner. 

"Yes," Jane replied, "and I'm so excited about it!" 

"I live there. And you're right, it's an exciting city. My name is Consuela 
Garcia. Connie for short." 

"Mine's Jane. Jane Homer, and I live in Omaha." 

The two girls chatted about fashions, new hair styles, the books they had 
read, and even religion. Jane learned that Connie was Catholic, but she 
didn't hold that against her. She had some very fine friends who were 
Catholic. In fact, Jane didn't hold anything against Connie; she liked her 
very much. Within an hour it seemed like they had known each other for 
years. Jane felt relaxed and at ease with Connie, and she couldn't help but 
notice the admiring glances the male passengers gave the two of them. 

Connie smoked, and even took a drink, but you couldn't hold that against 
her. After all, many people had no idea how much they tortured their bodies! 

Noticing the plain, but very expensive jewelry Connie wore, Jane supposed 
that Connie was married to a very wealthy man. She guessed Connie to be in 
her mid to late twenties, and Jane was certain Connie was a college 
graduate. 

"Where're you staying in Mexico City?" Connie asked. 

"At the El Presidents" 

"Marvelous, so am I." 

"I thought you lived there." 

"Oh, not in the city. I live down in Cuernavaca, but I'll spend tonight in 
the city. I want to do some shopping in the morning before I go down. Say, I 
have a marvelous idea! Why don't you come shopping with me in the morning? 
My uncle will have a car and driver for me, and we'll tour some of the best 
shops." 

"I'd love it!" Jane replied enthusiastically. "All I have to do is go by the 
American Ebasssy and say hello to a man who's expecting to hear from me as 
soon as I arrive. I'll do that first thing, and then we'll hit the shops. It 
sounds exciting!" 

Shit, Consuela thought to herself, there's a complication none of us 
anticipated! It'll be worth it, though. With that body of hers Jane would be 
a real star in the Game Room! Maybe Avillo will let me have a shot at her. 
I'd love to sit on that pretty face of hers and make her sink her tongue 
deep into my cunt! Consuela's legs felt a tight, tingling sensation when the 
thought of having Jane's head between her thighs came to her. She shifted in 
the seat to relieve the itch in her loins, remembering that the fish wasn't 
completely in the net yet. 

"Unless it's a close friend, check in by phone. It'll save you a lot of 
time." 

"I suppose I could do that. I don't really know the man at all. He's a 
friend of my doctor. Yes, I'll do that." 

That wasn't as bad as it sounded, Consuela thought. She doesn't know him at 
all! That should be simple to handle! A phone call, a plausible story and 
all would be taken care of. 

"Do you have other friends in Mexico?" Consuela asked, making sure all 
loopholes were covered. 

"No, none at all. A Dr. Gorman helped me get an invitation to a meeting, but 
I've never met him." 

You will, indeed you will, Consuela said to herself! She could remember the 
day not too long ago when she was as naive and enthusiastic as Jane Horner. 
Dr. Gorman had helped change all that. Consuela's family was poor, and she 
had been waiting tables in a cocktail lounge in Mexico City. Guzman and 
Gorman were regular customers and they talked her into coming down to 
Cuernavaca one weekend. Gorman had been on a hypnotism kick at the time, and 
through hypnosis they introduced Consuela to the pleasures of sex in the 
Game Room. 

Consuela had had no education to speak of, but she was shrewd in the way of 
a peasant. Guzman's wealth was apparent, and when pleasure finally gave way 
to pain in sex, Consuela was receptive to a liaison proposed by Senor 
Guzman. She would live at the estate and be available for any type of sexual 
encounter. She would do exactly as she was told, giving them free reign with 
her body and mind. In return, Consuela would have all the money she could 
use, the finest wardrobe and extensive travel. She would receive 
instructions from a private tutor in the social graces and become the 
unofficial hostess at the estate. 

Doubts were ever present in Consuela's mind at the beginning. The things 
they did to her, and the things they had her do to them, were terrible. She 
spent weeks sleeping on her stomach and unable to sit down, her body racked 
with pain as a result of the hours she spent in the Game Room. Then a 
transformation took place. She gave herself over to them completely, 
wallowing with them in the pursuit of their unusual desires. Her personality 
changed, and soon she became a female version of her employer. 

The only thorn in her life was Dr. Carl Gorman. He said he was from Austria, 
but Consuela was certain there was more to his story than he was willing to 
tell. Under his benign facade, he was capable of almost inhuman cruelty. She 
was almost positive that Senor Guzman felt the same way about Gorman. The 
trust he placed in the doctor had definite limits. 

Jane broke the silence with a flood of questions about Mexico City. Consuela 
answered, her mind snapping back to the immediate task before her. They 
chatted, and when the plane landed they were the closest of friends. 

The two girls walked out of customs and immigrations together, arm in arm 
and laughing at how skillfully Consuela had handled the customs inspector. 
Paco was waiting for them near the airline counter, his deformed body 
standing out in the crowded corridor. He was dressed in a suit and tie, 
which accentuated rather than concealed his grotesque body. Consuela took 
Jane's arm and guided her through the crowd to where Paco was standing. Jane 
shuddered when she saw the misshapen body and the ugly face, and Paco didn't 
miss the momentary shiver running through her. 

"Hola, Paco!" Consuela said. "With this crowd, I'm certainly glad my uncle 
sent you to meet us! Paco, this is Jane Horner, a friend of mine." 

Paco smiled and nodded his head in a slight bow. Jane was thankful he didn't 
attempt to shake her hand. He was so repulsive to her, the very thought of 
having him touch her was more than she could bear. And the man smelled. He 
really did. Jane hadn't been certain at first with so many people around, 
but there was a definite odor coming from him, a very unpleasant odor. A 
mixture of cologne and dirt, or cologne and sweat. Her nostrils quivered at 
the foul scent, but Jane controlled herself lest she offend him. 

The porter brought their luggage and the trio headed for the main entrance 
where Paco had the car waiting with the engine running. They had to thread 
their way through the crowded lobby, and at one point Paco put his arm 
around Jane's waist and applied gentle pressure to guide her around a knot 
of people. Jane's body shuddered when she felt his unwelcome touch, causing 
her to give an involuntary jerk forward. She escaped from his grasp and 
moved straight forward through the crowd, tossing a "I think I can manage, 
thank you," over her shoulder at him. 

"You stinking gringo bitch," Paco murmured under his breath. "You'll be 
singing a different tune before long." He watched Jane's buttocks sway as 
she moved ahead of him, grinning inwardly as he thought of running his cock 
up that tight little ass. When he got through with her, she'd be begging him 
to use her blonde cunt! 

The ride into town was dull. Passing through one of the industrial 
districts, Jane watched the gray, dirty, uninteresting factories pass in an 
unending stream one after the other. Traffic, among the heaviest in the 
world, pressed bumper to bumper four lanes abreast. They were in the last 
hour of daylight and Jane noticed a heavy, black, oppressive haze hanging 
over the city. 

"What's that black smoke coming from?" she asked. 

"That's not smoke, dear," Consuela replied, "it's smog. It's become so bad 
in the past three years the government has passed a number of laws against 
air polution. The same problem some of your cities are having, only there 
it's worse, much worse!" 

Paco wound the car skillfully down San Juan de Letran and Isabel la 
Catolica, heading for the central part of the city. Using several side 
streets, he pulled onto Juarez one block before it became Paseo de la 
Reforma. He cursed under his breath as he saw the heavy traffic ahead on La 
Reforma. He wouldn't have come this way, but Consuela wanted to show the 
gringo cunt the tree-lined avenue with its many statues and fountains. It 
would take them better than thirty minutes to get to El Presidente this way. 
He settled back in the seat, giving his leg a rest, and gripped the wheel 
with a fierce determination. In the mirror he watched the blonde's tits 
heaving and jiggling as she and Consuela talked. 

"Say, I have a great idea!" Consuela said. "Why not have dinner with me 
tonight? We'll go over to La Jena and feast on some real French food. I'm 
famished, how about you?" 

"I'd like to take a raincheck on that Connie. To be perfectly honest, I'm 
pooped! I thought I'd just grab a bite at the hotel, take a good hot bath 
and hit the hay. It sounds like tomorrow will be a full day, and I think I'd 
better rest up for it. Maybe tomorrow night, or next week...." 

"I know how you feel, Jane. Traveling always tires me, too. I really should 
visit my cousin, but I just thought it would be pleasant to have dinner 
together. You're right about tomorrow. If we're going shopping, we'll be on 
our feet a lot. What do you say we have breakfast early? Eight-thirty all 
right with you?" 

"Fine. I'll meet you in the lobby." 

"Meet by the swimming pool. That's where we'll have breakfast. The pool is 
right in the lobby." 

"In the lobby?" 

"You'll see. It's beautiful." 

And it was! Jane had never seen a swimming pool in a hotel lobby before. It 
was against the west wall, the wall itself, made of rough stone, forming one 
edge of the pool. Ivy climbed the stone in irregular patterns and water 
dripped here and there to give the effect of a waterfall. Tables and chairs 
were arranged on a large terrace raised slightly above the pool, and people 
were seated sipping coffee, watching the lovely girl in a skimpy bikini take 
an early dip. 

Jane chose a table near the pool and sat down. The hot bath and ten full 
hours of sleep had done wonders for her. She felt completely relaxed and was 
looking forward to an exciting day of shopping. The waiter came and Jane 
ordered coffee while she waited for Connie. Looking at her watch, Jane 
noticed that it was already past eight-thirty. She smiled to herself. 
Mexicans are never on time! 

Consuela was busy wrestling with a problem of her own, how to get Jane to 
Cuernavaca. She hated to drug her. It always took so long to wear off, and 
she had no idea of what Senor Guzman had in mind for the girl. Yet she could 
see no other way. Jane obviously had a mind of her own, and she would be 
un-likely to agree to a trip to Cuernavaca without a damned good reason. If 
she told Jane her uncle was ill, Jane would be sympathetic, but she'd 
probably insist on remaining at the hotel. 

And the man at the American Embassy. That was something she had to handle 
before they did anything else! It wouldn't do to have anyone looking for 
Jane Horner! Paco wanted to hit her over the head and take her down last 
night, but Paco lacked a subtle mind. No, this had to be handled smoothly, 
and doping her was the only practical way. Consuela glanced at her watch and 
realized she was late. 

"That was a marvelous breakfast!" Jane said, finishing the last few sips of 
coffee in her cup. 

"You'll find the food here is excellent," Consuela replied. "Speaking of 
food, I suppose you've been warned about our little tourista bug down here?" 

"I've heard a lot about it. Should I be careful?" 

Consuela opened her purse and took out a small, red capsule. She handed it 
to Jane with a wide smile and a little wink. 

"Take this and you won't have to worry at all. It's no fun worrying about 
what you can and cannot eat while you're on vacation. This is perfectly 
safe, and it'll kill the bug before it has a chance to get started. I'll 
take you by a farmacia later on and you can get a supply of your own." 

Trying not to show her anxiety, Consuela watched Jane hold the capsule in 
her hand and weigh the decision in her mind. She wavered for a moment, 
opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, thought better of it 
and swallowed the pill with a big sip of water. Consuela relaxed, a grin 
momentarily crossing her lips. They had almost an hour before the pill would 
take effect, and there was still much to do. She signed the check and took 
Jane's arm, leading her outside where Paco had the car waiting. 

They drove through the little section of town surrounding the hotel. 
Consuela explained that it was really called the Niza area because Niza 
Street was its central thoroughfare, but that the taxi drivers called it the 
"Zona Rosa," the "Pink One," because this was where all the American 
tourists stayed. "Prices here are almost double what they are in any other 
part of town," Consuela said as Paco turned off Hamburgo Street and headed 
for the area near Washington Square. 

Consuela had him stop near the square, and she went to one of the little 
telephone boxes on the sidewalk. Jane waited in the car, a sudden drowsiness 
flowing through her body. Consuela had looked up the number of the American 
Embassy before she left her room, and Jane had mentioned at breakfast the 
name of the man she was to contact. 

"Hello, Mr. Cutter? ... This is Jane Horner. I meant to come by to see you 
this morning, but I ran into an old friend and we're going to Veracruz 
togther ... Yes, last night, but I was too tired to even try to call you. 
You understand how those long flights on a jet are ... Thank you. And I'm 
looking forward to meeting you. I'll call you when I get back to Mexico City 
... Oh, I don't really know. Maybe a week, maybe two weeks. I'll be back for 
the conference, though. Perhaps we can have lunch or dinner then ... Fine, 
I'll look forward to it ... 'By now." 

Consuela breathed a sigh of relief and walked back to the car. Jane was 
breathing heavily, her eyelids almost closed. When she heard Consuela open 
the door, Jane looked up. 

"Connie, I'm not feeling too well. I think I may be having one of my attacks 
again. Would you mind terribly if I went back to the hotel?" 

"Fine, dear. I understand. It may be the altitude. We're over a mile in the 
air, you know." 

Knowing Jane had no more than five minutes before she would be unconscious, 
Consuela motioned to Paco with her hand and the car lurched forward as he 
headed for Insurgentes Avenue and the Cuernavaca tollroad. Jane's last 
conscious memory was of a pretty fountain as Paco swung the car onto 
Insurgentes and headed south. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

The mozo closed the steel gates as Paco wheeled the car into the cochera. 
Mark Wilson and Avillo Guzman walked up from the gazebo and watched Paco and 
the mozo lift Jane's inert body from the back seat. Consuela walked over and 
stood beside them, a wide smile spreading across her face as Guzman 
complimented her on a job well done. 

"She's a beautiful bitch, isn't she?" remarked Mark. 

"That would be in the area of a matter of taste, Mark," said Guzman with a 
small chuckle, "but if you like her, why don't you break her in before I 
turn Paco loose on her? You could ream her out a little to prepare the way 
for Paco." 

"I think I'll take you up on that," Mark replied. 

"The drug should wear off completely in about five hours, but she'll be 
conscious enough for a good fucking in two hours," Consuela said. "Where do 
you want her? We can put her in the Game Room now, if you wish." 

"That will be her home for a while, so we might just as well start her off 
there," said Guzman. 

He signaled to Paco and they all headed for the building that housed the 
Game Room. Guzman unlocked the door as Paco and the mozo carried Jane 
inside. They placed her on the circular bed. Senor Guzman, Mark and the mozo 
left Consuela and Paco alone with Jane. Paco reached down to the drugged 
girl and took her two full breasts cruelly in his hands and squeezed them. 
Saliva dripped from his mouth as he thought about what he would do to the 
gringo cunt when his time came. 

"Are her tits as nice as they look?" Consuela asked, crossing the room and 
unbuttoning Jane's blouse. She slipped her hand inside and her searching 
fingers covered the firm mounds, teasing the large nipples erect by rolling 
them between her thumb and forefinger. "Oh, yes, they certainly are! I'm 
going to have some real fun with you, baby, but not until you're awake 
enough to enjoy it!" 

Jane felt as though a hundred thousand pounds were holding her down. She had 
to fight, tearing piece by piece the black layers which surrounded her, and 
using every ounce of her strength to force her eyelids open. She managed to 
open them just a crack, and that first burst of light sent stabbing pains 
through her head. She let them drop and then forced them open again. For 
what seemed like an eternity she kept her eyes open without moving a muscle 
in her body. She was on her back in what looked like a tent, the white silk 
folds of the ceiling staring down at her. She tried to turn on her side, but 
her muscles refused to obey her mind. Her arms were like dead weights at her 
sides. Jane's body felt like it was floating in a giant tank of soft fur. 
She closed her eyes, trying to remember what had happened to her, but her 
mind went sailing off in a dozen different directions at one time. She saw 
the eyes of the fifteen-year-old boy she had testified against. They watched 
her, moved closer and bored into her body. Those searching, searing eyes! 
The orphanage! The ruler singing through the air and cutting into the skin 
on her soft buttocks, all because she hadn't made her bed properly! The man 
who swore he would get her when the judge sentenced him to five years in 
prison for selling marijuana. His wife crying as the judge pronounced police 
had framed him to make headlines. The shrieks and the eyes became one, 
ripping and gouging Jane's body. 

Drifting in and out of consciousness, Jane struggled to grip the reality of 
where she was. If she could just grasp it and hold on. Move away from the 
terror in the hidden regions of her mind! 

Then, slowly, a semblance of strength coursed through her body. Jane could 
move her fingers, her toes, even her arm. Her body was heavy, but with 
effort she could move. She turned partially on her side. The red velvet 
walls frightened her, but by gripping the fur on the bed she managed to hold 
and keep from spinning in the black void that kept reaching for her. She saw 
that she was on a large circular bed, the biggest bed she had ever seen. 
Jane ran her fingers slowly through the fur cover, a pleasing, warm 
sensation flowing through her. It was white and reminded her of a hospital. 
Was she in a hospital? Why was her body so heavy? Why couldn't she move? 
Even her vision was blurred. Things would be sharp and then drop out of 
focus. 

A door at the end of the room opened. Jane saw a nice-looking man come in 
and close the door behind him. Even through her blurred vision she was 
certain it was Peter. Thank God! But why was he naked? Looking down her 
body, Jane realized that she too was naked. She tried to scream, "Peter, 
come help me," but nothing came from her lips, not even a murmur. 

Mark stopped a few feet from the circular bed and stood looking down at the 
naked girl before him. He involuntarily drew his breath as he stared at the 
unbelievable sight before him. Mark had fucked his share of women, but never 
anything like this! Those tits of hers are like marble globes topped with 
ripe strawberries. Her legs are perfectly formed, tapering to her delicate 
feet. And that cunt! Pink lips crested with soft, golden hair! 

Her face looked so innocent Mark for a moment felt sorry for her. But then 
he remembered just what this bitch had done to thousands of people, who, 
like him, were convicted felons cut loose from society to drift in hopeless 
despair. His resolve hardened along with his blood-filled cock as he climbed 
on the giant bed. "Peter...." 

No, you stupid bitch, I'm not Peter, Mark thought, but I have a peter here 
that is aching to sink all the way up into your belly! He pushed her flat on 
her back and kneeled over her, his knees rubbing against her ribs. Grabbing 
one glove in each hand, Mark began kneading the soft, white flesh of her 
tits. Her eyes were open and staring into his. 

"No, Peter, we mustn't. It's not nice!" 

Ignoring her, Mark lowered his throbbing cock and rested it between her 
breasts. With the thumb and forefinger of the right hand he reached over and 
pushed her tits tighter against the swollen prick between them, beginning a 
slow fucking movement by thrusting his hips back and forth gently. His other 
hand moved over the magnificent breasts, tweaking the nipples between his 
fingers until he could feel them hardening under his caressing. Jane's body 
moved under him, just slightly, but enough to let him know that he was 
reaching her sensual being. He kept sliding his rigid cock between her 
breasts, little beads of moisture leaving a moist, sticky trail on the pure 
white skin of her valley. He felt his balls rub against her skin and the 
tickling sensation made his passion rise. 

Jane was only vaguely aware of what was happening to her. She couldn't 
understand what Peter was doing to her, but it felt so nice, so warm and 
exciting! That hard thing between her breasts gave her a delicious feeling. 
It throbbed and she imagined that she could feel Peter's heart beating 
through it. 

The itch between her legs was maddening! She ground her thighs together to 
try to rub it away, but that only made the itch worse. Jane lifted her hand 
and reached to the secret region between her legs. She knew Peter wouldn't 
mind. It wasn't nice, but when you itched like she did you had to scratch 
it! Her groping fingers had just found their target when her hand was 
roughly pushed away. 

"I'll take care of that for you," Mark said, shifting his position so that 
he was now straddling her body in the opposite direction. 

He inserted his hands between the creamy white skin of her tightly clasped 
thighs and pulled them apart roughly. Jane moaned as he forced her thighs 
even wider apart, using his elbows to hold them in an obscenely unnatural 
position so that her entire cunt and ass were opened wide before his probing 
eyes. His fingers ran through the soft, silky hair that was now moist from 
her desire. Pulling her cunt open wide, Mark ran his finger around the inner 
edge of her now puffy lips. Jane's body moved, her hips thrusting up to open 
her crotch even more for this foreign invasion of her most intimate region. 
Teasing her tiny, erect clitoris, Mark goaded her on. He flicked the top of 
her clitoris with the end of his finger, sending a sensation through Jane's 
body she had never experienced before. 

Jane felt like there was a fire between her legs. She opened her eyes wide 
and was startled to see Mark's trim buttocks staring at her. He was kneeling 
on top of her, his balls hanging down and rubbing against her belly, his 
asshole, partially covered with black hair, plainly in view. Was this Peter? 
What was he doing to her down there? She closed her eyes and let the pure, 
sensual pleasure engulf her. 

Mark jabbed his finger up her cunt, sinking it to the first joint. It was 
warm and moist, the fluids beginning to run wild in her body, but it was 
also very tight. He felt the inner folds of her cunt cover the end of his 
finger and pull it, almost sucking it up inside her. 

Jane's body heaved, trying to free itself from the pain of this foreign 
intrusion. "Ooh!" she moaned as he pressed it up to his second joint, moving 
it not too gently in circles to prepare the way for what was to come later. 
"Uugghh! That hurts," she cried. Mark moved an inch for better leverage and 
calmly sunk his finger to the hilt in her pulsating cunt. With a quick wrist 
motion he began fucking her unmercifully with his finger, ramming it to the 
hilt and pulling all the way back. He felt something obstructing his path 
and rammed even deeper, pushing the tip of his finger against the enflamed 
membrane. On his third heave it broke and blood trickled down his fingers. 

Jane's body squirmed helplessly against his vicious onslaught. Even in her 
semi-conscious state the pain was unbearable! Why was he doing this to her? 
Just because she had tried to scratch herself? Then a shooting pain, far 
greater than the others, ripped through her belly and up to her head. Why 
didn't he stop! He would kill her! "Ooh! Pleeaase! You're tearing me in 
half! Pleeaase! Oh, God, please stoppp!" 

"Shut up, you Bible Belt Bitch! I haven't even started on you yet!" 

Mark let his finger run across her brown starfish, puckered tightly against 
an intrusion. Moistening his finger in her wet cunt, he sipped it back and 
pressed the tip of it against her asshole. It was tight and held against the 
invasion, but Mark kept wetting the tip of his finger in her cunt and 
working it against the tight little anus until it expanded and his finger 
popped inside. He slipped his thumb in her cunt and pressed it against the 
wall until he could feel his other finger up her ass. With a slow, sawing 
motion, he began fUcking her from two angles. He then lowered his body and 
ran his purple-veined cock along her belly, aiming at her belly button and 
sinking the head of his swollen member into it as if it was another hole. 

The pain was gradually giving way to a new sensation and Jane found her body 
moving in anticipation of the thrusts invading her. She could feel the 
beginnings of a boiling desire inside her, but Jane didn't understand it. 
Her muscles were coming back and her body felt lighter, but Peter had 
control of her body now. What was wrong with her? Why didn't she stop what 
he was doing to her? Was this all a dream, one of her nightmares? 

Mark felt a hot, searing passion coursing through his body. His cock was 
trying to dig into her belly and he could feel his balls swelling as they 
filled with the thick come he would shoot far up inside her. He raised 
himself and changed into a kneeling position between her legs, his wet, 
sticky cock waving at her, his cruel fingers probing the inner depths of her 
wide open cunt. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her knees into the air, 
pressing them down on her breasts. He wedged his body against hers until her 
ankles were resting on his shoulders, her gaping cunt open and surging 
toward him. 

Jane looked down between her breasts at her exposed vagina with the 
glistening, swollen penis aimed at it. For a moment, she couldn't believe it 
was happening to her. Then she screamed. "Noo! Please don't! Noo! You 
can't!" 

Mark took his surging rod in his hand and began running the throbbing head 
around the outer edges of her cunt. He moved it back and forth, up and down, 
without letting it sink into her. Jane's body squirmed helplessly, but she 
couldn't move. Mark dipped the head of his cock into the blonde curls that 
encased her pink-lipped cunt, ran it back and forth across her clitoris and 
up and down the narrow slit. His balls ached for release, but he held 
himself in rigid control, savoring the moment when he would sink his member 
deep into her white belly. 

Jane ran her tongue across her lips. The sweet torture he was putting her 
through was something she never knew existed. How could anything feel so 
good and yet be evil? She had regained complete consciousness now and knew 
what was happening to her. It was a moment she had half-dreaded all her 
life, and now it was happening with a complete stranger. She knew he wasn't 
Peter, and she wondered why he had tried to deceive her like that. She 
wanted to stop him, but deep within her she knew that she had to have that 
penis of his buried deep in her vagina. He had started a fire, a fire she 
couldn't control! She watched him move his hips for leverage and then thrust 
forward with a mighty heave. 

"Aagh!" she screamed as he sunk his cock all the way up her. She felt as 
though her body was being torn down the middle and that she would be ripped 
in half from that giant penis imbedded deep in her middle. The fiery 
plunging rod felt as though it was coming all the way through her, through 
her belly, up her chest, and through her throat. As it plunged against her 
cervix, Jane's head swung back and forth on the fur cover. 

Mark looked down and could see his curly black pubic hair tangled tightly 
with the blonde curls where their sexes met, the base of his thick cock 
buried deep into the pink throbbing furrow. He could see the tight lips of 
the cunt stretched almost to the bursting point, the rubbery outer pink rim 
clasping tightly around the tan skinned base of his prick. He thrust his 
hands under her hips, cupping the pliant globes and pulling her ass even 
higher. 

Mark held her there for a moment, enjoying the spectacle of the proud, 
vriginal, Bible Belt Bitch impaled helplessly under him with his prick 
buried deep in her proud little cunt. How he'd love to have the newspapers 
see their brave little crusader now, wriggling her tight little ass and 
jerking her virginal crotch to get an extra inch of hot cock up her! 
Wouldn't they enjoy that! 

Jane's body was moving from instinct now. Her crotch muscles tightened and 
she began flexing it. An indescribable feeling was surging through her body. 
The walls of her cringing cunt clasped around the thick cock inside her like 
it was a glove. She could feel its rough fleshy ridges as her nerve ends 
transmitted its monstrous form in minute details to her rapidly clearing 
mind. It was alive inside her, alive and hot and demanding! The tickling 
hairs of his balls dangling in the crevice of her ass were now part of her. 
The pain was still there, but now it was mingling with a strong desire which 
was strange to her being. Her lips felt dry, and she ran her tongue back and 
forth to moisten them. 

Her cunt contracted, grabbing Mark's sliding piston and holding it tight in 
the folds of flesh inside her passionate box. Jane couldn't believe that it 
was her body reacting this way! Was she truly a frustrated sex maniac as one 
man had told her several years ago? Could this really be her? She hated the 
man invading her, and she hated herself for giving in to the weakness of her 
flesh! 

Mark felt her cunt contract and squeeze his cock. He had been waiting for 
her to respond, waiting for the animal nature which he knew every woman 
possessed to come out. He stopped, held his body still, kept his cock sunk 
deeply inside her and let her contraction pull him deeper. He flexed his 
cock gently, expanding it inside her, but still not moving his body. He 
waited a moment and then flexed it again, watching her face contort as she 
felt his cock swell and completely fill her cunt. Jane closed her eyes to 
avoid looking into his. Her head began slowly swaying back and forth, her 
tongue racing across her lips with each turn. 

Mark didn't move, his stillness serving him in two ways: the torture it gave 
her yearning cunt, and the time he needed to gain control. The perfection of 
her body, the beauty of her face, and the punishment he was inflicting on an 
old enemy combined to make Mark hotter than he could ever remember being. 
And now the wantonness of her sex-starved body was driving him wild. 

All thoughts vanished from Jane's mind. Her body became all demanding. That 
penis inside her was her reason for being at the moment. Nothing was more 
important to her than this very moment! 

Gradually, Mark began moving his cock into the skewered girl beneath him. He 
smiled as the muffled grunts of pleasure began pushing out from behind her 
partched lips. Jane's hips began a slow, involuntary roll beneath the 
throbbing rod that had her impaled. Mark clenched his teeth tightly to keep 
control as he felt her hungry crotch screwing itself up tighter against his 
pubic hair. 

Jane's body came to life, dropping all pretenses. The pain was fast 
receding. An electric tingling sensation deep within her womb creeped 
relentlessly through the raw nerve ends of her flesh. It raced through her 
cunt and made the gaping lips quiver. She ground her clitoris against Mark's 
pelvis, delighting in the combination of pain and pleasure the movement 
produced. The new sensation flooded her body, reaching even the strawberry 
tips of her breasts. They felt like they were on fire as she pressed them 
against her knees. Tiny rivers of sweat formed between her tits and on her 
forehead, running down her body and sprinkling the fur cover. 

Fuck! A four-letter word she had always detested, but it ran through her 
mind. Fuck! That was what she wanted! But she'd never give him the pleasure 
of hearing her say it. 

She rotated her hips slowly, pulling Mark's prick with her as her vagina 
dilated and contracted. It felt as if she was staked to the bed, the rigid 
cock being the stake that held her down. 

Mark was having trouble controlling himself. Those muscles in her cunt were 
nibbling hungrily at the blood-filled head of his prick. He watched the 
blonde crested pink slit pull tantalizingly up the shaft of his cock several 
inches and then nibble its way slowly back down, tangling their contrasting 
pubic hair and sinking his surging cock deep inside her white belly. Mark 
let her do all the work, her quivering cunt moving relentlessly up and down 
his mighty shaft, watching the slow withdrawal between them, the soft, pink 
ridges of her cunt pulling out as she screwed her pelvis down into the bed. 
Then the soft folds disappeared inside her cunt as she jerked her hips up to 
grind her clitoris against his pelvis. 

He let her strain against him for a while, enjoy-the utter abandon of her 
excited movements. 

"Somebody should have slipped the rod to you a long time ago, baby. You're a 
hot bitch in heat! You want the full measure of this cock rammed up inside 
you now?" 

"Yes!" 

"Tell me!" 

"Oh, please!" 

"Tell me!" 

"Give it to me! Please! Give it to me as hard as you can!" 

Mark pulled his cock out to the very edge of her cunt, then rammed it in as 
hard as he knew how. His balls flapped against her ass as he let his 
momentum build up. 

"Ooh! God! More, please, more!" she screamed between clenched teeth. 
"Faster! Harder! Oohh!" 

Mark culd feel her straining to climax. Juices began flowing through her 
wildly pulsating vagina, and a wet, sucking sound was coming loudly from 
their union. He fought for control, wanting to hold back and save his climax 
for a second torture after she had hers. He buried his cock deep inside her 
belly, moving it like a steam-driven piston. Her hips were moving fast, 
bucking against him wildly. 

Mark almost went beserk as Jane's body began vibrating completely out of 
control. He felt her cunt contract with full force, and the wet, white come 
covered his cock and oozed down the heated passage, its warm liquid matting 
their pubic hair and trickling down his leg and over his aching balls. 

Pushing her knees up to her ears, Mark rolled her into a tight ball impaled 
on his cock. He withdrew to the outer edge and then began ramming it with 
deadly accuracy into her deep womb. His body dropped down heavily on hers, 
mashing her tits against his hairy chest, her hard nipples bearing into his 
skin. He held her head in his hands and planted his lips full on hers as his 
cock churned into her belly. Swiftly, Mark reached around behind her and 
jabbed his finger into her tight anus. At the same time he forced her teeth 
apart and sank his tongue into her hot mouth. 

The triple invasion of her body raised Jane to a new level of excitement. 
Her tongue found his and she began sucking it deeper into her mouth. His 
probing finger in her ass was rubbing against the thin wall that separated 
it from his lunging cock, and Jane felt her body go into convulsions from 
the mixture of pain and pleasure he was inflicting on her. 

Mark knew his moment was near. He could feel the hot white come bubbling in 
his aching balls flapping wildly against the cheeks of Jane's ass. He gave 
up all efforts to control himself now and plunged deep inside her hot cunt. 
He wanted to spurt his hot come deep into her belly, even as far as her 
throat. 

Jane felt him explode inside her, his come spewing through her cunt like hot 
lava. It flowed through her body like white fire, searing every raw nerve 
end and making her flesh burn. Before she knew what was happening, Jane felt 
her cunt answer Mark's explosion with one of its own. The milk-like juice 
poured from her hole, covered his balls and splashed on the fur. The thick 
mass covered their pubic hair and glued them together. 

Their nervous systems drained, both bodies collapsed. Moments passed before 
Mark had the strength to pull his limp prick out of her gaping cavern. When 
he did, it took a mighty heave to place him in a sitting position on the 
edge of the round bed. 

The demands of her body satiated, Jane's mind took command of her being. She 
raised her body painfully to a position where she leaned on her elbow and 
looked directly into Mark's eyes. 

"What are you going to do to me? Where am I? Why? Can I leave now that 
you've satisfied your animal lust on me?" 

Mark looked at her, enjoying her obvious discomfort. Her hauty, proud nature 
had returned, and Mark regretted he had not made her suffer more. 

"Jane Horner," he said, "you've been fucked! You should thank God for that! 
At least you now know a part of what it is to be a woman. No, you can't 
leave. Not until we're through with you, and that could be a very long 
time." 

Mark stood up and walked to the door. 

"You bastard!" Jane screamed at him, shocked at her use of such profane 
language. 

"I have no doubts about my parentage. How about you?" he flung over his 
shoulder at her as he left the room and closed the door. 

Jane collapsed, an hysterical sobbing gripping her entire body. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

"Your performance wasn't very outstanding." 

"You watched?" 

"Naturally. I haven't tasted the sweeteness of your cock yet, remember? I 
thought I'd have a preview so I would know what to expect." 

Mark looked into Consuela's eyes to see if she was mocking him. Her gaze was 
steady and he decided she was being perfectly honest. 

"I'm much better than that," he said moving to the edge of the gazebo and 
letting his eyes relax on the beauty of the grounds. The entire affair with 
Jane Horner had bothered him since he left her in the Game Room. In his mind 
he was trying to sort his thoughts and understand his attitude. 

"I wasn't myself," he continued without looking at Consuela. "I don't even 
know why I did it. It was a sordid form of rape." 

"Don't tell me you feel guilty about fucking that little blonde? What's the 
matter, does it offend your sense of nobility?" 

"She's a human being, you know. What right did I have to do that to her? Oh, 
I don't know, Consuela, I'm just all mixed up about it. I enjoyed screwing 
her, but somehow I feel it was wrong." 

"What happened to the Mark Wilson who told me all about the innocent people 
Miss Jane Horner had persecuted? She ruined their lives because she wanted 
everybody to be exactly like her. That's what you said, isn't it?" 

"Yes, and it's true! The goody-goodies of this world won't be satisfied 
until they've made everybody exactly like they are, mean, unhappy, 
frustrated and too busy fighting life to enjoy it. They've a tradition of 
burning at the stake or hanging anyone who just happens to be a little 
different than they are." 

Mark stopped for a moment, stared into space, and then turned to face 
Consuela. 

"Maybe that's it. We hate them for sticking their noses into our business, 
and for trying to change us. Don't you see? That's exactly what we're doing 
to Jane Horner! We're doing to her just what we object to her doing to 
us...." 

Consuela studied him for a minute and smiled. 

"I was right! You're fighting your own nobility! I haven't had much 
education, Mark, but let me give you some advice. Nobility is fine for those 
who can afford it, and there are damned few of them in this world. The rest 
of us have to be practical, and Avillo Guzman never makes a move that isn't 
practical!" 

Consuela turned away, looking into the garden and avoiding Mark's eyes. A 
hard look came over her face. 

"I can tell you this," she continued, her voice low and charged. "This is no 
place for a conscience. I gave mine up long ago. I live for the moment, and 
I don't make any pretenses about it. I like my life. I want money and power 
just like Jane Horner does. Down deep, that's what makes her what she is." 
Consuela turned to look at Mark, the hardness gone from her face and a smile 
crossing her lips. "You want some more advice?" 

"If it's free," Mark countered. 

"Don't kid yourself about that either, Mark. Nothing in this life is free. 
You pay for everything you get, one way or another. I just wanted to warn 
you not to think like a hero and try to rescue your Jane Horner...." 

A deep laugh burst from Mark's chest, the low pitch sound carrying halfway 
across the grounds. 

"Up till then, Consuela, you had me pegged pretty well. I was beginning to 
wonder if you weren't a psychiatrist in disguise. But, sweetheart, I'm no 
hero. I detest everything Jane Horner stands for, and she'd be the last 
woman on earth I'd rescue from anything. If my conscience gets the best of 
me, the most I'll do is walk away and forget it." 

Avillo Guzman and Dr. Gorman walked slowly across the lawn approaching the 
gazebo. They were in deep discussion and hardly noticed Mark and Consuela 
until they were almost upon them. 

"Oh, Mark, I'm glad I found you," Guzman said, taking a seat at the table 
and waiting for the others to join him. "I have a task for you. I want you 
to find out everything you can about Miss Homer's organization. Find out if 
there's a staff meeting or something of that sort planned in the near 
future. You know, something where they pull in all their key people from the 
various areas. If not, how can one be arranged? You may have to fly up 
there, but I don't think that'll be necessary right away. Call Joe in Omaha 
and Ed in Chicago. Tell them to get right on it and give it top priority. 
What we want is a meeting of the key people, the ones who do all the work 
and get the rank and file excited." 

"Yes, sir!" Mark said, his mind racing to evaluate what this was all about. 

"I'm letting Paco teach Miss Homer some of the refinements of sex in about 
an hour, and I'm sure it'll be an interesting show. You and Consuela must 
join us to watch." 

"I wouldn't miss it for anything," said Consuela. 

Mark left the gazebo and headed for the communications center on an errand 
he didn't entirely understand. 

Jane found the large, tile bathroom at the end of the Game Room. Her legs 
were not sure of themselves, but the effects of the drug had worn off and 
she was in control of herself. Splashing cold water in her face, Jane was 
certain she had been drugged. It had to have been Connie, she told herself, 
and that pill she had taken at breakfast. But why? What was this all about? 
Who was that man who had brought such pain and pleasure to her body? Why had 
he done it? 

Questions raced through her brain as she took a steaming hot shower, the 
water relaxing her tense body. Getting out of the shower, Jane saw that 
there were only small hand-towels on the rack. She used three of them to dry 
herself and then returned to the Game Room with its bizarre decor. Being 
naked bothered her more than anything else. She looked around and discovered 
there was not a thing she could use to cover her body. 

The door at the end of the room opened and a woman, obviously a maid, 
entered with a covered tray. She placed the tray on the small table at the 
entrance and left before Jane could even say a word. 

A spicy, delicious aroma reached Jane. She crossed the room and lifted the 
cover from the tray. Delicate lobster tails with a cup of lemon-butter 
sauce, a small but very thick filet steak with tiny mushrooms caps, a shrimp 
cocktail, steaming string beans topped with sliced almonds, a large salad, 
warm rolls and piping hot coffee greeted her. The beautifully arrayed 
gourmet dishes reminded her that she was famished, and Jane attacked the 
food ravenously. She gave herself entirely over to enjoying the food, 
something she seldom did. She had always been a dainty eater. Food had just 
never interested Jane, but now she was eating like she had never eaten 
before, savoring each bite and allowing her taste buds to delight in an orgy 
of their own. 

Time hung on her back like a heavy weight. It had been hours since anything 
had happened. The maid had entered the room, picked up the tray and left 
without uttering a word. Jane walked the room like a caged tigress, her 
nerves on raw edge. Once the thought struck her that she hadn't tried to 
escape, that she hadn't even tried the door to see if it was locked, and she 
raced to it and pulled on the handle with all her might, falling on her 
knees and sobbing when she found it locked tightly. Another time, certain 
she could get help by letting someone know she was a prisoner, she raced to 
the door and began pounding on it and screaming at the top of her lungs. She 
again sank to her knees, her voice hoarse from screaming and a sob racking 
her body. Her energy gone, Jane crawled back to the bed, pulled herself up, 
stretched out and fell into a deep, relaxing sleep. 

Jane came awake suddenly when she heard the door at the end of the room 
open. Paco and another man stood there looking at her. Jane's hands 
instinctively made an attempt to cover her breasts and the golden pubic 
region between her thighs. The men laughed and moved forward. They pulled 
one of the narrow beds covered in black fur from along the wall and placed 
it directly in front of the long, floor-to-ceiling mirror. 

Jane felt a terror shoot through her stomach as two hands grabbed her ankles 
in a steel grip. The evil leer on Paco's face as he took her wrists and 
lifted her from the bed chilled Jane. They dumped her on the narrow bed, 
pulling nylon ropes from beneath the bed and tying her in a spreadeagled 
position. Her hands and feet were at the four corners of the bed, held 
securely by the ropes. She quickly learned that any move to free herself, to 
pull away, would cruelly punish the muscles in her shoulders and back. 

Paco signaled the other man and he grasped Jane's hips and lifted them from 
the bed. Paco pulled a thick cushion from beneath the bed and placed it 
under Jane's buttocks, raising her crotch obscenely above the rest of her 
body. Jane groaned. The position was uncomfortable, straining her back and 
making her feel more helpless than she had ever felt in her life. Paco and 
the other man stood at her feet, looking straight up her legs and at the 
quivering pink regions of her cunt now exposed by her widespread thighs. 
Jane shuddered as she saw Paco wet his lips, a tiny drop of saliva oozing 
from the corner of his mouth. He said something to the other man who turned 
and left the room. 

Paco moved to the large bed and began taking off his clothes. He unbuttoned 
his shirt and slipped it off, the odor from his scarred, misshapen body 
wafting across to permeate Jane's nostrils. She felt nausea grip her belly 
as she realized that this stinking, grotesque man was going to violate her 
body. She shuddered and fought back the nausea that was threatening to bring 
everything in her stomach up to her throat. 

She watched him sit on the edge of the bed and pull his shoes off, then 
stand and unbuckle his pants. Jane tried to pull her eyes away from him-he 
was so ugly, so grotesque, so horrible-but she couldn't. Her eyes were 
riveted to his scarred body. Paco's pants dropped to the floor and Jane's 
eyes dilated. Her nostrils flared and a scream caught in her throat when she 
saw his gigantic, rigid cock staring at her. The shaft was dark tan, purple 
veins standing out like ridges along it. The head was a gray-brown, tipped 
by a touch of pink, and inflated to a size Jane had never dreamed possible. 

Involuntarily, Jane's mouth gaped open, the lips pulling back over her 
teeth. The scream, still caught in her throat, left a dry, parched tongue 
lolling about. My God, she thought, he's going to put that telephone pole up 
me! He'll kill me! He'll tear my insides out! 

"Noooo!" It came, not as a scream but more of a low groan from deep within 
Jane's body. 

Paco looked at the lush blonde body spread-eagled before him. The pink slit 
stretched wide under its covering of golden hair and her crotch angled to 
the ceiling. Her full, round tits with their red-pointed tips heaving as she 
gasped for breath tantalized him. The creamy white skin and pale golden hair 
framed against the black fur of the bed sent desire racing through his 
loins. Like most Latins, Paco's desire doubled at the prospect of fucking a 
blonde. And Jane was a true blonde, something he had seen only once before. 

He took his rigid prick in his left hand and stroked it as he walked around 
the bed surveying the terrified girl. Her head followed his every move, her 
eyes unable to move from his swollen member. Paco knew that she was gripped 
in terror, and he was savoring every moment he made her suffer in 
anticipation. He was going to humiliate her, punish her, in every way he 
knew. She would never forget what he would do to her. Never! He would stuff 
his prick up her cunt until it came out her mouth. He would stretch that 
blonde cunt until it bled, pound his balls against her ass until it was 
black and blue. But all in good time. First he would make her beg to be 
fucked, and before that he would explore her body, let her know that she was 
his slave! 

Without his shoes, Paco's limp was even more grotesque. He seemed to 
half-hobble, half-bounce from place to place. His right hand, held close to 
his body by the bad elbow, was used to balance himself against the edge of 
the bed. His left hand held his rigid cock, twelve inches of surging 
manhood, thick, inflated, the purple veins folding under his hand as he 
moved the skin back and forth. He stood at the end of the bed, holding his 
cock an inch or two above Jane's nose and stroking it while her 
terror-stricken eyes watched it in fascination. The pungent odor from his 
moist, glistening cock made Jane's nostrils flare, her throat constrict in 
an effort to hold back the nausea that again surged through her body. 

Jane could tell he hadn't bathed in days. Sweat and dirt were caked in 
little patches on his chest, his arms and his legs. The odor was 
overpowering. She tried to stop breathing through her nose, but the foul 
smell permeated her entire body. 

A thick, clear liquid began oozing from the large hole in the head of his 
prick. Paco ran his hand along the shaft faster, until the entire head of 
his cock was covered with small drops of the lubricating fluid. This was one 
thing he had planned for the gringo bitch and he couldn't resist the 
humiliation it would give her. He worked his hand furiously, building a 
light foam at the end of his inflated rod, and leaned forward to dip the 
head into each of her eyes and along the edge of her nose. 

Looking down directly into her face, he could see small rivulets run slowly 
down from the corners of her eyes on either side. They dribbled like tears 
down the sides of her face, leaving slick, glistening tracks as they ran 
across her smooth white cheeks. Drops ran from the ridge of her nose down 
over the flared nostrils and to her pink lips. Then he thrust his hips 
forward and lodged the head of his cock in her ear, working the shaft with 
his hand and leaving a trail of thick come there. 

Jane's whole body shuddered as she felt the sticky substance running over 
her face, in her ears, down her cheeks. She felt like she had just walked 
through a cobweb covered with thick, oozing glue, but there was nothing she 
could do to clean her face. He body arched and strained, but the bounds held 
her tight. Involuntarily, she opened her mouth to bite her hp. A drop of 
sticky come fell across her lip and onto her teeth. She moved her tongue to 
guard her mouth and tasted the salty, sickening Uquid that had oozed from 
his filthy cock. 

"I'd rather be dead than this!" she screamed. "Why don't you kill me and get 
it over with? Please, kill me!" 

"If I kill you," he said sarcastically, "it'll be with this!" He took his 
cock and slapped her cheek with its swollen head, leaving a trail of 
moisture as he glided it off and moved around the bed. 

On the other side of the bed, Paco stopped for a moment and waved his cock 
against her ripe, red nipple, then grabbed her breast and cruelly kneaded it 
in his hand. The soft, white flesh gave under the pressure of his rough 
fingers as he squeezed her tit like he would a rubber ball. Jane gritted her 
teeth at the rough handling of her sensitive breast. The pain was mixed with 
excitement, a tingling of pleasure as she felt his sandpaper touch rub 
across her nipple. As suddenly as he began, Paco stopped. Grabbing the edge 
of the bed for support and balance, he hobbled to the end where Jane's 
small, delicate, pink feet were pointed at the ceiling. 

He looked up between her legs at her exposed crotch and felt his pulse 
quicken. The pink lips of her cunt seemed to be calling to him. He hoisted 
his deformed body up on the bed and crouched on all fours as he crawled 
between her unresisting, milky-white thighs until his face was just inches 
from her raised cunt. 

Jane watched him, looking between her breasts and over her raised abdomen. 
He was crouched on all four like an animal, his arms on the outside of her 
legs and his mouth directly over her vagina Watching him lick his lips and 
seeing trails of saliva run from the corners of his mouth made Jane want to 
vomit. My God, she thought, he's no more than an animal-a beast! She closed 
her eyes to shut out the vision of the drooling face just above her vagina. 

"You'll open your eyes, gringo bitch!" he spit at her. "And you'll beg in a 
few minutes. Oh, yes, you'll beg!" 

Paco let his eyes feast on her dry cunt, spreading the lips wide apart with 
his fingers. The saliva from his drooling mouth fell into the pink opening. 
Slowly, savoring the delicious smell of her ripe cunt, Paco lowered his 
head. His tongue darted out of his mouth and buried itself just below the 
lips of her pink slit. Paco licked, then drew his tongue back in his mouth 
to taste the sweetness of her sex. He darted his tongue out again, this time 
enjoying the tickling sensation as his rough tongue ran through the soft 
blonde hair of her pussy. Then, slowly and methodically, Paco began running 
his tongue along the inner edges of her lips. He flattened his tongue and 
lapped her whole cunt with one long stroke, much like a cow licks salt. On 
the third stroke that way, he felt her clitoris come to life. The little 
button of flesh quivered at first, then grew and became erect. With the tip 
of his tongue he began teasing the end of her hard clitoris. His head moved 
forward and his lips sucked the seat of her desire, drawing the warm soft 
folds deep into the hot cavern of his mouth, all the while his tongue 
continuing its relentless attack against the straining pink bud of her sex. 

Jane tried to make her body rigid at first. She wanted to paralyze herself, 
freeze what he was doing out of her mind and away from her body. Then, 
despite herself, Jane felt her body begin to respond as his hot, searing 
tongue moved inside her. She felt him pull the outer flesh of her vagina 
into her mouth, his teeth nibbling at her clitoris. 

"Ooh!" she moaned as he pulled her clitoris between his rough lips and began 
sucking hard on it. Jane groaned huskily from deep in her throat as his hot 
tongue worked its way up and down her narrow wet slit, starting at the lower 
belly and pressing its way down, down over the elastic -rimmed opening of 
her clasping vagina and into the crevice of her flexing, strained buttocks 
where it stopped momentarily to do a wet probing of the tight brown 
throbbing hole. "Ooh!" she gasped as she felt his tongue dart in and probe 
her asshole and then shoot up over her skin and skin into the depths of her 
vagina. 

She felt her crotch flex upward to open wider as she was now gripped in a 
passion she couldn't believe. All thoughts of how repulsive Paco was flew 
from her mind and the only thought she had was of his swift, searing, 
darting tongue and what it was doing to her! Her body had become a boiling 
mass of desire. 

Paco worked hungrily, feeling her soft, golden pubic hair brushing against 
his cheeks as he darted his tongue in and out of her cunt. He knew he had 
the gringo bitch hot now! Her juices were pouring into her cunt, swirling 
around his tongue and dripping out onto his chin. In a minute, when she was 
almost there, he'd have this proud bitch begging him for release. He 
increased his tempo, rubbing his upper hp against her erect and quivering 
clitoris while his tongue worked deep into her wet pussy. Then he stopped. 

Jane was in agony. She groaned and her body strained against the ropes that 
bound her. 

"Please!" she grunted. 

"Please what, gringo bitch?" 

"Please! Don't stop! Not now!" 

"You want your rotten cunt licked?" 

Jane nodded her head. 

"Say it!" 

"Please don't stop!" 

"Say it! Say you want your rotten cunt licked!" 

"Please. Oh, yes, please! Lick me! Don't stop now!" 

Having her beg shot lust through Paco's body. His cock jerked, rubbing its 
blood-inflated head against the soft black fur cover on the bed. He dipped 
his head and let his tongue taste the salty sweetness of her open cunt once 
more. His tongue thrust deep inside her yawning crack, bringing a low 
guttural moan from deep in her throat. "Ah!" she moaned over and over. He 
could feel the wet flesh slip moistly along his extended tongue as the walls 
of Jane's invaded vagina opened and closed in a loud sucking noise. He felt 
her muscles tighten and try to pull his tongue deeper and deeper into her 
well of passion. It felt as though the nibbling, hard-lined mouth would pull 
his tongue out by its very roots and devour it alive! The end of his nose 
was mashed hard against her tiny pink clitoris, the lips of her cunt pulling 
over it as he dug deeper and deeper with his hot probing tongue. The juices 
of her lust filled his mouth and nostrils, cutting his breath off. 

Jane was completely lost in her passion. No other thought than to have him 
deeper and deeper inside the fire he had created between her legs crossed 
her mind. She had never known that anything like this could be so demanding, 
so all consuming! Her flesh was on fire, and the boiling juices in her 
vagina were surging through her body. Disregarding the pain to her muscles 
and back, she arched her body to bring him even further inside her. Suddenly 
he stopped. 

"Pleaseee! Don't Stop! Lick me! Lick me!" she cried. 

Paco pulled himself up on his knees, a grinding aching pain searing into his 
entrails from the heavy sack which cased its two bloated pears below his 
inflated cock. He was so hot he couldn't contain himself any longer. He had 
to fuck this gringo bitch now or he would dump his load on the bed. 

"Shut up!" he growled at her as he positioned himself above her. "If you 
want that fire in your greedy cunt put out, beg me to do it with this!" He 
rubbed the tip of his giant cock against the lips of her cunt, running the 
head up to her clitoris and pressing against it with a slight thrust of his 
hips. 

"Do you want to be fucked, bitch!" 

His language, his odor, his grotesque body, everything about him repelled 
Jane. But she had to have it in her. The fire was too hot! His tongue had 
done its work well. Her belly screamed for him. She had to have him! 

"Yes! Yes! Please! Now, do it now!" 

Paco grinned at her and ran his pulsating prick up and down her narrow slit. 
Her lips seemed to grab at it, trying to pull it inside her. It was all he 
could do not to lunge forward now and impale this squirming bitch on his 
aching cock. But first he wanted to tease her, punish her for the shit she 
had poured on him with her snotty looks and attitude at the airport. She'd 
beg, all right! And then he would split her wide open! 

In the small room behind the mirror, Dr. Gorman, Avillo Guzman, Consuela and 
Mark watched Paco torture Jane Horner. 

"It'll take her a few days to recover when Paco gets through with her," said 
Dr. Groman, a smile creasing his face. 

"Yes, I expect we'll have to let her rest for a day or two after this," 
Guzman replied. "He's only begun, though. After she has the full treatment, 
I don't think we'll have any trouble with her at all." 

"Have you made up your mind what we'll do with her?" Gorman asked. 

"We'll talk about it tonight." 

Consuela, imagining herself on the bed in Jane's place, had been rubbing her 
thighs together to try to quell the itch that had grown in her loins. A 
minute before, she had placed her hand in Mark's lap. Now she had his erect 
cock in her hand, rubbing it as they watched Paco run his giant member up 
and down Jane's cunt. She reached down, pulled the hem of her skirt up to 
her waist and guided Mark's hand between her hot thighs. Consuela never wore 
panties-it was a rule that she must always be ready for sex-and Mark's hand 
grasped a wet, quivering cunt. She scooted forward on the seat and forced 
his finger deep inside her. Her hips began jerking up and down as she 
watched the two bodies on the bed beyond the glass, all the time her hand 
rubbing Mark's cock. 

Consuela's passion grew to where she could no longer stand it. She reached 
out and grabbed Mark by the hair, roughly pulling him to the floor and 
forcing his head between her legs. Using both hands on the back of his head, 
she forced his head against her mound until her dripping wet cunt covered 
his face. 

"Eat it, Mark! I'll do the same for you later! Eat it. Please eat it!" 

Her eyes became glassy as Mark's tongue worked furiously in her hot cunt. 
She let out a little cry as she saw Paco draw his hips back for a lunge at 
Jane's wide open cunt. 

Jane's body was squirming on the bed, her hips trying to thrust upward and 
impale her on the cock that was teasing her. Paco looked down at her, his 
hatred and passion almost equal. Here's a cunt that really needs punishing, 
he told himself. All right, I'll punish her. I'll fuck her until she bleeds, 
until she can't even walk! 

He pushed the inflated head of his throbbing cock into the quivering 
entrance to her vagina, and with a mighty lunge sunk it as deep as it would 
go. 

"Aagh!" she screamed as the searing instrument ripped into her hot flesh. It 
was only then that Jane remembered the size of Paco's monstrous rod. Tears 
flowed from her eyes as she felt the walls of her vagina expanding to try to 
hold the surging cock inside her. It felt like her skin was ripping, bit by 
bit. The pain shot through her body and Jane was certain she was going to 
die. This must be worse than what a woman feels when she gives birth. Babies 
aren't as big as that penis in me now! 

"NO! Noo! I can't take it! No! Stop! Pull it out! You'll kill me! Ohh! 
Please!" 

Hearing her beg for mercy was music to Paco's ear. He looked down and saw 
that his cock had only been able to intrude her cunt by at the most two 
inches. Wiggling his hips and thrusting in jabs, he pushed it another inch 
inside her. He could feel the hot sucking flesh of her cunt wrapping itself 
around his cock, pulling and squeezing. He pushed forward another inch, 
giving her no quarter. Her hips went into convulsions, pushing, jerking, 
bending in a giant effort to free herself from the impalement. Paco lifted 
himself to a position where he could see his giant member invading her, the 
lips of her cunt stretched to the bursting point. A little trickle of blood 
mixed with come made a pink trail oozing from her cunt around his shaft. It 
went over his huge balls and down the cheek of her ass, giving Paco a great 
feeling of pleasure to know she was truly suffering under his onslaught 
against her proud pussy. 

Paco reached forward and took a bright red, taut nipple in his left hand, 
kneading it between his thumb and forefinger while he continued moving his 
surging rod in and out of the channel he had wedged in her cunt. Then, with 
a mighty heave, he fell on her, thrusting with his hips as hard as he could. 
His cock seemed stuck for a moment, and then it lunged into her so that he 
could feel the soft pubic hair on the lips of her vagina caressing the base 
of his shaft. 

"Uugghh!" she grunted as the hot probe was forced into her to the hilt. He's 
ripped out my entire insides, she thought! It must be in my belly now! As he 
began a slow sawing motion, pulling his cock out to where just the tip was 
sunk in her hole and then ramming it back to the very hilt with all his 
might, Jane thought she would faint. The pain was so intense every muscle in 
her body ached. It felt like the roll of skin just below the head of his 
cock was tearing the walls of her vagina each time it moved in and out. 

Paco was teasing her now, running his giant prick up and down slowly, 
feeling every inch of her cunt rub against it with every stroke. His huge 
balls bounced against her ass with a loud slapping noise as he increased his 
tempo. The nails of his fingers dug into her soft breasts as he tightened 
his hold and used the tit as a handle to give him more leverage. 

Gradually, the pain gave way to a new sensation in Jane's tortured body. The 
pain was still there, but now it was mixed with a something inside her 
demanding release. His cock probing deep into her belly had touched off a 
new chain of desire in Jane. Each time he cruelly rammed the tip of his rod 
against her cervix, it felt better. She couldn't understand it. It still 
hurt, almost unbearably, but now she wanted it to hurt. When Paco came down, 
placing his upper torso on top of her breasts, his pelvis ground against her 
enraged clitoris, sending a quiver of delight all through her body. 

Paco felt her respond, her hips swaying slightly and her breath coming 
quicker. He puUed himself up on her body and began pounding his swollen cock 
to her relentlessly. 

"Ohh! Ooh! God!" 

"You like to fuck, gringo bitch?" 

"Harder! Do it harder! Hurt me!" 

The control Paco had held so long left him. His hips flew above Jane's body, 
his balls flapped against her ass, his cock sunk even deeper into her white 
belly, his body became a rampaging piston flailing against her exposed, 
golden mound. A grunt escaped from his throat. He leaned down, forced his 
mouth on hers and jabbed his tongue deep into her throat. His breath was 
foul, but Jane's body was beyond reaction. She was all consumed with the 
fire deep inside her belly, and her only thought was to satisfy the demand 
eating away her insides. 

"Sweet Jesusss!" she cried as she felt him explode inside her, his cock 
spurting white, hot come all through her. Her own climax came with a gushing 
flow of her lust juice flowing down his shaft and over his balls, soaking 
the insides of her thighs, running down her crevice and wetting her anus and 
falling on the pillow below her buttocks. 

"It looks like Miss Horner is more passionate than we thought!" said Dr. 
Gorman, watching every move through the glass and listening to every grunt 
and groan over the speaker. 

"Indeed!" replied Guzman. "Most of the women I've seen Paco fuck like that 
fail to climax. They're too repelled by him and the pain from that mammoth 
weapon of his is usually too much for them. There's no doubt that Miss 
Horner had an orgasm, though. She may suit our purpose even better than I 
thought!" 

Mark was beyond wondering what that purpose was at this point. His face was 
still wet from Consuela's gushing climax, timed to be at the same moment she 
saw Jane and Paco reach theirs. He leaned back in his chair, Consuela 
perched on her knees between his spread legs pulling his rigid cock from his 
pants. He watched her take it in her hand and gently pull the skin down from 
the head. Seeing her gorgeous face, framed with the jet black hair cascading 
now to her shoulders, between his legs sent a thrill through Mark. Consuela 
ran her tongue across her ruby red lips, moistening them in anticipation of 
tasting the pale-skinned prick in her hand. Her tongue darted out, planting 
a kiss at the base of his shaft and then glided slowly upward until she 
wrapped it around the swollen head. She teased him by forcing the tip of her 
tongue down the narrow slot at the tip of his cock. Keeping it wedged there, 
she let her lips slide down and capture the head, sucking gently and pulling 
his entire cock into her warm mouth. 

Mark, suddenly aware that he had been oblivious to everything, glanced 
through the glass. He was surprised to see that Paco had evidently untied 
Jane, turned her over so that her belly was on the cushion and her buttocks 
raised high in the air, and retied her hands and feet. 

"Let's see how little Miss Horner likes this part of Paco's act!" Gorman 
said with a gleam in his eye. "This should literally tear her up!" 

Guzman, intent on the action before him, missed Gorman's attempt at humor. 
Mark, Consuela licking his cock like a candy bar, was beyond caring. 

Jane had been too spent to resist when Paco untied first her hands and then 
her feet and turned her over on the bed so that her breasts were pressed 
into the fur cover of the bed. Swiftly he tied her in a reverse of her old 
position and inserted the cushion under her pale white belly. 

Now this gringo bitch will learn who's the master, he thought as he quickly 
went to the screen and selected a short whip. The handle was gleaming black 
leather, but the body of the whip was covered in a soft brown velvet. Senor 
Guzman had insisted he use this one if he decided to punish Jane Horner. 
Senor Guzman had told Paco that under no circumstances was her body to be 
marked. Paco knew the velvet whip well. He knew it wouldn't mark her skin, 
but it would leave no doubt in her mind about what Paco thought of her. 

He positioned himself at the edge of the bed by Jane's side. His arm raised 
and he brought the whip down across her buttocks. Jane's body jerked from 
the stinging pain. Turning her head to the side, Jane saw Paco's arm raise 
and then come down fast. The sting was even worse this time, her whole body 
trembling from the pain as her soft flesh gave way to the demanding whip. 
Tears flooded her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks. Her body racked with a 
sudden sobbing that gripped her. 

"Aargh!" Her scream goaded Paco on, his arm flying through the air and the 
whip flailing against her bare buttocks. He brought the whip down cruelly 
against her soft white skin, until her whole ass was a bright pink. He moved 
to the end of the bed and crawled up between her legs, flicking the velvet 
tip of the whip at her gaping cunt. "Aargh!" she screamed as the whip 
flicked into her cunt, tearing the tender skin and sending pains through her 
like shots. 

Paco threw the whip to the side of the room and got on his knees. He rammed 
his erect cock into her cunt and sunk it to the hilt, pulled it back and 
rammed against her hard again. With his fingers moving frantically, he 
pulled her buttocks apart and began probing the tiny brown hole buried in 
her crevice. Bending down with his face against her ass, he darted his 
tongue at her anus. Then he dropped his face between the cheeks of her ass 
and licked the quivering hole, running his tongue inside her rectum and 
moistening the passage. 

Pulling himself up, Paco climbed on top of her. He pulled his cock from the 
depths of her cunt, the head and shaft dripping from the wetness of her 
vagina. He took it in his hand and put it against the tight brown hole, then 
shoved down on her with a power few would have believed he possessed. The 
elastic ring of her tight asshole held for a moment, then popped open and 
allowed his surging weapon entrance to her belly. 

"OH GOD!" she screamed. "Noo! Pleasee. You're tearing me! Pleasee! I'm 
dying! God! Plea-seeee Stop!" 

It felt like his cock was going to rip right through her stomach and nail 
her to the bed. The pain was more intense than anything Jane had ever 
experienced. She fainted. 

Paco was like a madman. His hips jumped up and down as he made his cock a 
giant piston ramming into the very depths of Jane's body. He watched blood 
spurt from the small ring which grapsed his suring prick. "Bleed, you bitch, 
bleed!" he muttered as he increased the speed and hardenss of his strokes. 
All of the hate, passion and frustration in Paco's being surged through his 
veins. This was the ass that had humped at him in the airport! This was the 
proud bitch who shuddered when he touched her! She'd remember this for a 
long, long time! Maybe this would teach her to treat other people like human 
beings! He drove deeper as he felt the head of his rod explode and spurt his 
juice up inside the proud gringo bitch. 

When Mark saw Paco plunge his unbelievable weapon into Jane's ass, he closed 
his eyes and gave himself over to the electric sensation of what Coun-suela 
was doing to him with her voracious mouth. She had his balls in her hand, 
squeezing them gently as she plunged her head down on his surging shaft 
until her lips met his pubic hair at the base. Each time she pulled back, 
she wrapped her tongue around the shaft covering each inch of skin with a 
moist warmth. She felt his sack in her hand swell and she doubled her 
effort. Then the sweet warm juice she had waited for flowed into her mouth, 
warming her teeth and oozing down her throat. 

Mark had had blow jobs before, but nothing like that! She sucked him dry, so 
dry he felt she would turn his toes inside out. He ran his fingers through 
her hair and opened his eyes. 

"My God! That was something else!" he said. 

"Just a sample, darling, we'll just have to have a little session together 
soon!" 

Guzman interupted them. Coming to his feet, he pointed to the end of the 
room where Paco had dragged Jane's body to the floor of the tile bathroom. 

"He's going to put on the finishing touch now!" 

They all stood and watched Paco dump her on the floor and then stand over 
her. He took his limp prick in his hand and aimed it down at Jane's white 
body. A flow of hot, dark yellow urine came flooding down. It hit Jane's 
face and brought her to consciousness. She squirmed and tried to move out of 
the path of the pungent, steaming urine spurting at her. Paco followed her, 
aiming at every inch of her body and covering it with the foul-smelling 
yellow liquid. It was in her hair, streaming down her face, forming puddles 
between her breasts and on her belly. Paco kicked her legs apart and aimed 
straight into her cunt, then turned and left her lying on the floor as he 
gathered his clothes and walked out of the room. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

Gray is a color. Or a mood. It's that undefined area between black and 
white. Gray is nothing. It has no form or substance. It just hangs there, 
ominous, threatening-above all, depressing. Mark hated gray. He liked 
everything orderly, definite. Black should be black, otherwise it lacked 
definition and was disorderly. It was the same with right and wrong, but he 
wouldn't fight that today. Not after last night. Last night was a time of 
clutching sheets, searching for a comfortable position, cursing his 
inability to sleep. Mark was confused; not a new condition for him, but one 
he absolutely despised. He would never have made a good sailor. He hated to 
tack, preferring to damn the wind and set a straight course from here to 
there. 

"It must be the weather," he said aloud, although he was alone in his room 
standing by the window in his robe. It was still outside-and gray, a light 
charcoal gray. Not a leaf on the jacaranda tree by the window moved. Then, 
as he watched, the rain began. First a single drop hit the window pane, then 
another, then several, and soon the entire pane was speckled with tiny dots. 
He was about to comment on how silent the rain was when a clap of thunder 
shook the leaves and rattled the window pane. Now the water came down in 
sheets, a heavy, hard rain. Tree branches, heavy laden with water, bent 
toward the pound. Puddles formed on the lawn and water began gushing out of 
the drain pipes. A burst of lightaing, a clap of thunder and more rain. 
Gray. 

Mark shaved, showered and dressed for the day, fighting his gray mood with 
silent pep-talks and gay whistling. Only once did he think of Jane Horner, 
alone in the Game Room with the rain beating down on the building, and he 
pushed that from his mind with a stern warning to himself. "For Christ's 
sake," he said to no one in particular, "don't worry about her! Worry about 
yourself, you're the one who's disintegrating! Before you know it, you'll be 
a dues-paying member of the Establishment." 

The rain stopped as quickly as it began, and by the time Mark came 
downstairs the sun was shining. Knowing it was too wet for the gazebo, Mark 
headed for the main dining room where he found Gorman and his employer 
enjoying a cup of coffee. 

"Good morning, Mark. How did you like our little shower?" 

"Good morning, Senor Guzman-Doctor. Is this the beginning of the rainy 
season?" 

"I wouldn't flunk so," Guzman said with a smile. "I think you could call 
this just a preview. The season should begin in another two or three weeks." 

"Does it rain like this all the time in the rainy season?" 

"Every day, but only for an hour or two. Usually in the late afternoons. 
Some years you can set your watch by the rain. It comes between four and 
five every afternoon," Gorman replied. 

"Sit down and have some coffee, Mark," Senor Guzman said. "I'd like to hear 
what you've found out on that assignment I gave you." 

Mark poured himself a steaming cup of coffee, picked up two sweet rolls and 
sat down at the table. 

"Well, as you know, I put calls in to Pete and Ed the day before yesterday. 
Then I spent all day yesterday going over some of the files and news 
clippings we have. I found some interesting things and I put in another call 
to Pete. He worked some minor miracles and got back to me last night." 

"And what's it look like?" Guzman asked, obviously anxious for Mark to come 
to the point. "Is the news good or bad?" 

"That all depends on how you look at it. First of all, the organization is 
quite informal. Headquarters are in Omaha, and everywhere else it operates 
out of people's homes-the volunteers'. They don't have regular meetings. 
Jane Horner and a man named Reverend James tour a number of states making 
speechs to P.T.A. groups, church groups, and even some civic organizations. 
The thing that binds them all together is a newsletter put out monthly by 
the headquarters in Omaha. A woman named Mildred Thatcher writes that. 

"It seems the operation centers around the organization putting pressure on 
civic groups and even law enforcement agencies to crack down on marijuana. 
This extends to a constant pressure put on congressmen and senators, which I 
gather is an effort to halt any legalization of marijuana. 

"The primary effort, however, is directed at the high school and college 
level. The organization publishes leaflets and leans pretty heavy on just 
about everybody...." 

"Pardon my interruption, Mark, but don't they claim that pot has contributed 
to increased sexual activity among the younger generation?" Guzman asked. 

"Right! The morality bit is one of their big scenes. Miss Horner seems to 
believe the entire sexual revolution is a direct result of pot. She claims 
the minute a kid lights up a stick he gives up morality and immediately 
becomes a sex maniac. Lately, though, I note that she has soft-pedaled this 
some. Offhand I'd say the scientific reports showing no relationship between 
sex and marijuana have armed some of her audiences with questions she 
couldn't answer. Like all crusaders, she has a deft way of avoiding facts 
that don't fit the pitch she's pushing." 

"You say 'soft-pedaled,' do you mean they've stopped using this particular 
put-down?" Guzman asked. 

"Not entirely, no. A year or so ago they were leaning hard and heavy on sex 
and marijuana. Every pot party was an orgy, and they had the P.T.A. and 
civic groups on the rampage. Business was booming because sex is something 
everybody can get really whipped up over. Scientists and doctors laughed at 
this and magazines began printing some of the factual reports. 

"Even though Miss Horner's whole concept is based on Bible Belt 
emotionalism, she felt she had better move to safer ground. So the pitch 
changed. Right now they harp on marijuana leading to narcotic addiction, 
anti-social behavior and crime, personality disintegration, and that good 
old standby, brain damage. The sex bit is still there, but it's no longer 
the central theme. And personally I think they've lost a lot of steam as a 
result." 

"Do you think legahzation is eminent, Mark?" Gorman asked as he stood up and 
walked over to pour himself another cup of coffee. 

"Hardly, Doctor," replied Guzman. "Politcally, legalization is impossible. 
The United States is too far committed through the United Nations and all. 
The point Mark is making is that the public may adopt a more tolerant 
attitude. Right, Mark?" 

"Oh, I think that's already happened! The more the truth is known about pot, 
the less excited the public is about the whole issue." 

"And that's as dangerous for us as legalization," said Guzman. 

"Senor Guzman, I wish you'd explain that to me. On the surface it would 
appear to me that the more tolerant people become toward marijuana, the 
better our business will be. I need to understand your reasoning if I'm to 
do a proper job for you." 

Senor Guzman leaned back in his chair and gazed steadily into Mark's eyes. 
Mark had brought this up before, and he knew it was time to educate his 
youngest staff member. He had to leave for Mexico City shortly, and a 
conference with Gorman was necessary before he left. So his chat with Mark 
would just have to wait. 

"All in good time, Mark," he said. "We'll have a long strategy meeting this 
week. Right now, though, what did you find out about staff meetings in Miss 
Horner's organization?" 

"Well, as I said, they don't have regular meetings. The people are all 
volunteers, non-paid, and scattered over a many-state area. There is a 
meeting scheduled, though. Twenty women and ten men are due in Omaha next 
month for a conference. Miss Horner is to give a report on the conference in 
Mexico City, and the organization is paying the transportation and lodging 
for those coming in. Without her, I doubt there will be a meeting." 

"Hmm!" Guzman said, lost in thought and stroking his chin for a moment. "Are 
there area meetings?" 

"Yes. In most big cities they try to meet on the second Thursday of each 
month, but these are poorly organized and attendance is not steady. If Miss 
Horner's in town to address them, they have a good turn-out." 

"It might just work, then. Tell you what, Mark. Call Pete and have him find 
out exactly how many of these meetings there are. I need a fairly accurate 
count, give or take say ten per cent. Just the major ones, not the one-horse 
towns. Get the dates they're scheduled to meet next month, and get 
addresses. Find out where they meet and who's in charge. Okay?" 

"I'll get on it right now, if you want." 

"Good! I'll be in Mexico City until tomorrow, but let's plan to go over all 
of this when I get back." 

Mark finished the last of his coffee and left for the communications room. 
Senor Guzman seemed lost in thought for a moment, and Gorman interrupted him 
with a question. 

"Want to tell me what's on your mind?" 

"I'm not sure yet. A lot actually depends on you, Doctor." 

"Oh?" 

"I have several ideas," Guzman continued, becoming very business like. 
"Their success depends on a good many factors-perhaps too many. A little 
while ago the senator from Michigan made the statement he had been 
brainwashed by Washington about conditions in Vietnam...." 

"It was the governor, Governor Romney," Gorman interrupted. 

"No matter. Because he was running for president, everyone scoffed at this. 
What I want to know is could it have happened?" 

Gorman smiled. His employer, usually so well informed on everything, was 
definitely leading somewhere with all of this. He pulled a package of 
Delicados from his pocket, lifted one of the oval-shaped cigarettes from the 
pack, tapped it against the top of the teak table and lit it. The strong, 
acrid taste of the cigarette made his mouth rebel for a moment. In all these 
years he had never become accustomed to Mexican cigarettes. After the first 
puff he could endure them, but the first puff was always hell. 

"Certainly you must realize," he said, "that all of that was politically 
inspired. What the governor meant was that he had been psychologically 
conditioned, fed propaganda so that his judgment would be clouded about what 
he saw." 

"I know that, Doctor. What I'm asking is if it's possible to brainwash 
someone, especially in a relatively short period of time." 

Gorman now saw the direction the conversation was taking, but he wanted 
Guzman to take it there. It was, after all his idea, so let him explore it. 

"That depends on a great number of things, the individual, the 
circumstances, the amount of time and the objective," he replied. 

"Given the average person and the average circumstances, what time are we 
talking about?" 

"Again, it'd depend on a number of factors. The North Koreans, in their 
little skirmish with the Americans in the fifties, had some amazing 
successes. In some cases they achieved their goals in from three to six 
months. I'd say the average would take closer to a year, though. I'm 
assuming that you're talking about working against the individual's will and 
making a complete transformation with absolute reversal of attitude." 

"Let's stop fencing, Doctor. I'm talking about Jane Horner. How long would 
it take you to turn her into a completely sensual person, something perhaps 
just a shade shy of a nymphomaniac?" 

Gorman got up and walked to the window. He'd been expecting this, of course, 
and the idea of turning that luscious blonde into a sex machine appealed to 
him, excited him. He would have to handle Guzman with care so that he would 
not change his mind. 

"That's a tall order, Avillo," he said. "It means a complete reversal of 
character." 

"You saw her respond to Paco's tongue and prick as well as I did," Guzman 
said, his voice becoming slightly impatient and crisp. 

"Admittedly that was a good sign. It showed that she is capable of 
responding to erotic stimulation, but that's only part of the story, you 
know. It's possible I could bring her around in six months, but I'd say it 
might be closer to a year." 

"How about ten days?" 

Gorman swung around to face his employer. His first reaction was that he 
must be joking, but he saw that Guzman's face was perfectly serious. The 
eyes were set in a cold stare, and not even a trace of a smile was on his 
lips. 

"Impossible!" 

"Why?" 

"Look, I can see you're quite serious, but so am I. It just can't be done, 
not even with physical torture." 

"Her body must not be marked!" 

"It can't be done in under six months! Probably longer." Gorman began pacing 
the area in front of the window, trying to consider every aspect of the 
problem his employer had presented him. "Electric shock. Yes, I suppose I 
could use shock; find her current attitudes, begin indoctrinating her with 
new ideas, enforce the indoctrination with various forms of punishment, set 
up a concentrated schedule...." 

"How far would you be in say two weeks?" 

"I might have her to the sex slave stage, maybe even demanding it." 

"Would she do anything and everything?" 

"Perhaps." 

"Even participate in an orgy?" 

"Yes, I think so. I'm not sure, you understand. I have no idea how she'll 
react or the problems I'll encounter. Whatever it was, we'd have to contain 
everything here. She couldn't be sent outside, if that's what you're 
thinking. No matter how much I accomplished, it wouldn't be firmly enough 
established in two weeks. She very well might rebel the moment she was away 
from me." 

"Well, that answers my next question. Doctor, let's make sure we understand 
one another. I don't want Jane Homer to be an automaton, a zombie who goes 
through various acts like a trained seal. She must look and act normal. I 
want her to put on a sex circus like it was the most natural, and the most 
enjoyable, thing in the world for her. Her body must not be marked in any 
way, is that clear?" 

"Perfectly clear." The Doctor's answer was automatic. His mind was already 
racing through the myriad of problems he would have to overcome to 
accomplish this feat. He knew it could be done, but the time element 
bothered him. "I only hope you know just how difficult this'll be. Why must 
it be in two weeks? Can't we take several months and do it right?" 

"Because, my dear Doctor, whatever we do with Miss Homer must be done soon 
if we are to benefit by it. Right now we have the advantage. Nobody knows 
she's missing. Once they do, a great part of our advantage is missing. The 
critical time comes with the conference in Mexico City, and I'll have to 
come up with something to deal with that. Whatever I do can only buy us a 
very short amount of time-a week to ten days at best. And there'll be some 
mechanical problems, which I suspect with take a good part of that time." 

"Avillo, just what are we going to do with Miss Homer?" 

Before Guzman could reply, Consuela walked into the dining room. She was 
wearing a bright green bikini, as if she was headed for the swimming pool, 
but she went directly to the sideboard and poured herself a cup of coffee. 
Her large ripe breasts were barely contained in the thin piece of material, 
the nipples clearly defined as they pressed out. Her luxurious growth of 
pubic hair padded the bright V the material made between her thighs, and 
hairs stuck out on each side. A bright green ribbon held her hair back, and 
her high heel shoes were dyed to match her suit. The color of green made a 
startling contrast to her olive skin. 

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked. 

"No," Guzman replied, standing and preparing to leave. "We were finished for 
now. I have to go to the city today and I'm late now. Going for a swim?" 

"Perhaps. I thought it might be nice after the rain. By the way, do you 
think the Horner girl is recovered enough for me to have a little session 
with her? I haven't had a blonde like that in a long while." 

"Doctor?" Guzman said, turning to Gorman. 

"Yes. Yes, definitely. I think it'd be an excellent overture! Don't be the 
least bit gentle with her, Consuela. I think she should be tied down for 
you." 

"That suits me just fine. In fact, that was just what I was thinking. I 
doubt she'd stand still for some of the things I have in mind." 

"Again," Guzman interjected, "I must warn both of you. Miss. Horner's body 
is not to be marked!" 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Jane thought of escape. A hundred times she thought about how she could get 
away from these insane people who were tormenting her, and each time she 
rejected the idea. She was alone in a foreign country, alone in a small town 
far from anything. Even if she got beyond the maddening door at the end of 
the room, how far would she get? She had no idea where she was. She wouldn't 
even know what direction to run. And she had no clothes. How far would a 
naked girl be able to run in a strange land? Escape wasn't practical. 

Survival was Jane's answer. She must survive! At all costs she had to live 
through this. She had no idea why she was being held prisoner, or what her 
tormenters planned to do with her, but she was certain she could survive. 
Did they intend to kill her? Jane didn't think so. All of this had been 
carefully planned. Her meeting Connie had been no accident, of that she was 
certain. And if they had wanted to kill her, they could have done that much 
more easily. Just hire somebody to shoot her in Omaha, or even in Mexico 
City. No, she was certain they weren't going to kill her. At least not yet. 
Not until they had accomplished what they had set out to do. But what was 
that? What could they possibly want? 

It was the will to survive that had pulled her up to off the floor covered 
with Paco's foul-smelling urine. She had wanted to die right there on the 
floor, but her will wouldn't let her. She'd forced herself into the shower, 
saying over and over again, "This, too, shall pass." That was something she 
had learned in the orphanage. When life became absolutely unbearable, when 
she thought she couldn't go on for another second, she quoted the Bible: 
"This, too, shall pass." And it always did! Whatever it was passed and life 
went on. 

Two days now! She counted the days by the meals they brought her. Three 
times a day a maid opened the door and set a steaming tray on the table at 
the entrance. The food was delicious, all gourmet dishes excellently 
prepared and served. She wasn't hungry, but Jane forced herself to eat 
everything they brought her. She had to survive, and she would need every 
ounce of her strength. 

Her body had mended from Paco's assult. That was six meals ago, and Jane 
felt she was completely recovered. At the beginning, the pain in her rectum 
was unbearable. She had to he on her stomach, and she couldn't walk without 
great pains shooting through her body. The first time she went to the 
bathroom, the bowel movement almost killed her. "This, too, shall pass. I 
shall overcome!" she kept reminding herself. 

At first, the bareness of the room drove her crazy. There was nothing to 
read, nothing to do to pass the time between the meals! She investigated 
every corner of the room, even looking under the beds. When she looked 
behind the screen in the corner and saw the rows of whips and a number of 
artificial penises hanging on the wall, she recoiled in horror at the 
thought of how these instruments of torture were used on people. Then, after 
a while, she looked at the array of sex devices calmly, running her hands 
over each item to remind herself how desperate her situation really was. The 
penises fascinated her. Each was very life-like, a soft plastic, textured 
like skin, covering the outside. Some were complete with sacks attached, 
molded to give the appearance of testicles. Jane saw that these could be 
filled with liquid, and the liquid could be shot through the penis to come 
out the tiny hole at the head. 

There were other things, which, even after studying them at length, Jane 
couldn't imagine their use. A ring with what appeared to be little rubber 
spikes all around the outer edge, a ball, smaller than a ping-pong ball, 
which seemed to be partially filled with something like mercury, a number of 
electrical vibrators with various attachments, an assortment of feathers, 
plastic plugs which graduated from an inch to about three inches in 
diameter, and a group of bamboo canes standing against the wall all 
fascinated her. What kind of people used things like this? 

Jane began doing body exercises to keep her muscles in shape. She started 
tackling the problems of her organization, seeking ways to make changes that 
would reduce the load she had to carry. She had to force herself to 
concentrate on the business. It seemed so far away, so remote. And somehow 
Jane had lost interest. For the first time in her life the organization no 
longer mattered to her. She told herself she must concentrate on survival, 
that the business would come later, after she survived whatever ordeals were 
before her. Everything she thought, everything she did must be keyed to her 
survival. "This, too, shall pass!" 

She was asleep on the large circular bed when the two men came into the room 
With her nervous system tuned to any sound from the door, Jane came awake 
with a jolt. She sat up and watched them move to the wall and pull out one 
of the long black beds. They placed it in front of the mirror and then 
approached her. Grabbing her hands and feet roughly, they lifted her and 
carried her to the bed. Panic gripped her and Jane tried to fight them, but 
they held her tightly and forced her into the same spreadeagled position on 
the bed. Her hands and feet were bound the same as before. 

The men looked at her helpless body, their eyes roving over her creamy white 
breasts with their proud red nipples pointing at the ceiling and the pink 
lips of her fully exposed cunt glistening through the golden pubic hair that 
crested her mound. They laughed, and they said things to each other Jane 
couldn't understand. Then one of the men, the taller of the two, cruelly ran 
his middle finger up Jane's cunt. He made several savage strokes and then 
pulled it out, raising it up under his companion's nose They both smelled 
the moist finger, laughed and walked out of the room. 

It seemed like an eternity to Jane. She knew she was going to be put through 
another torturous experience with Paco and his cock that belonged to a 
horse, but why were they making her wait like this? She felt a shudder run 
through her body when the noise of the door opening reached her ears. She 
closed her eyes to blot out another look at that grotesque body. He can do 
what he wants to my body, but I won't look at him, she thought. 

"Hello, Jane darling. How're you feeling today?" 

It was Connie's voice! Jane's eyes came open with a start. She saw Connie 
standing beside her, looking down, her beautiful eyes strangely animated. 
She had on the briefest bikini Jane had ever seen. It barely covered her 
nipples, and it failed to cover all of the hair between her legs. Jane 
started to cry out to Connie to help her, but caught herself in time. A lot 
of good that'd do! Connie was the one who had lured her here, drugged her 
and made her a prisoner. 

"Where am I?" Jane's voice pleaded. 

"Oh, haven't they told you yet? Why, Jane dear, you're a guest in 
Cuernavaca." 

"Guest! I'm a prisoner, and you know it!" 

"Well, I suppose it's all in how you look at things." 

"Connie, what're they going to do to me?" 

"Darling, I just work here. You'll have to find that out from the boss. 
You'll meet him when he's ready to see you." 

Jane's mind worked quickly. It was obvious that Connie knew what this was 
all about. She was in it up to her ears, but she wasn't going to tell Jane 
anything. Survive! Play along with Connie. Do anything, but make her tell 
you what this is all about. Flatter her, do anything. 

"I don't see how you can go swimming when you know they're going to torture 
me!" 

"You like my bikini?" 

"It's lovely, and you have a gorgeous body." 

"I'm glad you like it, dear. I was just thinking the same about yours. Such 
lovely breasts! And that blonde hair on your little cunt is just darling." 

Consuela reached out and ran the tips of her fingers over the sensitive tips 
of Jane's breasts, letting her nails circle and flick against the nipples. 
She moved her hand and trailed her fingers down across Jane's soft, white 
belly, the soft touch making Jane's body quiver. Almost absently, Consuela's 
fingertips ran through the soft, golden pubic hair covering Jane's exposed 
mound. They traced the lines of her slit, moved along her inner thighs and 
then back to dip just inside the slightly spread lips and moisten themselves 
in Jane's juices. 

Jane's mind raced back to the orphanage, to Sylvia and the things they did 
to each other. Sylvia's hand, her magic fingers making Jane feel so good. 
And the beating! She'd never seen Miss Hobbs so mad as when she caught them 
playing with each other that way. She pulled Sylvia out of the bed and began 
beating them both with her bare hands. Jane remembered crouching, waiting 
for the next blow and trying to protect her face with her hands. And they 
came, blow after blow. And then the cold shower, her body trembling as the 
ice cold water covered every inch of her skin. She never saw Sylvia again. 
They moved her somewhere, but nobody knew where. 

"Connie, please don't! That's not nice." Jane realized how ridiculous it 
sounded even before it was off her lips. 

"Oh, I think it's very nice. And so will you, darling, before I finish with 
you!" 

Consuela unhooked her bra and let it drop to the floor, her heavy breasts 
quivering as they fell free. Her nipples were hard and pointed straight out. 
Taking one in her hand, Consuela bent down and rubbed her erect nipple 
against Jane's breast. Jane felt a response run through her helpless body as 
Consuela pressed her nipple hard into Jane's. 

"Please don't, Connie. Please!" 

"Shut up, you stupid bitch! You talk too much. I'll find a better use for 
that mouth of yours later, but shut it now! I'll do what I want to you, and 
you're hardly in any position to stop me." 

"But, Connie...." 

Consuela raised her arm and brought a stinging slap across Jane's face. 

"When I said shut up, I meant it!" 

Jane felt two tears fall down her cheek, her eyes watering from the vicious 
slap. Survive! She gritted her teeth and looked into Consuela's eyes. An 
excited animation she saw there frightened her. Her whole body shuddered as 
she saw Consuela's tongue dart out and run across her lips. Ugh, Jane 
thought! She looks like a beast wetting her lips over some victim she's 
trapped. Suddenly it dawned on Jane that she was the trapped victim about to 
be devoured! 

She watched Consuela slip her fingers under the elastic and pull the bottom 
of her suit down. She pulled it below her knees and then wiggled her body 
until it fell to the floor. Jane's eyes were fastened on the spot where 
Consuel'a legs joined. She had never seen so much hair. It was jet black and 
very curly, and it looked like a large bush growing between her smooth, 
olive-toned legs! The black mass was both ugly and beautiful at the same 
time. 

"Don't worry, darling, you'll get a taste of it," Consuela said, noticing 
where Jane's gaze was fixed. "I'm going to give you a very special kind of 
facial, with lots of cream, later on!" 

She reached out with both hands and covered Jane's breasts, kneading them 
gently and tweaking the nipples between her thumb and forefinger. A smile 
touched the corners of her mouth as she saw Jane's body begin to respond. 
Jane's breath came a little faster, and the red, ripe nipples grew taut in 
Consuela's grasp. She concentrated on the two strawberries in her hands, 
twisting them, pulling them, squeezing them, and flicking them back and 
forth between her nimble fingers. Dropping to her knees beside the bed, 
Consuela leaned over Jane's helpless body and darted her moist tongue at the 
erect buds between her fingers. She held Jane's left nipple between her 
fingers so that the tip was extended above them. Then she ran her tongue 
over the tip, pulling, pushing and finally sucking it between her eager 
lips. Releasing her grasp, she pulled the entire nipple into her mouth, 
nibbling the sweet edge between her teeth. As her teeth held it captive, she 
ran her tongue over it, fluttering like the wings of a butterfly. 

Jane fought the awakening sensuahty of her body. She forced herself to think 
of anything except what was happening to her. She bit her tongue as her body 
betrayed her, giving itself over to the excitement Consuela was bringing to 
her. When she felt Consuela's mouth on her breast, Jane's body involuntarily 
arched upward to offer more to those voracious lips and that searing tongue. 
What was the matter with her? Why did she react to these terrible things 
they did to her? 

"Getting a little hot, darling? You have a sweet tit. Now let's see how that 
little blonde cunt is." 

Consuela crawled over Jane on the bed and positioned herself between Jane's 
legs. She ran her hands up and down Jane's white thighs, the soft skin 
thrilling to her touch. Leaning forward, she planted a moist kiss on the 
inside of Jane's knee, letting her tongue slowly trail along the creamy 
surface of Jane's thigh. Just before she reached the gaping slit, she moved 
her head to the other side and planted a long series of moist kisses along 
the other thigh. This time she let her tongue trace the edges of Jane's 
golden crested mound. Using her fingers, Consuela spread the lips and 
exposed the pink flesh of Jane's cunt to her view. The small clitoris was 
erect and quivering. She ran her tongue along the inside of the widespread 
lips, down into the deep crevice and around the brown button between her 
cheeks, back up to the lips and clitoris, and then let it run in fast little 
circles at the entrance to Jane's vagina. With one quick dart she sank her 
tongue deep into Jane's cunt, savoring the musk-scented juices of Jane's 
passion which were already flowing. 

"Oohh!" Jane sighed. Her body arched and seemed to pull Consuela's tongue 
even deeper inside her. She rotated her hips to feel that searing tongue 
sweep around the walls of her excited cunt. 

Consuela cupped Jane's hips in her hands and buried her face into the soft 
blonde hair between Jane's legs. She concentrated her attack on Jane's 
defenseless clitoris, flicking it back and forth with her heated tongue and 
then sucking it into her mouth and scraping it back and forth between her 
teeth. Jane's juices were flowing freely now, and Consuela licked the sweet 
drops as they oozed from the excited cunt beneath her hungry mouth. The soft 
blonde hair tickling the edges of her tongue excited her, drove her to the 
point of wanting to devour Jane, chew her, swallow her and digest her. She 
cupped her tongue on Jane's hard clitoris, beginning a hard sawing motion up 
and down. 

"Oohh! God! Oohh! Please!" Jane's body boiled over with passion. She watched 
Consuela, the raven black hair framed between her white thighs and the 
maddening tongue flicking up and down, slurping her cunt, torturing it, and 
Jane's hips went into a frenzied motion. Her head flopped from side to side 
in a wild swaying motion, the golden hair flairing out on the black fur with 
each toss. Jane's nostrils flared, her tongue extended, frantically trying 
to moisten her dry, swollen lips. 

Consuela stopped, drawing her head up and resting her chin on Jane's swaying 
crotch. 

"NO! Please don't stop! Pleasee! I can't stand it! Please don't stop!" Jane 
groaned, every ounce of her being straining against the ropes that bound her 
to the bed. 

Consuela lifted her body and fell on top of Jane, her breasts cruelly 
mashing against Jane's, her hands diving into Jane's blonde hair so that she 
could control the bobbing head. She wiggled her hips, pulling her legs 
together and placing them between Jane's. Consuela squirmed until she felt 
her pelvis grind into Jane's, their pubic hair melting into a tangled mass. 
Pressing down and moving slightly to one side, Consuela managed to get her 
clitoris on top of Jane's. 

Her cheeks and mouth were wet with Jane's hot juices. She could still feel 
the soft blonde hairs rubbing against her lips, the almost virginal cunt 
pulling her tongue deeper and deeper. She had filled her mouth with Jane's 
warm come, swirling it over and under her tongue, but keeping herself from 
swallowing it. The salty taste permeated her whole being and Consuela was 
hotter than she could remember being in a very long time. 

Looking at the pure white skin framed on the bed beneath her, Consuela began 
a slow, circular grinding movement, using her knees for balance and rotating 
her hips. She was careful to keep their clitorises in direct contact and she 
bore down on Jane's relentlessly. Jane's blonde hair excited her. She ran 
her fingers through it as her movements became more instinctive, more 
demanding. I'll teach you what that cunt of yours is for, you blonde bitch, 
Consuela thought. I'll fuck you dry. I'll fuck you until you scream! She 
ground down, knowing from the sudden shudder in Jane's body that she was 
hurting her by rubbing her coarse pubic hair into the soft folds of Jane's 
cunt. 

"Ooo...." Jane never finished. Consuela held her head tightly and pressed 
her lips against Jane's open mouth, her hot, probing tongue shooting deep 
into Jane's mouth. 

Jane was dying. At least she thought she was. Consuela was hurting her, but 
it was an exquisite pain, all consuming, exciting and beautiful. Then she 
saw Consuela's mouth coming toward her, the sensuous lips moist with beads 
of her own come. She tried to move her head, but Consuela's hands held her 
like a vise. When their lips pressed together Jane felt an electric shock 
run through her. And then Consuela's searing tongue was in her mouth and 
there was a strange, salty taste flowing through her. She let her tongue 
meet Consuela's, and soon the two hot tongues were engaged in a battle for 
possession of Jane's mouth. 

All the time, Consuela's cunt ground against Jane's, the mixture of pain and 
pleasure overwhelming them both. Almost simultaneously their bodies went 
rigid, their tongues locked in a fierce embrace, their pubic hair matted in 
a hopeless tangle. 

"Aargh!" 

"Uhmmhh!" Their grunts died in each other's mouth, their cunts gushed the 
sweet, salty, pungent liquor of lust. It inundated their pubic hair, matting 
it together like a light glue, ran down their thighs, flowed through the 
crevice of Jane's ass and flooded the black fur beneath them. Jane's whole 
body flowed with it, her muscles coming apart and forcing every inch of her 
skin to press into the black fur. 

"Now wasn't that better than being fucked by that monster Paco?" 

Jane didn't answer. She hated her body for having betrayed her, for giving 
into the lust of this foul beast above her. 

"Wasn't it?" 

"Why don't you wet on me like he did? Make it complete!" Jane spat at her. 

"I may, darling-later. Right now, let's relax and catch our breath. Believe 
me, you'll need it for later!" 

Jane stared at the ceiling, letting the soft silk folds carry her into 
another world. Was this really her, responding to these terrible things this 
way when her body should have been ice cold and sickened at the invasions of 
her private regions? What was this new sensation that flowed recklessly 
through her, this foreign feeling that excited her so? Was the devil 
tempting her flesh, and was she giving in to him? Tears filled her eyes and 
sobbing racked her body over the guilt she felt. 

Gorman, watching and listening closely from behind the glass in the secret 
room, was pleased with what he saw. He was a little surprised to see 
Consuela's homosexual drive so strong. It was something he had never noted 
before. Of course, he wasn't certain it was her homosexual drive that made 
her attack Jane with such ferocity. Jane Homer was the type of girl everyone 
wanted to fuck, to punish, he reflected. She's such a sweet bitch she brings 
out the beast in all of us. Even Mark, he thought, remembering how savagely 
Mark had made love to her. 

"Perhaps it's because she reminds us of all the things we have lost, our 
honesty, our innocence, our trust in others, our lack of sophistication," he 
muttered to himself. We see in her the things we're not, and we hate her for 
that. 

"Bullshit!" he said aloud. "She's worse than we are because she hides behind 
that sweet facade while she screws everybody in sight, hurting them all she 
can, punishing them for not being as desperately frustrated and demented as 
she is!" 

He saw Consuela signal him and he pressed a button that lowered an 
electrical outlet from the ceiling, the cord swaying obscenely just above 
Jane's white belly. He watched Consuela cross the room and then emerge from 
behind the screen with the little ball and the velvet whip in one hand and a 
vibrator in the other. She really's going to give Miss Horner a workout, he 
chuckled. 

"What're you going to do to me?" Jane croaked as she watched Consuela 
approach with the things in her hands. 

"Well, for one thing, you're going to eat my cunt, darling. Just like I ate 
yours." 

"I won't do it! You can't make me. It's disgusting!" 

"It wasn't so disgusting when I ate you, was it, darling? You'll do it, 
don't worry about that! But first we're going to warm you up a bit." 

She laid the whip on the bed beside Jane's body and climbed between her 
legs. Reaching up, she attached the plug on the vibrator to the cord hanging 
from the ceiling. Then she spread the lips Of Jane's pink slit with her 
fingers and inserted the little ball deep into Jane's vagina, pushing it far 
inside with her fingers. 

"What's that?" Jane cried, the foul invasion of her body sending a stabbing 
pain through her abdomen. 

"It has some sort of a Chinese name I can't pronounce, darling, but it's 
filled with mercury. When you move your hips and grind away with your 
crotch, it'll move around in your cunt and drive you absolutely crazy. 
You'll love it!" 

Consuela switched the vibrator on, the light hum of its motor breaking the 
silence in the room. Jane's eyes fixed on the little cup-like attachment. It 
was moving so fast it blurred before her vision. Consuela placed it on her 
thigh and a warm, pleasant feeling raced through Jane's legs, up through her 
belly and across her chest, making her nipples tremble and quiver. Consuela 
moved it along one thigh and then the other, pressing forward to the blonde 
crested mound which gaped before her. She let it move slowly down the outer 
lips covering the throbbing pink flesh of Jane's vagina, then slipped it 
under the lips and ran it around the outer edge of her now quivering cunt. 
Spreading the lips with her left hand, Consuela moved the vibrator until it 
was directly over her target. She dropped it on the defenseless clitoris and 
let it press down. 

Jane's body went into spasms, jerking up and down, her hips swaying from 
side to side. It was too much for her! She was certain she would faint. The 
ball inside her was jiggling around, bouncing off her cervix and touching 
every inch of her deepest seat of passion. Her clitoris vibrating a thousand 
times a second! Her entire body felt like molten lead, fluid, hot! Again she 
felt her treacherous body begin climbing the steps of passion, lingering for 
just a moment on each new plane. Consuela stopped. 

"Mustn't get too hot, darling. You have some eating to do!" 

Leaving the vibrator on the bed between Jane's legs, Consuela let her body 
slide over Jane's until her feet were on the soft gray fur covering the 
floor. Consuela loved the fur rug. Sometimes, during orgies, she would run 
around the room allowing the soft fur to lovingly caress her toes. She stood 
for a moment watching the helpless body before her. Jane's hips had gone 
into an involuntary swaying motion, the small ball filled with mercury 
tantalizing the depths of her hungry cunt. Consuela smiled, knowing what 
delights the ball brought her. You're not as frigid as you make out, little 
Janie Horner, Consuela thought. She felt a quickening in her own loins while 
she watched Jane's full ripe breasts heave as the passion in her grew. The 
taut, ripe, red nipples seemed to beckon to Consuela as they crested the 
snowy white mounds and pointed straight at the ceding. Consuela lowered her 
head slowly and caught one of the luscious strawberries between her hungry, 
demanding lips. She pulled half of Jane's breast in her mouth, sinking her 
teeth into the trembling skin without breaking it, and then pulled her head 
upward and scraped her teeth along the sides until the nipple was caught 
between them. 

"Oohh! That's so good, don't stop!" Jane said as Consuela lifted her head, 
completely freeing the sensual tit. 

Consuela ignored her, picked up the velvet whip and moved around the bed 
until she was directly behind Jane's head. Placing her knees on either side 
of Jane's head, Consuela positioned herself above the delicious blonde's 
face. 

Jane stared up into the mass of black pubic hair that now covered her entire 
vision. The thickly matted hair glistened with drops of moisture, making it 
appear like a damp glade in a dark forest. She saw the hungry lips of 
Consuela's cunt opening and closing slightly as the Latin girl contracted 
her muscles. Inside, pink flesh ringed with deep red ridges looked down at 
Jane. A pungent, overpowering odor drifted down to her nostrils, making them 
flare and quiver. It was an animal smell, charged with electricity and lust, 
a smell that both excited and repulsed Jane. She felt a drop of dew fall on 
her cheek, and then one on her lips, leaving a salty, spicy taste as her 
tongue caught it and ran it into her mouth. 

"Now, Jane darling, you're going to eat me. And you'll eat me until I cover 
your face with come...." 

"I won't do it!" Jane screamed as she watched the black bush lowering to 
cover her lips and nose. "I won't do it! You can't make me!" 

"I think I can, and I think you will!" She brought her arm up and lashed the 
velvet whip across Jane's belly. "Let me feel those lips against mine, and 
sink that tongue deep into my cunt!" 

Consuela dropped her crotch until she was completely covering Jane's mouth 
and nose. She began grinding her hungry vagina into Jane's face, her arm 
making the whip sing through the air as she demanded strict obedience. She 
planted five stinging lashes across Jane's belly and then sent it stinging 
into the unprotected flesh of her widespread thighs. There was a soft 
slapping sound as the velvet covered whip slashed across the creamy white 
flesh. Jane's cries were lost in the demanding cunt that engulfed half her 
face. Aiming directly between Jane's legs, Consuela brought the whip 
crashing down on the exposed pink flesh of her gaping cunt, the tip flicking 
inside and tearing at the membranes already throbbing with passion. 

"Eat, you bitch! Eat!" 

Her defenseless cunt with its portals wide open was lashed again and again. 
Jane opened her mouth to cry and found Consuela's rigid clitoris demanding 
entrance between her lips. She let her tongue dart out and run around the 
blood inflated member. Hot juice fell on her tongue and dropped into her 
mouth, its flavor reaching each tiny taste center, filling her mouth, her 
throat, her entire body. Jane realized that her mouth was as hungry as 
Consuela's cunt, yearning for and demanding the taste of sex. She let her 
tongue explore the fleshy region covering her face. The mass of wet hair was 
now grinding into her cheek, filling her nose, scratching her lips, slipping 
into her mouth. It ground against her tongue as she lavished the meal before 
her with a wild licking. 

Jane ran her tongue around the edges, through the folds and under the lips 
of Consuela's cunt. She let it dip down and sink deeply into the hot, 
yawning cavern, pulling Consuela's boiling juices into her eager mouth. 

"Sink it deeper and move it in slow circles!" Consuela commanded, reversing 
the whip in her hand and leaning forward to shove the knobbed end of the 
hard leather handle into Jane's vagina. She shoved it two inches into Jane's 
hot cunt and, with both hands on the hard handle, began moving it in and 
out. 

The tiny ball deep within Jane was already driving her to a height of 
physical pleasure she had never before known. Now this thing that felt like 
a hard cock at the entrance to her vagina was causing her hips to pump in a 
wild frenzy. She had her nose up Consuela's cunt while she held the erect 
clitoris between her teeth and flicked the end of her tongue against it. 
Jane bobbed her head up and down, sinking her nose as deeply as she could. 
Consuela's hips began rotating and grinding the heavy black brush against 
Jane's mouth. 

"Aagh!" Jane squealed as Consuela jabbed the whip handle deep inside her, 
touching the ball and causing it to bob back and forth against the walls 
surrounding her cervix. Jane sunk her teeth into Consuela's clitoris, biting 
down hard. 

"Uugghh! That's it, eat it before it eats you, you bitch!" Consuela 
screamed, ramming the whip handle hard into Jane's belly. "Eat it good!" 

The animal in Consuela took possession of her body as she felt her moment 
approaching. In a wild rage she cursed and ravaged Jane's helpless body with 
a savagery she had never realized was a part of her being. 

"I'm coming! Oh, God, I'm coming! Eeooww!" she cried, her dam breaking and 
hot, milky come flowing from deep inside her. It gushed out, filling Jane's 
eager mouth, running over and down Jane's chin, into her nose and eyes, 
covering her neck and sticking in her golden hair. 

Jane's release followed immediately, her lust juices flowing around the whip 
handle, streaming down the hard leather to cover Consuela's now limp hand 
with wet, sticky come. Jane felt it flow down the crevice between her 
buttocks, fill the puckered brown identation and rush in a river to the bed 
below. Her body arched as the vibrations of the ball made her climax last, 
and last, and last. 

There was a loud slurping noise of a wet suction broken as Consuela lifted 
her body gingerly and slid off the bed. She loosened the knots that held 
Jane with nervous fingers and staggered out of the room, leaving her bright 
green bikini on the floor where she had dropped it. 

Jane raised her hands in an effort to wipe some of the wetness from her 
glistening face, but her body was trembling so she couldn't control it. 
Trying to rise, she fell into a heap on her side, a nausea sweeping through 
her. She fell onto the floor and crawled into the bathroom where she 
vomited, her mind revolted by the betrayal of her body. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

It began an hour later. Jane was on the large bed, relaxing her exhausted 
body after the rigors it had been through. She had purged her system in the 
bathroom, and now she was trying to purge her mind. "This, too, shall pass," 
was only a dim echo in the far reaches of her brain now. She had to force 
herself to cope with something new in her life, the sensual side of her 
personality which had emerged under the hands of her tormentors. She knew 
she should have been repulsed by all that happened to her, yet she had to 
admit that she had experienced great pleasure. For the first time she felt a 
complete sense of physical satisfaction, and for the first time she was 
facing her base, animal nature. All of this threw Jane's conscience into a 
turmoil. 

"Hello, Jane. I'm Doctor Carl Gorman." 

The voice shocked her. She had been so deep in thought she had not heard him 
enter the room. She watched a short, but very muscular man in his early 
fifties pull one of the chairs from against the wall and place it beside the 
bed near her. 

"Are you the man who's keeping me here as a prisoner?" she asked quickly. 

"No, I'm afraid I work here like the others, Jane. It's important that you 
and I become friends. We're going to be spending a great deal of time 
together from now on." 

Jane stiffened, wondering what new torments this man was planning for her. 
Gorman noted the reaction and smiled. 

"Relax, Jane. All we're going to do is talk for a while. Under the 
circumstances, I don't expect you to like me, but I'm going to ask you to 
trust me. Together we'll explore some interesting areas of philosophy, 
theology and practical living. Your mind is troubled about what you've been 
through, perhaps I can help you. If you cooperate, maybe I can even help you 
get out of this situation. Fair enough?" 

Jane's entire being cried out to believe the man. She was physically 
exhausted and mentally confused. Here was help. Here was a way out! But a 
tiny warning bell rang in her mind. Why should he help her? He was one of 
those who were holding her here! 

"Cooperate? I don't understand." 

"As I explained, we'll have a series of long talks, friendly talks. We'll 
examine your life, try to bring it into focus and understand where you're 
going. 

It's like a painting, you'll give me the color and design and I'll try to 
help you frame it. It's about time you understood yourself, and I'm going to 
try to help you. All you have to do is talk, be honest in your answers, be 
willing to discuss both sides of every idea, study some new thoughts and 
discuss them with me. Okay?" 

Those were almost the words Doctor Bill had said to her! Could it be? No, it 
was impossible that Doctor Bill had anything to do with this. And yet...? 

"It doesn't look like I have' much choice, does it?" 

"You could have some more of what you've already been through." 

"If you know anything at all about me, you must know that I would do almost 
anything to avoid that!" 

"Well, Jane, that's what I want to do, learn all about you. Shall we begin?" 

Jane felt uncomfortable in her nakedness. She asked if she could use 
Consuela's bikini to cover herself, but Dr. Gorman told her he would rather 
she didn't. He explained that she had a lovely body, a body that men enjoyed 
seeing, and that she should not be ashamed to show it. 

Their conversation began with Jane relating her experiences as a child. The 
more she talked, the more relaxed she became, and when Dr. Gorman made no 
move to torture her exhausted body Jane's confidence returned. At first he 
let her ramble, the story of her life coming in bits and spurts as she 
relived her days in the orphanage. Then he began interupting her, asking 
revealing questions about her attitudes, her sexual fantasies, and even her 
masturbation. He discussed each phase with her objectively and Jane's 
confidence in him grew rapidly. She began to sincerely believe that he 
wanted to help her and not hurt her, and she in turn cooperated by telling 
him some of the deepest secrets of her life, things she had never told 
another living soul. 

"So you resented your father and mother, even though you never knew them?" 

"Yes, in a way, Doctor. You see, I was the fruit of their passion, but they 
refused to accept the responsibility that went with that passion. When you 
create something, you have a responsibility to that creation." 

"And don't you think that this attitude has crept into your entire feeling 
about sex?" 

"I don't believe I understand?" 

"Never mind," he replied, not wanting to take her too far too fast. "We'll 
come back to that later when we know more about what makes you tick." 

The conversation droned on and on, Jane warming to the subject of her life 
and the doctor making notes and asking questions. Two hours, then three 
passed. Jane became weary. Her narrative slowed and she became impatient 
with her choice of words. The doctor noted this and called their first 
session to an end. He explained that they would work together constantly, 
that she would be allowed four hour rest and sleep periods and that they 
would be together the rest of the time. 

"Before I leave," he said, "is there anything you want?" 

"I know you won't grant it to me, but what I want more than anything else is 
to get out of this room. Just for a few moments. I need a breath of fresh 
air, to see something besides the four walls of this room," she replied. 

"I'll make a deal with you," Dr. Gorman answered. "If I arrange a five 
minute walk outside, will you promise to read a book I give you? You'll be 
escorted, of course, and there will be no chance of escape. I think a little 
sunshine might be good for you." 

" Jane agreed eagerly. The doctor left the room and returned almost 
immediately with a bright colored robe and one of the men who had tied Jane 
down earlier. The man was given explicit instructions while Jane slipped 
into the robe. He took her by the arm and led her through the door. 

The bright sun hurt Jane's eyes at first and she had to squint and keep her 
head down until her pupils adjusted. The Mexican, dressed in white ducks, a 
white, short-sleeve shirt and white canvas shoes, held her arm in a 
vise-like grip as they walked slowly along under the blooming jacaranda 
trees. 

Jane's first impression was that she was in a tropical paradise. The air was 
warm, but very pleasant, and the fragrant blossoms invaded her being and 
sent her reeling. It was so beautiful, so calm, so quiet! The green turf 
beneath her bare feet was beautifully manicured, its soft texture reminding 
her of picnics and games the local country club sponsored for orphanages in 
Omaha. Although it was covered with a lush growth of greens, reds, and 
yellows, Jane could tell that the grounds were surrounded by a high fence 
making escape virtually impossible. 

In the distance, she saw the lovely gazebo, the flower-covered roof making 
it appear like a tropical island in the middle of a sea of green. 

"What's that?" she asked. 

"No hablo Ingles," the man replied. 

Jane regreted never having studied Spanish, but she was certain the man 
would not talk to her even if she addressed him in his own tongue. 

Surveying the grounds, she reflected that whoever owned this place had 
surrounded himself with beauty and therefore could not be completely evil. 
She studied everything she could see, trying to establish some pattern in 
her mind. She was certain there were clues here to the personality of the 
person who held her captive, and she desperately wanted to understand that 
personality. If I'm to survive, I must know my enemy, she thought. 

All too soon for Jane, her brief escape from the Game Room was over. The man 
led her back to the room, handed her a copy of a book called The True 
Believer by a man named Eric Hoffman, took the robe from her shoulders and 
pushed her into the familiar room. Blackness began to crowd Jane's mind as 
the door slammed shut, but she pushed it aside and sat down to keep her part 
of the bargain by reading the book. It was a deep work and Jane found she 
had to concentrate hard to grasp its meaning. 

They spent an hour discussing the book and Dr. Gorman was pleased when he 
saw that Jane had comprehended the author's message. He pointed out to her 
that the true believer was the most dangerous person on earth, a person who 
had lost human compassion out of blind obedience to a creed he or she barely 
understood. They had a spirited conversation and Dr. Gorman fairly beamed at 
the capacity of the mind with which he was working. When some of her own 
sacred ideas became involved, Gorman forced her to become objective and 
analyze her concepts. Jane fought him at times, but she always gave in to 
logic in the end. 

Learning that Jane was a rapid reader, Dr. Gorman increased the number of 
books he gave her each time they met. She read books that set out to prove 
that God was a creation of man, an entity roughly shaped from the clay of 
superstition to give man an excuse for being and relieve him from the burden 
of his conscience. She studied modern philosophies and the new concepts of 
morality. Nilism became more than a word, it was an idea, a way of life. 

Jane's mind was a turmoil. What she read often contradicted what she had 
been taught to believe, and equally often one book she was given would 
directly contradict another. Dr. Gorman explained that most human beings 
experienced doubt and inner turmoil when they embarked on a search for 
truth. 

"Up until now," he told her one day, "your life has been comfortable because 
you conveniently believed what you were told. You questioned nothing. 
Everything was absolute, definable in terms of right and wrong. Somebody 
told you this was right and that was wrong, and you accepted what they told 
you. It was simpler that way. You didn't have to think things out for 
yourself, you simply beheved and obeyed. 

"Now you're uncomfortable because you've been exposed to new ideas, because 
you have to reason everything out for yourself and make your own search for 
truth." 

Jane accepted this, never once thinking that her mind was being guided in a 
certain direction for a definite purpose. So adept was Dr. Gorman's handling 
of her, Jane actually believed that she was making her own decisions and 
forming her own ideas. 

Their sessions together became more frequent, more demanding on Jane's mind. 
Her rest periods were cut to three hours, then two hours, and the sessions 
continued around the clock. She became so fatigued she often fell asleep 
while they were talking, but the doctor shook her awake and made her 
continue. Jane lost all sense of time, eating whenever a meal was placed 
before her and sleeping the moment Dr. Gorman mercifully left the room. She 
was exhausted. Her mind was a battleground of ideas and her body ached from 
a lack of sleep. Dr. Gorman made her stand in the center of the room while 
they talked, forcing her to remain awake and on her feet for hours at a 
time. Twice she fell to the floor, but he picked her up immediately and made 
her stand without support of any kind. She begged him, pleaded with him to 
let her rest, but he insisted she go on. 

Once he pushed her roughly into the bathroom and turned on the cold water in 
the shower, holding her body under the icy stream until goose pimples 
appeared all over her creamy white skin. 

Jane felt they had been going like this for weeks, but in truth it was only 
her fourth day. 

"And how goes our little experiment, Doctor?" Senor Guzman asked. 

He had summoned Gorman to the gazebo. The exhausted man flopped into a chair 
and gulped a cup of hot coffee before replying. 

"Excellent!" he answered, his voice hoarse and weak from the strain. "I'm as 
exhausted as she is, but her mind has cracked. She no longer is certain of 
anything. She questions everything, even right and wrong. Ideas are lighting 
up her head like a pinball machine. She's exhausted, both physically and 
mentally, and that's how I wanted her." 

"And sex?" his employer asked, offering the doctor a cigarette. 

"Not yet. It's too early. Right now she's at the point of a nervous 
breakdown." He took the cigarette, lighted it and leaned back with his eyes 
closed as he continued. "I'm going to let her sleep six hours and get 
refreshed. Then I'll put her straight through until she falls from 
exhaustion again. Another six hours sleep after that and she should be 
completely in my control. That's when we'll begin with the sex program." 

"How's the ten-day deadline look?" 

"All right so far," Gorman answered, sleep almost overpowering him so that 
he brought his body forward in the chair with a jolt. "She had a regressive 
period about twelve hours ago. Went back to her original concepts of life 
and morality. I expected that and brought her through it. If we don't have 
another one, we'll make it in ten days. Of course a lot of this depends on 
how she reacts to sex when we get there." He stood up and looked through 
bloodshot eyes at his employer. "It also depends on my getting some sleep in 
between these sessions, Avillo. My body is going through the same thing hers 
is, you know. If there isn't anything more, I'd like to hit the sack for six 
hours." 

"My apologies, Doctor. I knew you'd be tired, but I did want to learn what 
progress you've made. By all means, get some rest. You look as though you 
need it. I'll see that you're not disturbed." 

You'd better not fail us, Guzman thought to himself as he watched the 
doctor's stocky form, the shoulders stooped and the feet dragging, slowly 
climb the gentle slope to the main house. He'd already made up his mind that 
the doctor's usefulness to the organization was gone when the Jane Horner 
incident came up. Regardless of how this came out, Gorman was through. If he 
failed, the punishment would have to be very severe, something to set an 
example for others. 

Jane was refreshed when she awakened, but within two hours she was crying 
and beating her fists helplessly against the bed. The doctor was relentless, 
without mercy in his sharp question and demands for answers. One time she 
had refused to answer and Dr. Gorman walked up to her and slapped her in the 
face. When she broke down and began crying, he again pulled her to her feet 
and slapped her face. This time his hand swept back and forth across her 
face leaving bright pink skin in its wake. 

"What do you want of me?" she screamed as she refused to stand, letting her 
body fall in a heap on the floor each time he picked her up. 

A man was summoned and Jane was tied by the wrists to a chain that suddenly 
appeared from the silk folds on the ceding. She was jerked to a standing 
position with her arms above her head, her toes barely touching the floor. 
Her shoulders ached and the muscles under her arms felt like they were 
straining to the breaking point. The questioning continued, cruel slaps 
stinging against her face when she hesitated in her answers. She fainted. 

When Jane came to, her will to resist was gone. Her body ached all over and 
she could not find a comfortable position for her arms. No matter how she 
turned, they ached and throbbed. Despite the six hours sleep she was 
exhausted, mentally and physically. Nothing seemed to matter. Jane's faith, 
once her crutch in every crisis, was now gone. She doubted everything, even 
her own existence. Her appetite was gone. For the past several days eating 
had been more mechanical than anything else. Very little of the old Jane 
Horner was left, except her will to survive, and this was now only a dim 
echo somewhere in the background. 

Dr. Gorman came into the room. He wore a crisp, fresh shirt and pressed 
slacks. His face was clean shaven and he smelled of a pleasant, mild 
cologne. In his hand he carried a long instrument that reminded Jane of a 
large flashlight, except that it had a wooden handle on one end and three 
prongs on the other. 

"Good afternoon, Jane," he greeted her with a bright smile. "It's time to 
begin the second phase of your education, something you'll enjoy much more 
than what we've been doing. How do you feel?" 

"Terrible! I'm exhausted, Doctor. You're not going to chain me to the 
ceiling again, are you?" 

"Oh, I hope that won't be necessary, Jane. If you do just exactly what I 
tell you, you'll have lots of fun and we won't have any trouble." 

Jane nodded her head. She would do whatever he wanted her to. She wanted to 
please him, to make his every wish her command. He could bring her happiness 
or make her suffer. She knew that, and she wanted to have him pleased with 
her. She mustn't do anything that would make him angry. She owed a great 
deal to him. He had opened her eyes to things she never knew existed, helped 
her to understand her life, led her to the brink of a better life. She was 
his slave. 

"We're going to do nothing but talk about and practice sex, Jane. I know 
you're tired of talking. And I think you realize that I know more about sex 
than you do, so let me do most of the talking and you just listen." 

He pulled one of the large chairs from the wall and sat down beside the bed. 
Laying the long instrument down on the bed, he began talking to her in a 
quiet but firm voice. He explained to her that the male penis was the most 
important thing in her life, that because of it she was alive and capable of 
enjoying great pleasure. Jane listened as he went on to explain that she 
could only enjoy pleasure herself when she gave pleasure to others. He said 
that it was his job to teach her sex, show her how to bring the maximum 
amount of pleasure to others and enjoy it herself. 

Dr. Gorman made her stretch out on her back, her knees in the air, her feet 
planted flatly against the fur cover, and her thighs spread wide with her 
tender pink slit fully exposed. He handed her a book and told her to read in 
that position. 

Jane had never seen anything like the book she had in her hands. It was a 
lurid account of sex with photographs on each page. The first photograph 
showed a beautiful woman with a man's penis in her mouth. It was a close-up 
and Jane could see the enlarged veins along the shaft of the man's very 
erect organ, the girl's sensuous lips seeking to pull the large organ in her 
mouth. The next photo was of a woman with her legs spread wide apart. A 
man's head was buried between her thighs, his ears pressed against the soft, 
yielding flesh. The woman's vagina was plainly visible in the photograph, as 
was the man's tongue and what it was doing to her genital area. Jane felt a 
quickening between her own thighs as she remembered the delights she had 
experienced under hot, searing tongues not too long ago. 

She lifted the book a few inches and looked down between her legs when she 
felt probing fingers spreading the lips of her vagina. Dr. Gorman was 
leaning forward in his chair, his hand buried in the soft folds of her cunt. 
His probing fingers found her clitoris and he began manipulating it while 
she read. 

The next photo was of two women with their heads buried in each other's 
crotch. Jane's body almost melted when she remembered what Consuela had done 
to her and the way she had reacted. She was turning the pages faster now, 
the erotic photos and Dr. Gorman's eager fingers pushing her up the scale of 
passion. When she came upon a photo of a man mounted on top of a woman with 
his large, erect penis shoving deep inside the girl's belly, Jane felt her 
pulse quicken. She stared at the photo and imagined herself beneath the man, 
his rod probing her deepest regions, his balls bouncing against the cheeks 
of her exposed buttocks. Her body went into short spasms as Dr. Gorman 
placed more pressure on her clitoris, and Jane heard an involuntary groan 
escaape from her lips. She couldn't control herself. She was plummeting from 
the crest of the waterfall and she was powerless to stop herself. 

"Ahh!" she sighed as she reached a small climax. "Now wasn't that fun, 
Jane?" Dr. Gorman asked. 

She turned her head away, somehow embarrassed about what had happened to 
her. Dr. Gorman continued. 

"You see what great pleasure your body can give you? Well, now we must teach 
you how to share that pleasure with others. Jane, I want you to suck my 
cock." 

She didn't move. Jane heard him, but she simply couldn't move her body. 

"Jane, suck my cock! Now!" 

She still couldn't move her body. She heard him reach for something on the 
bed, and then her body jumped as a shock of electric current ran through her 
body. 

"I know your mind wants you to do what I ask, Jane. Sometimes your body just 
refuses to react. We'll take care of that with this little prod. It carries 
fifteen volts, and it can hurt, Jane. Keep that in mind and do what I tell 
you. Suck my cock, Jane!" 

Jane was sitting rigidly upright on the bed, but she remained motionless. 
Her eyes fixed on the doctor's. She saw a steel will she had never seen 
there before. It frightened her and she remained still. He reached out and 
placed the prongs at the end of the instrument against her bare breast and 
pressed the button. 

"Aargh!" she cried as fifteen volts surged into her breast and through her 
body. Her legs kicked wildly and she fell on her side, every muscle in her 
body stiff and unyeilding. Gorman reached out and placed the prongs between 
her white hillocks, touching the brown dot deep in her crevice. He flicked 
the button and Jane's body flew into the air. "AAaaeeii!" she screamed as 
she fell off the bed onto the floor. 

"Suck my cock, Jane!" 

She scrambeled to her knees and flung her body between his legs. Her hands 
fumbled helplessly with the fly on his pants and finally got it open. She 
reached in and pulled, tugged his swollen member out and placed in in her 
mouth. Her mind was that of an animal. Her muscles tensed for the next 
shock, but none came. 

"You see, nothing will happen to you when you do what you're told, Jane. Use 
your tongue and suck it!" 

Life became a living hell for Jane Horner. Dr. Gorman was at her constantly 
with his instrument of torture, making her do all sorts of things to him and 
punishing her severely if she hesitated for only a moment. His penis became 
her god: she kissed it, licked it, fondled it and let him put it in every 
opening of her body. It was only when she was taking proper care of his 
penis that she was safe from the electric current shooting into her body. 

She was never free of the sound of his voice. He talked constantly, telling 
her about all forms of sex and how she must conduct herself. His voice was 
an echo pounding into her brain relentlessly. Each day the echo became 
stronger, until finally Jane could hear it even when he was not in the room 
with her. 

When they were together, Jane was required to sit on the floor in front of 
him with her head in his lap. Erect or limp, it was Jane's duty to keep his 
penis in her mouth at all times. It became automatic for her. She felt 
content when she had his penis in her mouth. She was safe from the long 
silver colored instrument, and that was the meaning of her life, to stay 
safely away from that object of terror. 

"Undress me!" he commanded one morning when he walked into the room. 

Jane rushed to him and began taking his clothes off. She held his penis in 
one hand fondling it while she used the other hand to unbutton his shirt and 
slip his clothes off. When he was naked, he placed his hand on her shoulder 
and pushed her down to her knees. 

"Get behind me and lick my asshole, Jane!" he commanded. "I want you to lick 
it clean and then sink your tongue as far as you can up my ass." 

Jane hesitated a moment too long. He took the instrument, which was now 
always strapped to his wrist, and placed it so that the prongs at the tip 
touched the lips of her pink slit. He held the button down and Jane's body 
writhed across the floor at his feet. She scrambeld to her knees and crawled 
around behind him. Taking the tan globes of his buttocks in her hands, Jane 
separated them and ran her tongue deep into the crevice. Pushing the wiry 
hairs at the entrance aside with the tip of her tongue, she licked the small 
brown bud that puckered before her. She made her tongue stiff and jabbed it 
inside the rubbery hole, moving it as far up as she could. Reaching between 
his legs, Jane took his throbbing penis in her hand. It was only then that 
she could feel safe. 

Hours were spent breaking the language barrier. Dr. Gorman used the shining 
silver instrument as a pointer on Jane's body. 

"What's this?" he asked, touching her breast with the prongs. 

"My breast ... Aaeeii!" 

"What is it?" 

"I don't know what you want me to say ... Aaeeii! It's my TIT!" 

"That's better. Now what's this?" he said placing the prongs against the 
golden crested mound between her legs. 

"My vagina ... AAeeii! My cunt. My PUSSY!" 

"And this?" 

"My ass! Please don't do it again! Please!" 

"And this I have in my hand?" 

"Your penis ... Aaiiee! Your COCK! Please! Please, no more! I can't stand 
it!" 

"What do you do to my cock?" 

"I suck it. I lick it. I love it!" 

"And what do you like to do most?" 

"Fuck-Fuck-FUCK! I love to fuck!" 

This was drilled into her hour after hour until her answers were automatic, 
without hesitation. She would meet him at the door each time he entered the 
room with the plea, "Please let me suck your cock!" 

Jane's mind became the servant of her body. 

On the eighth day Dr. Gorman brought one of the young men who worked on the 
estate into the room with him. He had the man strip down and then ordered 
Jane to kneel before the man and take his penis in her mouth. Jane hesitated 
a moment too long and Dr. Gorman jabbed the instrument between her legs and 
held the button down. Her body jerked and she fell to the floor screaming. 
He followed her, leaned down and placed the prongs in the crevice between 
her buttocks. Jane's body jerked again, and this time she raced to the other 
man and gobbled his erect penis into her mouth. She ran her tongue over its 
olive surface and sucked it eagerly, paying homage to the one thing that 
provided her any safety. 

"Now kiss him, Jane!" 

She pulled herself to her feet, one hand holding and fondling his penis. 
Placing her other arm around the man's neck, she planted her lips against 
his and probed his mouth with her moist tongue. 

"Have him fuck you, Jane!" 

She guided the man to the bed, her hand holding his penis like a handle. She 
placed herself on her back with her legs spread wide. 

"Fuck me. Please fuck me!" she pleaded with the man. 

He needed no further invitation. Positioning himself above her, he rammed 
his throbbing cock deep inside her belly and began a thrusting motion that 
made his balls slap against the white cheeks of Jane's ass. She gave herself 
completely to the pleasure the hot, surging cock was creating in her 
innermost depths. Her body went into spasms and she locked her legs behind 
his buttocks, pushing in with her heels to sink him even deeper inside her. 
Jane's nails raked his back and her tongue sunk far into his throat as their 
lips tangled in a hungry embrace. 

"Fuck me. Harder! Sink that cock deeper!" she moaned as they both climbed 
the ladder of passion step by step. Her feet were beating his buttocks and 
her fists pounded his back like a kettle drum. 

"FUCK. FUCK, YOU BASTARD!" she screamed as her passion mounted. 

The man's hips became a ram, battering his piston on long, deep strokes up 
her cunt. Their bodies moved in a frantic motion and then, with a mighty 
convulsion, went rigid. 

"Aargh!" she moaned deeply in her throat as she felt his molten juices 
spurting up inside her. Her own white, hot come encased his cock and boiled 
down his balls and over her cheeks. The man went to raise his body, but 
Jane's legs locked around him. 

"NO! Fuck me again! Keep that cock inside me and fuck!" she insisted. 

The man took a moment to recover, then began moving his hips once more. Dr. 
Guzman smiled, the sweet taste of victory and success in his mouth. 

"I think she's almost ready," Dr. Gorman said, a satisfied smile on his face 
as he sat with Senor Guzman and Mark Wilson in the gazebo on the morning of 
the ninth day. "Of course all of this is tenuous at best. It's been done 
much too rapidly and she could slip into a regressive state at any time." 

Mark had just returned from El Paso, Texas, where he had handled an 
emergency public relations problem for the organization when one of the 
Juarez warehouses had been raided unexpectedly. His bag had been sent to his 
room and he'd come directly to the gazebo for breakfast. 

"Bring me up to date. I've been out of circulation almost all week," he 
said. 

"Oh it's a long story, Mark," Guzman replied. "The doctor has had Miss 
Horner on a conditioning program, turning her into a sex machine as it were. 
Right, Doctor?" 

"It could loosely be referred to as brainwashing, Mark, and I've had some 
remarkable success," the doctor answered as he signaled for a fresh cup of 
coffee. "In fact, I propose a small test. At this point Miss Horner needs 
some carrots dangled before her, some rewards for performing well. If you 
gentlemen don't mind a good blow-job before breakfast, I'd like to have her 
brought out here and make her perform. If she does well, I propose that she 
be allowed to remain here and have breakfast with us. That would be quite a 
treat after being caged in that room so long. She won't be allowed to talk 
to us until after she has sucked all three of us off. Then we'll engage her 
in polite conversation for a while. Senor?" 

"I'm not exactly in the mood to have my cock sucked, but it's your 
experiment, Doctor. I'm game if Mark is." 

"By all means!" Mark enjoined. "It'll be a novel experience, and I'm dying 
to see the new Miss Jane Horner." 

Jane, warned in advance to prepare herself, appeared on the arm of one of 
the men a few minutes later. Her golden hair was combed and hung in smooth, 
soft waves to her shoulders. Her lips were a bright red, thanks to a 
lipstick borrowed from Consuela by Dr. Gorman. She wore a loose-fitting 
white silk robe and her eyes sparkled brightly at the prospect of being 
allowed out of the room. 

"I don't think you need that robe with us, Jane," Dr. Gorman said softly. 
"Why don't you take it off?" 

Jane immediately loosened the belt and let the robe drop to her feet. Her 
large, ripe breasts quivered in the fresh air and she stood with her legs 
slightly parted so that the men could see the lips of her pink slit beneath 
the golden hair on her mound. 

She cupped her breasts in her hands as Dr. Gorman had taught her and slowly 
swung her body in a full circle so that every inch of her creamy white skin 
came under their close scrutiny. 

"My congratulations, Doctor," Guzman said. "Her body is perfect! Not a 
scratch on it." 

"Jane," the doctor commanded, "I want you to get on your knees under the 
table here and suck each of our cocks. You're to suck until each of us fills 
your mouth with hot come. Do you understand?" 

Jane nodded her head and moved to the table. She dropped to her knees and 
crawled underneath. 

"Begin with this man," the doctor said, indicating Senor Guzman. "And if you 
do well there will be a lovely reward for you." 

Jane scooted beneath the table, pulled Senor Guzman's legs apart, positioned 
herself between his knees and placed her head in his lap and unbuttoned the 
fly of his pants. She reached inside and pulled his limp organ out, planting 
small kisses along its soft shaft and running her tongue over the head. The 
feel of his jet black pubic hair against her lips excited her and she slowly 
sucked the soft rod fully into her mouth, capturing the small sack below in 
her hand and fondling it as she moistened his cock with her hungry tongue. 
She felt a quiver, then a tiny jerk in her mouth as his prick began to 
respond to her ravenous attack. It began to swell, pushing her tongue to the 
floor of her mouth and touching all sides with its increasing hardness. She 
pulled it out of her mouth and ran her tongue up and down the shaft. Then 
she nibbled on it gently, allowing her teeth to barely trace a line as she 
ran them along the swollen member. She licked the veins that stood out on 
the now fully erect prick and became excited as she felt a shudder in his 
thighs which were pressed against her shoulders. Jane's lips captured the 
head of the cock between them and began sucking it firmly into her eager 
mouth. 

"Tell me about Juarez, Mark," Guzman said, ignoring the girl with her head 
in his lap. 

Jane was surprised that the man could talk while his cock was so demanding 
in her mouth. She told herself she would just have to try harder. 

"It wasn't much," Mark replied. "Mainly a foul-up on the part of Carlos. He 
hadn't paid the right man. There's a new inspector up there and Carolos was 
a little late in making the standard arrangement with him. Our merchandise 
was confiscated, but I've arranged for it to be returned once everything 
quiets down. The newspapers took some handling, but it's all taken care of 
now. I would suggest we ship a new stock in right away. It could be a couple 
of months before everything's returned and we might run short for a while." 

"Holy Mother of God! This girl can really suck a cock!" Guzman moaned. 

Jane felt him approaching the moment and doubled her efforts. Her head 
bobbed up and down rapidly, her tongue wrapped around the surging member as 
she pulled it in and out of her mouth. 

She felt the balls in her hand tighten, and then a gush of hot liquid raced 
into her mouth and down her throat. A feeling of perfect contentment flowed 
through Jane's body. She was pleased with herself. She used her probing 
tongue to wash his moist prick clean and then put it back in his pants, 
scooting across the floor to wedge herself between Mark's knees. 

Senor Guzman was about to comment on Jane's performance, but the doctor 
placed his finger to his lips and cut him short. Guzman took the reprimand 
without comment, poured another cup of coffee, and lighted a cigarette. 

"I'll take care of that today, Mark," he said. "Should I send a full 
shipment to replace what was confiscated?" 

"I would," Mark replied, his mind elsewhere as the voracious mouth on his 
cock-head sent delights shooting through his blood-inflated penis. He looked 
down and saw Jane's golden hair framed against his black slacks. Who would 
have believed it? he asked himself as he watched her head bob up and down. 
She had one hand locked around the base of his organ, squeezing tight as she 
ran it in and out of her hot mouth. With the other hand she was playing with 
his balls, applying the exact amount of pressure to excite him. 

He was as surprised as she was when his cock shot forth a steaming load of 
juice into her eager mouth. He'd had no warning, just suddenly exploded deep 
into her throat. 

"Aahh!" he said, sitting back and lighting a cigarette. "That's the way to 
start the day!" 

Jane licked him dry and moved over to place her head in Dr. Gorman's lap. 
She took his semi-erect penis her her hand and began licking it as the 
conversation continued above her. She knew they were trying to ignore her, 
but she felt triumphant in having overcome two of them already. 

"What's this I heard about the Fedrales burning one of our fields the other 
day?" Mark asked, his senses returning. 

"Politics, Mark, just politics," Guzman replied. "They had to have a field 
to burn to make headlines and please their American friends, especially with 
the conference coming on this weekend. They called me and we bickered about 
what field I'd let them have. I gave them the one in Morelia." 

"You gave it to them?" Mark asked incredulous-ly- 

"I didn't have much choice, did I? They had to burn a field of marijuana 
somewhere to keep the newspapers and the Americans happy. I tried to give 
them a smaller one, but they insisted it had to be something large. So I had 
the men harvest what they could and then clear out. One has to be practical, 
Mark." 

The word marijuana registered in Jane's mind, but only as a dim echo. It was 
the first time she had heard the word down here and it should have told her 
a great deal. But Jane's mind was consumed with the job before her, sucking 
Dr. Gorman's cock. He was holding her head with his hands now and plunging 
his swollen prick deep into her mouth. She knew his release would come soon 
and she let her teeth scrape the shaft as he plunged in and out, her tongue 
wrapping around the throbbing organ. His hands pressed her head hard into 
his lap, mashing her lips into the wiry pubic hair at the base of his cock. 
She opened her lower lip wide and sucked part of his balls into her mouth as 
she felt him begin shooting the hot liquid into her. It seared her throat 
and raced to her belly, and Jane felt completely satisfied with herself. 

They told Jane to get out from under the table and allowed her to put the 
robe on. Mark stood and offered her a chair, and she sat down with them. At 
a signal, breakfast was served, and they all chatted. Jane was the center of 
the conversation, and each man told her how pleased he was with her. 

When she admired some of the flowers in the garden near the gazebo, Senor 
Guzman sent one of the maids over and had her pick some blooms and bring 
them to Jane. 

Jane was happy, happier than she had been in a long, long time. People were 
talking to her, treating her like a human being, making her feel wanted. And 
she was out of that awful room! Lately she felt that the walls of the Game 
Room were closing in on her. She had wakened in a cold sweat several times, 
certain that the walls were upon her and smothering her. Now she was 
outside! The sun was shining, and everything smelled so marvelous! When Mark 
offered to take her for a stroll through the estate, she jumped up and took 
his arm with enthusiasm. 

"What do you think?" Dr. Gorman asked as he and Guzman watched Jane and Mark 
walk through the gardens hand in hand. 

"Excellent!" his employer replied. "Truly excellent! How long will it hold?" 

"Oh, it could be permanent, if we had the proper time to finish the task. 
She may go into another regressive state, but we can even handle that, with 
time." 

"Can she take an orgy?" 

"I don't know. I think so, Avillo, but I'm not sure. She might break down, 
but I don't think so." 

Senor Guzman came to his feet and walked to the edge of the gazebo in deep 
concentration. 

"What I have in mind, Doctor, will be quite costly and require some 
arrangements. We can hardly afford to take a chance of her breaking down in 
the middle." 

"Then I would suggest we gamble. It might set us back a few days or a week, 
but there is one way to find out how complete the conversion really is." 

"What's that?" 

"A return match with Paco. That's a shock for any woman. If Jane makes it 
through that, she'll make it through any orgy. Paco has already had her, and 
Jane detests him. If she can take him on and enjoys it, I'd say we were 
safe." 

Guzman looked at the young couple walking along down by the stream. He could 
hear Jane's laughter as Mark obviously made funny remarks about the stream. 
He let his gaze wander to the sky and the dark, heavy clouds in the east. 

"Arrange it for this afternoon. It'll give us something to do when the rains 
come." 

 CHAPTER TEN 

Jane was elated. The breakfast and the walk through the grounds with Mark 
had given her a new lease on life. She had escaped from her prison for what 
she judged to be at least two hours. And there was the promise of more to 
come! 

She was back in the Game Room, but somehow she didn't seem to mind. The 
terror was still here, but Jane was certain she could control it. Yes, she 
thought, the end is in sight. But what end? She felt she was waiting for 
something, but what? This was a problem she did not disclose even to Gorman. 
Jane Horner was losing her memory. She could remember things only in 
flashes. They would come for one blinding instant and then leave her blank. 

Sex was all that was important. She knew there was something else, but she 
refused to think about it. She pushed it into the hidden reaches of her 
mind, blotting it from her thoughts like an ink stain from a white dress. 
There was still a gray, murky pattern there, but Jane refused to let it 
interfere and conveniently blocked it from her thoughts. 

Something important had happened at breakfast. She remembered promising 
herself she would think about it later, but now it was gone from her mind. 
It nagged her and she tried to concentrate, but her mind soon wandered to 
the beauty of the estate. If only she would be allowed to go outside often! 
And that man. Mark, he said his name was. He was so handsome, so strong, so 
sure of himself! Jane felt a strong attraction for him. It pleased her to 
think she had sucked his cock and had his white come in her stomach. 

What had the doctor told her? Oh yes, something about another test this 
afternoon. If she passed it, he said, she would have an even greater 
surprise. Maybe she would even be given a room of her own and allowed to go 
outside all she wanted! Did he say that, or was she imagining it? 

Jane spun around as she heard the door at the end of the room open. A smile 
creased her face as she saw Gorman enter. It turned quickly to a frown when 
she saw that he carried the long silver colored instrument in his hand. He 
saw her gaze and the terror in her eyes. 

"Don't be concerned, Jane, I won't use this unless I absolutely have to," he 
said. "I've just brought it with me in case. I told you there would be 
another test, and I want to be certain that you pass it with flying colors." 

Paco walked into the room and Jane felt a shudder race through her body when 
she saw his ugly shape. Paco noticed her reaction and grinned at her, a drop 
of saliva oozing from his mouth as he contemplated her nude body. A shiver 
raced through Jane as she saw the lust in his eyes when he stared at her 
proud breasts and wet his lips. Through instinct, Jane involuntarily 
attempted to cover herself with her hands. Paco gave out a mean laugh when 
she did this and Gorman held the electric prod in plain sight so that Jane 
could not mistake his intention. 

"You may remember Paco, Jane. You've had the pleasure of his cock before. 
This time I want you to make love to him. You may begin by sucking his 
cock." 

Jane shivered. In a blinding flash she remembered everything Paco had done 
to her. She could see his oversized cock staring down at her, a steaming 
river of yellow liquid shooting at her face and covering her body like 
slime. She feh the muscles around her anus tighten as a memory of the pain 
she had suffered there flooded through her. Nausea gripped her belly as she 
remembered his ugly body grotesquely heaving on top of her. For a moment she 
thought she was going to faint. 

Gorman took a step forward, the silver colored instrument held horizontally 
before him. Paco leered at Jane. 

Mark felt a sudden chill run through him as he leaned forward in his chair 
to watch the drama unfolding before him in the Game Room. He saw Jane frozen 
in one spot, her breasts heaving and a frown creasing her forehead, and he 
wondered what she would do. The significance of the instrument in Gorman's 
hand was lost on Mark, but from the anguish in Jane's eyes as she glanced at 
it Mark knew she held it in terror. 

He glanced at his employer sitting next to him. Guzman was leaning way back 
in his chair, smoking a cigarette casually as he watched Jane's every 
movement. 

"What's that thing Gorman has in his hand?" Marked asked. 

"A modified version of a cattle prod. It's battery operated and delivers a 
full fifteen-volt shock. Won't damage a human being, but hurts like all helL 
I hope he doesn't have to use it. She's had it for almost four days now, so 
she should know enough to keep out of its way." 

Consuela was sitting on the other side of Guzman, her hand in his lap 
stroking his limp penis. 

"If he does give it to her, I hope he hits her asshole with it. That really 
makes them jump. Sometimes they lose all control and shit right on the 
spot!" she said. 

"You're a mean bitch today," Guzman chuckled. 

A resolve formed in Mark's mind. Nothing he could yet define, it was a seed 
which he knew he must carefully nurture to maturity. 

It seemed to Jane that she was rooted on the floor, unable to move even 
though she commanded her body to act. Gorman moved rapidly to her side, 
placed the ice cold prongs against her left nipple and pressed the button. 

"Aaeeii!" she screamed as the electricity jolted her system. She fell to her 
knees and, clutching the fur of the carpet between her straining fingers, 
pulled herself to Paco's feet. She wrapped her arms around his legs and 
pulled herself to a kneeling position before him. Her fingers fought the 
zipper on his fly for a moment and then pulled it down. She shot her hand 
inside his pants, pushing aside all obstacles and grasped his giant organ 
firmly in her hand. Pulling it up from where its head was captured in the 
leg of his slacks, Jane managed to free the partially erect monster from its 
nest. 

"My god, what a cock!" she said in almost reverent tones. She had been 
taught that the male penis was an idol, and this must be the king of all 
idols! The partially erect organ laid in her palms like a snake coiling 
itself to strike. The head was a deep red, almost the color of raw liver. 
Wrinkles went through the skin near the head of the long shaft and Jane 
could feel it begin to fill with blood. She forced herself to forget the man 
and concentrate on his magnificent cock. Bending her head forward, she began 
planting wet kisses all along the shaft. Then she ran her tongue back and 
forth, coating his cock with a glistening moisture. Her tongue found the 
deep ridge just beneath the swollen head and traced it in a slow, circling 
motion. Blood rushed into the large piston causing the skin to expand and 
great purple veins to pop out along the sides. 

Jane reached into Paco's slacks and pulled the heavy sack with its two 
swollen pears out in her hand. It was so large and heavy she had to hold it 
in both hands, black hair squeezing its way through her-tight fingers. She 
let her tongue dart into the hole at the tip of the throbbing cock, and then 
her lips parted to surround the head. 

Paco stared down at the soft white flesh kneeling before him. The ruby red 
lips holding the very tip of his turgid member framed by the creamy white 
skin and soft golden hair excited him. He saw her dainty hands holding his 
balls, cupping them like a religious offering. Strength flooded his veins. 
They've brought you down a few pegs, gringo bitch, he said to himself. It's 
about time you paid honor to a man's prick! He reached out and grabbed 
handfuls of blonde hair and pulled Jane's head forward, sinking his tumid 
shaft deep into her mouth. 

It almost gagged her, but Jane was more excited than she had ever been. Even 
the foul odor of Paco's body excited her. She dropped his balls and placed 
both hands around the shaft of his god-like prick, lapping it with her 
tongue and filling her mouth with it. Her jaws ached from stretching wide to 
get the large cock inside her eager, hungry mouth, but Jane nibbled, licked, 
pulled and sucked like a child nursing its mother's breast. Paco held her 
hair tightly and began moving his hips, thrusting his prick deeper and 
deeper into her throat. 

Gorman backed slowly away and seated himself in a chair along the wall. He 
regreted the use of the prod, but he was satisfied with what he saw before 
him. Jane was attacking Paco's prick with a great hunger, and Gorman knew 
this would please his employer. 

Jane pulled the throbbing cock from her mouth and ran her nose along the top 
of its long shaft until she buried it deep in the thick, matted pubic hair 
at the root. This was the seat of the pungent odor and she wanted to wallow 
in it. The smell both repelled and excited her. She ran her nose deep into 
the matted pubic hair and inhaled. Her tongue darted out and licked his 
heavy sack, then flattened itself along the bottom of his shaft. Placing her 
nose on top of his cock, she captured the blood inflated member between her 
nose and tongue and ran from the base to the head and back. 

Paco's body began to shake, his hips thrusting with hard jabs as his passion 
mounted. I'd like to ram this thing clear down her throat and rest my balls 
on her chin while I pumped my load through her and watched it come dripping 
out of her asshole, Paco thought! He took it in his hand and ran it across 
her forehead leaving little tracks of glistening come from the drops that 
were beginning to ooze out of him. He poked it in her eye and ran it down 
her nose. Jane grabbed it and jammed it into her mouth as if she was trying 
to swallow him whole. Paco's legs became weak. He was close to coming, but 
he wanted to save that for later. He pulled her off his cock, lifted her 
body and pushed her back until she landed on the bed. Then he literally 
ripped his clothes off his back. 

Kicking his shoes off, he limped to the bed and pulled Jane's legs wide 
apart as he fell between them. The bright pink flesh gleaming through the 
soft golden hair surrounding her cunt was more than Paco could stand. His 
tongue swept across his lips and drops of saliva oozed from the corners of 
his mouth. He let his face fall on her soft mound with a loud thump. 

Jane felt the searing tongue roll to a point and probe deep into her anus, 
then flatten and lap her entire vagina with one long, wet swipe. Her hips 
began rotating as she felt him roll his tongue into another point and slide 
it just under the pulsating lips of her quivering vagina. Round and round it 
went, and each time it passed the entrance to her hidden reaches, it darted 
in and sunk almost to her belly. Then the hot probe found her clitoris, now 
erect and extended from a deep passion growing inside her. Jane gasped as he 
grabbed her clitoris and it rolled inside his searing tongue, then sucked it 
until her whole body quivered with delight. 

"Aagh! Yes! YES! Eat it! Chew it! Aahh!" 

She watched his head bob up and down, only the hairline and eyebrows visible 
above her mound. When he began lapping her with his tongue, she saw the tip 
come over the golden crest between her legs. The blood raced through her 
body, perspiration formed in tiny puddles between her heaving breasts and 
ran from her forehead. Her hands shot down and grabbed his hair, pulling him 
deeper and deeper into her crotch. She brought her thighs in against his 
ears and pressed as his demanding tongue made her hips sway in a wild 
frenzy. 

"Eat that cunt! Oh, god, that's soo good! Now. NOW! Oohh!" 

Jane's cunt contracted and pulled Paco's tongue deep inside, holding it and 
moving against it on all sides. Hot come flowed from her gaping orifice 
covering Paco's face, dripping into his mouth, running from his nose and 
chin and falling into a gleaming puddle on the fur cover. Paco pulled 
himself up and fell on top of Jane's hot body, pressing his face into hers 
and running his dripping tongue into her mouth so that she could taste the 
salty sweetness of her own come. She wrapped her tongue around his and 
sucked on it. Then she pulled back and licked his face, cleaning the 
glistening, warm come from his lips and nose. 

Jane felt his tumid weapon battering against her thigh. She reached down and 
grasped it in her hand, guiding it to the quivering, hungry opening between 
her legs. 

"Fuck me, Paco! Fuck me as hard as you can. Fill my cunt with hot come! 
Please fuck me!" she pleaded. 

The pain from the first thrust shot through her body. It seared into her 
brain, down through her chest, into her groin. She tried to muffle her 
scream by burying her head into his neck, but it roared from her lips 
anyway. 

"Uugghh!" 

He jabbed again, using his hips as a ram to push his oversized cock deeper 
into her belly. He felt her nails dig into his back, her hand grabbing skin 
tightly to try to hold on as he punished her with his monstrous prick. Tiny 
drops of blood ran down his back from where her nails broke the skin and 
this goaded him on to thrust even deeper. He wanted to sink it so far into 
the gringo bitch he could watch the head of his cock emerge from her mouth, 
blood dripping from it as a result of the walls it tore down as it raced 
through her white body. 

"Aagh!" Jane screamed as Paco .gave a final lunge and sunk his cock clear to 
its hairy root inside her. She felt it ram against her cervix and try to 
open new channels in her body. She felt like a mighty sword was rammed 
through her stomach, nailing her to the bed and cutting her every time she 
moved. 

Grabbing her tits like handles, Paco reared up and began pounding his 
surging cock up her. His heavy balls bounced against her ass, bruising the 
soft white skin and breaking the silence of the room with a loud slapping 
noise. 

The pain was gone, and the pleasure was more than Jane could bear. Her head 
flipped from side to side, her fists beat on the bed, her body went into 
convulsions, arching to take his cock even deeper inside her belly. She felt 
the sack swell and become even heavier as it slapped against her ass, but 
Jane was beyond caring. Her only thought was of her own release. It came on 
her like a dam bursting. 

The hot fluid gushing from his prick left steaming trails as it seared 
through her body. She felt the head dance against her cervix, bursts of hot 
come flooding her cunt and mixing with her own lust liquid. 

"Don't stop!" she screamed. "Please don't stop! Fuck deeper. Harder! Oh, 
that's it! That's it! Oh God! Oh! Oh! Oh! OH! Aahh!" 

Their bodies went limp and they remained motionless. Paco collapsed on top 
of her, letting her heaving tits press into his chest. She contracted the 
muscles of her vagina to pull the last drop out of his giant cock. Paco 
answered her with a jerk of his own. 

"Jane!" the doctor's voice cut through the sweet haze that engulfed her. "I 
want you to lick Paco's cock clean and get him hard again so that he can 
fuck your ass." 

Paco rolled over on his back and Jane buried her head in his black pubic 
hair. It was covered with their white, sticky come and she licked it eagerly 
with her tongue. Holding his deflated member in her hand Jane ran her tongue 
all over it, pulling the salty, thick liquid into her mouth. 

Paco looked down his scarred body and watched her swab him clean. That's 
what you're good for, you gringo bitch, cleaning a man's cock! Her hungry 
attack excited him and he again felt blood rushing to his organ. You'll swab 
the shit off it when I finish with you, he thought. And you'll get a taste 
of your own snotty blood because I'm going to rip you a brand new asshole! 

Jane felt it grow in her mouth, become hard and throbbing again. She let it 
fill her mouth while she toyed with the heavy sack beneath, squeezing a ripe 
pear gently. The purple veins along the shaft began rubbing against her 
teeth and lips. She wrapped her hand around the hairy base and began moving 
the skin up and down as she captured the surging head between her lips and 
sucked it slowly into her mouth. If nothing else, the size of Paco's prick 
excited Jane. The way it filled her mouth and her cunt so completely made 
her tingle with delight. 

Paco grabbed her hair and roughly pulled her off of him. He turned her over 
and grasped her hips to raise her body into a kneeling position. Jane's legs 
scissored open, a foot dangling off the bed on each side of his body. He 
pulled her back to where almost only her knees were on the bed and she was 
leaning forward on her arms. Almost against her will, Jane's hands burrowed 
down beneath her body and groped at the white globes facing Paco. She pulled 
the cheeks of her ass apart with her fingers and stretched the rubber ring 
on her anus, expanding the deep brown nugget for him. 

The sight of that brown starfish between the white hillocks made Paco's cock 
throb. He took it in his hand and guided it to the small hole. He jabbed at 
it, but the rubber ring withstood his pressure and denied him entrance. He 
jabbed again, but failed to even get the head partially in. Dropping to his 
knees, Paco ran his tongue along the crevice, across Jane's fingers holding 
the hole open and then darted it inside. Saliva dripped from the corners of 
his mouth as he lubricated the tight anus with his tongue. He swirled it 
around inside until it was wet and flexible, then stood up and once again 
jabbed his oversized cock at the brown rubber ring. 

Jane felt it press against her, the pressure sending chills through her 
loins and belly. The rubber ring seemed to hold, but finally gave way under 
the onslaught. She heard it open and pop as Paco's cock sunk into her ass. 
The pain was like having a hot iron rammed into her and Jane thought she 
would faint. Relentlessly Paco shoved against her, sinking it an inch deeper 
with each thrust. 

"Uuaagghh!" she screamed. Paco, spurred on by the punishment he was 
inflicting, gave a mighty plunge and sunk it all the way to its hairy root. 
Jane tried to fall forward to loose herself from the impalement of her 
rectum, but he held her firmly by the hips. She felt like someone had a 
knife up inside her, twisting and turning to cut her insides to tiny shreds. 

Gradually the pain gave way to a deep sense of pleasure. Jane experimented 
with a small wiggle of her hips, found the pleasure even more intense and 
then began a slow rotation. Paco drove hard into her ass, poking and probing 
with all his strength. His heavy balls began bouncing against her thighs and 
hitting the exposed pink slit. Jane reached beneath her body and between 
their legs and took his heavy sack in her hand, trying vainly to stuff it 
inside her cunt. Paco reached forward and grabbed her tits to milk her like 
a cow. She rubbed her cunt with his sack, trying to pull him deeper inside 
her, his rod sliding in and out of her expanded rectum giving her a delight 
she had never truly experienced beiore. 

She looked over at Gorman and saw the big bulge in his pants. Oh, if he were 
only close enough for me to suck his cock, she thought! She imagined the 
cock in her mouth countering the strokes of the cock up her ass. All 
thoughts vanished from her head as a double explosion deep inside her rocked 
her body. Paco's hot come was shooting so deep into her body Jane imagined 
she could taste drops of it in her mouth and throat. Her own come was 
running down her legs in gushing rivers, making a large puddle on the bed. 

Paco pulled back, loosing his prick from the tight cavern that had captured 
the swollen organ and sucked it dry. He flipped Jane over on the bed and sat 
on her chest, running his semi-erect cock back and forth across her lips. 
The thought of what he wanted sickened her, but Jane opened her mouth and 
began licking the streaks of brown mixed with white come from his cock. The 
odor was overpowering and Jane almost vomited. Suddenly a memory flashed in 
Jane's mind. 

She managed to turn Paco over on the bed and mount him so that her knees 
were pressed against his ears. Paco thought she wanted him to return the 
favor and lick her clean. He pulled her down so that the lips of her cunt 
were pressed against his lips, exploring the pink inner regions of her cunt 
with his tongue. 

What Paco didn't see was that Jane's eyes were closed and the muscles around 
her abdomen were rippling and straining. Then it happened! A rush of hot 
yellow fluid covered Paco's face, running into his mouth and down his 
cheeks. It stung his eyes and made his nostrills recoil. Jane relieved 
herself in torrents, covering Paco's face and chest with pungent urine. 

That dirty gringo bitch! He pushed her aside roughly and sprang to his knees 
above her. 

Gorman immediately saw what had happened and laughed at the justice Jane had 
dealt Paco. He also saw that Paco was furious, and he knew that the Mexican 
would kill Jane if he could. He jumped from his chair and raced to the bed. 
Paco's hand was in the air, a blow aimed at Jane's defenseless cunt swinging 
down. Gorman quickly placed the prongs of the prod against Paco's balls and 
pressed the button. 

Paco's body flew through the air and landed on the floor, a scream echoing 
through the room. His body writhed on the floor for a minute while he 
clutched his heavy sack in his hand, tears running from his eyes. 

"You see, Jane, when you've done well, this can serve you instead of punish 
you," the doctor said. "I'm afraid, though, that Senor Guzman will be put 
out about what you've done to his fur cover here." 

"I don't care," Jane shouted hysterically. "I couldn't help it. I had to do 
it! He's a filthy beast and he had it coming!" 

"No one will argue that with you, my dear," said Gorman. 

Paco stood up and looked very much like he was going to attack the doctor. 
Gorman stared at him with a steel look in his eyes and ordered him out of 
the room. A vicious glaze covering his eyes, Paco took a step toward the 
doctor. Gorman waved the prod at him. Paco stopped, spit at the doctor and 
then wheeled arpund and limped from the room. 

Mark was standing behind the glass, every muscle in his body tense and 
waiting. If Paco had taken one more step, Mark was ready to race down the 
corridor and into the room. His body relaxed when he saw Paco stagger 
through the door. 

Consuela placed her hand on Mark's shoulder and whispered in his ear. 

"Careful, my noble one. The wrong move could cost you your life, and that 
blonde cunt isn't worth that!" 

"I would say the doctor has an unqualified success," Guzman said. "What do 
you think, Mark?" 

"The change is remarkable," Mark replied in a soft voice. 

 CHAPTER ELEVEN 

It was late and they were all tired. Senor Guzman left for Mexico City 
almost immediately after Jane's performance with Paco. Dr. Gorman, dead 
tired from the strain of the past ten days, had gone to bed right after 
Guzman left. Consuela and Mark had a quiet dinner together in the main 
dining room, neither having much to say and both eating their food with a 
distinct lack of interest. 

Mark's mind was cluttered with a thousand and one thoughts. He didn't know 
what he was going to do, but he knew that he had to do something. All 
evening long Consuela had shot him meaningful glances, but he chose to 
ignore her. He knew she was certain that he was plotting the rescue of Jane 
Horner and he laughed to himself. He felt sorry for Jane Homer, like one 
might feel sorry for a dog with its tail caught in a door, but he had no 
intention of rescuing her. In Mark's mind, Jane Homer had brought most of 
this on herself. 

What concerned Mark was his own rescue. What had seemed noble, exciting and 
fun at the beginning was now all rotten to him. He not only did not 
understand Senor Guzman, he had lost all respect for his employer. The 
problem Mark faced was that he had nowhere to go. The felony conviction in 
the States placed him between a rock and a hard spot. He could hardly go 
back and make any sort of a decent life for himself there. The goody-goodies 
had fixed that for him! 

At the same time, he couldn't stay here. Perhaps Consuela was right. Maybe 
he was noble. He only knew that he couldn't stand by and watch human beings 
reduced to slaves. 

Antonio Marelan arrived shortly after nine, in-tempting a charged silence 
between Consuela and Mark in the living room. He said that El Jefe, always 
liking to call Senor Guzman "The Chief," had called and wanted him in on a 
brief conference that night. They told him to pour himself a drink and they 
all chatted until Guzman arrived a few mintues later. 

"I have to fly to Guadalajara in the morning," Guzman said hurrying into the 
living room, "so we'll keep this very brief and have a long conference when 
I get back tomorrow night. Where's Dr. Gorman?" 

"He said he was beat and headed for bed right after you left," Mark replied, 
standing and going to the sideboard for another brandy. 

"Well, it's not too important for him to be here tonight," Guzman confined, 
"he can catch up tomorrow. Consuela, get some pads and pencils so we can 
make some notes." 

Consuela went to the large chest against the wall and began distributing a 
small pad and a pencil to each of the men. 

"Mark, let's get your assignments down first. Dr. Gorman has had Miss Horner 
sign her name at the bottom of thirty blank sheets of paper. I believe he 
told her it was for handwriting analysis, but we'll make better use of her 
signature. I want you to compose a letter that will be sent to each of the 
groups in Miss Horner's organization. We'll cover big cities only, so make a 
list of the best places to hit." 

"What's this letter supposed to say?" Mark asked. 

"I was getting to that. The idea is that Jane has made an amazing discovery 
that will be most meaningful to these groups. She has kept it secret because 
it's so important. What she wants them to do is arrange to have a sixteen 
millimeter motion picture projector at their regularly scheduled meeting 
next month. Say no more than that. Get them interested and wondering what 
she is up to, and make certain that they have a sound projector at that 
meeting. Give it your best public relations twist and make sure they're 
excited about attending that meeting. You might even mention that she 
expects a full attendance. 

"Have the letters typed on the sheets Miss Horner has signed. No return 
address, just the date and Mexico at the top. Okay?" 

"Okay," Mark responded, "but I sure wish to hell I knew what we're doing." 

"We'll go into that soon, Mark. And I think you'll be very pleased with what 
I have in mind. By the way, send a similar letter to Mildred Thatcher and 
Reverend James. Have them get a projector for the big meeting next month, 
and mention to Mildred that she should play this whole thing up in the 
newsletter." 

Guzman walked to the sideboard and poured himself a brandy before 
continuing. 

"Consuela, I want you to arrange a sex orgy. I want a half a dozen strong 
men and four or five girls down here for an all day orgy this Saturday or 
Sunday. You can use some of the girls we've had here before or hire 
prostitutes, but they must be attractive people." 

"What about the men?" Consuela asked with a smile on her face. 

"I'd like to use some of those minor officials in the government, the ones 
we always have to pay off, and the ones who come down here expecting us to 
supply their sex all the time. What I have in mind may come in handy in 
dealing with them later on. Think you can round up a good crew?" 

"The men will be simple," Consuela replied, "but the girls will take some 
work. You want some real wild, any thing-goes types, I take it." 

"Right! No shy ones. I want gals who'll do anything and have themselves a 
real ball." 

"It's short notice, Avillo, but I think I can arrange it." 

"Good!" 

He poured himself another drink and walked over to Antonio Marelan. 

"Yours is the toughest assignment of all, Tony. I want you to find the best 
cameraman in Mexico City and bring him down here. You'll have to do this 
tomorrow because the two of you have to do whatever is necessary to the Game 
Room to make it a movie studio. 

"I want the cameras concealed in a small room Mark will show you. The 
participants in the orgy should not know that they're being photographed or 
recorded. You'll have to set up special lights and all that, but we'll pass 
that off as some experimental lighting we've installed. Think you can do 
it?" 

"I guess so, Senor Guzman, but it's one hell of a tall order!" 

"That's precisely why I called you down here to handle it. It has to be 
sound. I'd prefer color, but black and white will do if color is too 
difficult. Pay the man whatever he asks, but get me the best man available. 

"And while you're at it, find me the best film editor in town. We're on a 
tight schedule and he'll have to go to work immediately after the film is 
developed. I don't want any hacks or drunken bums. We need the best man in 
the business, a real artist. Okay?" 

"I'll head back tonight and see what I can dig up." 

"Good! If you have any problems, call Mark. I'll be in Guadalajara most of 
the day tomorrow and Mark'll give you a hand where he can. In fact, you 
might send down a couple of typists to do Mark's letters for him. This whole 
thing is on a crash basis." 

Guzman shook Antonio's hand as he headed for the door to get his car in 
order to race back to Mexico City. Mark and Consuela exchanged puzzled 
looks. Consuela shrugged her shoulders and headed for the stairs. 

"I know you have a million questions, Mark," Guzman said, putting his glass 
down and following Consuela up the stairs. "Just be patient with me. We'll 
talk the whole thing out as soon as I get back." 

 CHAPTER TWELVE 

"I tell you, bringing marijuana in at this point could be a disaster!" said 
Dr. Gorman, an angry edge creeping into his voice as he faced his employer 
across the table in the gazebo. "We've accomplished miracles with her from 
the sexual standpoint. She'll react to any discussion of marijuana, and that 
reaction could very well destroy all we have created." 

"Calm down, Carl. I've only developed this idea in the last forty-eight 
hours, so I couldn't have covered all the bases," Guzman replied. "I 
recognize the danger, but perhaps this can be overcome with a clever script 
and some good film editing. We have Miss Horner deliver one of her famous 
anti-marijuana statements, which Marks writes so that by removing a sentence 
here and there it becomes exactly what we want. Then in the same setting and 
with the same clothes, we have her do a sex statement later. Afterward, we 
slice them up and put them together. How about it, Mark?" 

Mark was standing at the edge of the gazebo looking to the east where the 
twin volcanos were hidden behind a thin veil of mist. His mind was on his 
personal situation, but with an effort he pulled it back to the subject at 
hand. 

"I know very little about film editing, Senor ' Guzman," Mark replied, "but 
I don't see any reason why it couldn't be done. Tell me exactly what you 
want and I'll have a talk with the men Tony brought down, and we'll see what 
we can do." 

Jane could hardly believe her good fortune. Her own room in the main house! 
A bed with sheets and blankets! Her own clothes, all cleaned and pressed, 
her panties and bra washed and sparkling white! And she was free to walk 
about the house. She could even go outside if she called Dr. Gorman and 
arranged for someone to go with her. 

The first thing she did when Dr. Gorman brought her to the room was to run 
about opening and closing drawers in the chest on the wall. Then she raced 
to the window, the first one she had seen in what seemed to her an eternity, 
touching the glass with the tips of her fingers and opening and closing the 
window to prove to herself that it was real. Tears flooded her eyes when she 
opened the closet and found her two suitcases, the ones she had left at the 
hotel in Mexico City what seemed like a hundred years ago. She unpacked 
them, admiring the clothes as if she had never seen them before. Putting 
things in the chest and hanging dresses in the closet gave her a feeling of 
being in touch with reality. She almost wondered if the past few weeks had 
been a horrible nightmare. 

The trouble was that Jane's mind was all a jumble. She couldn't concentrate 
on any one thing too long. It made her nervous to try to remember things. 
Jane could only be comfortable living for the moment. 

Her undergarments made her feel uncomfortable, so she slipped them off and 
put on a multi-colored cotton print. Looking at herself in the mirror, Jane 
was thankful that she had a bust line which needed no support. She'd always 
been able to get by without a bra when she felt like it. The dress was loose 
at the waist and Jane felt certain she had lost weight recently. She 
remembered the cotton dress as always being marginal, just a bit tight. 

Disregarding stockings and slipping into some white pumps, she went 
downstairs and found the dining room. She no sooner sat down than a maid in 
a white uniform appeared with a steaming dish of arroz con polio, a crisp 
garden salad, warm rolls and piping hot coffee. Jane didn't mind eating 
alone; it was so good to be free again Jane didn't mind a bit. 

The workmen began just before noon on the Game Room. Holes were cut in the 
walls for the cameras, wires were strung back and forth across the ceiling, 
lights were installed, checked, changed, and then more lights added. Men 
stood with light meters in various parts of the room calling their readings 
to a man in a bright, black and white checked coat. The man would make notes 
and then call for more light here and less there. Mark, Dr. Gorman, Tony and 
two men from Mexico City held hurried conferences and then changed the 
location of furniture. 

Microphones were hidden in the silk folds across the ceiling and concealed 
under the beds. The complicated wiring to a master control board had to be 
torn apart three times and redone until each microphone had its own control. 
Needles on dials bounced and vibrated as sound levels were tested and 
retested. 

Mark and Dr. Gorman left the Game Room at five. The workmen gathered their 
tools and called the job complete at eight, but no one was completely 
satisfied. They had done what normally took three days in under nine hours, 
and everyone felt they should have more time and more tests. Jorje Gonzales, 
the director, had serious doubts that the generator on the estate would 
carry the load required for the lights, but he would do the best he could 
with what they had given him to work with, after all, one hundred thousand 
pesos for two days' work was something you didn't run into every day! 

The lights blinded Jane, made her eyes water and perspiration form under her 
arms. She was seated on a French provincial chair before the large micro in 
the game room. A screen had been placed behind her and there was a small 
marble cocktail table at her side. 

She was confused. Dr. Gorman had tried to explain it all to her half a dozen 
times, but she was still confused. It was something about a rehearsal to see 
if she had potential as an actress. Mark had given her a script and she was 
supposed to recite it from memory. They had told her to pretend that she was 
talking to a group of her friends. That was something else. They said that 
if she did well they might let her make a short film to send home to her 
friends so they would know she was enjoying her vacation. Jane could hardly 
remember her friends, and she really didn't care about sending them a 
message. 

Then there was all the business about sitting down at the beginning, 
standing up on a certain sentence, turning and walking toward the mirror-all 
that! Jane knew she would never remember it all. She wanted to do well, to 
please Dr. Gorman who had been so good to her, but she just knew she 
wouldn't be able to do everything they wanted. 

Dr. Gorman signaled her from the side of the room. 

"Hello, I'm Jane Homer and I'm so glad you ... come this evening." 

"Cut!" a voice boomed from the other side of the room. The man in the bright 
colored sports coat came over to Jane. 

"Relax, Miss Horner," he said. "You have to relax and be natural. Just 
pretend you're talking to your friends. You don't sound like that when you 
talk to your friends, now do you? Don't worry about making mistakes. We'll 
handle those as we come to them. All I want you to do is relax and be 
natural." 

"Please, Jane, just do what he says. Relax and be yourself," Gorman added, 
as the director moved back to the side of the room. 

"Hello, I'm Jane Horner and I'm so glad you could come this evening. I have 
something important to tell you and I'm using this means because I can't be 
there personally. 

"As you know, in the past we have disucssed how marijuana leads to immoral 
sexual behavior, especially among our younger generation. We criticized 
youngsters for their permissive attitude toward sex and their openly sensual 
behavior." 

Jane looked up with a helpless and confused expression on her face. 

"I'm sorry," she stammered. "I think I was supposed to stand up here or 
something. And I've forgotten what comes next." 

"Don't worry, Jane, that was excellent," Dr. Gorman said. "You're doing very 
well. Very well indeed. We know you can't remember it all, so just stop when 
you've forgotten your lines and we'll start from there. If you keep this up, 
I'm certain you'll be able to sleep in your own room in the house tonight. 
Here's the script. Study it and we'll go on in a moment or two." 

The thought of sleeping in a bed with blankets and having a window of her 
own was enough to make it all worth while to Jane. She read the words on the 
pages carefully, saying them aloud several times. 

"You can just start from where you left off, Jane," the director said. 

"This horrible behavior not only ruins the individual, it destroys the very 
society in which we live. These wild sex orgies breed degenerates, and 
that's only one short step from rape and murder." 

Dr. Gorman gestured with his hands and Jane stood up and continued. 

"Medical men tell us there's no relationship between marijuana and sexual 
conduct. As intelligent people we must bow to their scientific facts. At 
times, one cannot help but think they are wrong. Never having smoked a 
marijuana cigarette, I can tell you only what others have told me. You 
become very stimulated, sexually aroused, and you have to have sex. It 
intensifies the contact and makes the act more exciting. It prolongs the 
orgasm. Medical men should talk to the potheads to learn the truth about how 
marijuana and sex are tied together. 

"I have just completed extensive personal research...." 

Jane stammered and then shrugged her shoulders in frustration. 

"I'm sorry, I've forgotten what comes next. And wasn't I supposed to walk to 
the mirror on that line?" she asked. 

"Relax, Jane, you're doing just fine," Dr. Gorman said. 

She picked up her script and concentrated hard on the words which seemed to 
swim before her eyes. Over and over again, Jane practiced the things she was 
supposed to say. 

"Okay, let's take it from that 'personal research' part," said the director. 

Jane felt comfortable with what she was saying. These were words she had 
said before, words that somehow comforted her. She went on, remembering the 
movements she was supposed to make. They stopped a dozen times and she 
practiced her lines out loud, placing emphasis where the director wanted it. 
She could not hear the hum of the camera in the background, and she had no 
idea she was being filmed. It was all like a big game, tiring but fun. 

It was almost midnight when they quit. Two hours and thousands of feet of 
film for what would be a three minute segment. They all congratulated her 
and Dr. Gorman said they would try a different script in the morning. 

Jane went to bed in her room in the main house, happy and content. 

 CHAPTER THIRTEEN 

Jane was in all her glory. She was surrounded by young people in the 
flower-decked gazebo, a trio off to the side playing those lilting Latin 
songs and gay laughter filling the air. A snack table was set on the lawn 
and maids in sparkling white uniforms were serving iced drinks of every 
imaginable description. Consuela was acting as hostess, but Jane with her 
fair complexion and blonde hair was the center of attention. The young men 
gathered around her like moths to a flame, and several of the girls cast 
envious glances at her. 

Jane had slept like a log, her first night with the feel of sheets against 
her skin throwing her into a deep relaxing sleep she hadn't known for weeks. 
She awoke refreshed, eager to begin the day. After breakfast with Consuela, 
Mark, Gorman, the director and Tony Marelan, Jane rushed back to her room to 
change. She'd put on a fresh outfit this morning, but Gorman insisted she 
wear exactly what she had worn the night before. They were going to play a 
game, he explained, having Jane give them a lecture on the wonders of sex. 
She'd have a new script to learn and show off how much she had learned about 
acting the night before. They all agreed it would be great fun, and Senor 
Guzman promised her a special reward if she did well. Jane liked doing it, 
especially in front of the big mirror where she could watch herself. June 
Horner enjoyed being the center of attention in almost any situation. 

The morning had gone well. She had made only a few mistakes, and everyone 
thought what she was doing and saying was very funny. Jane herself laughed 
at the last thing they had her do. When she was finished talking, Jane was 
to reach down and grab her dress at the hem and pull it off over her head, 
shouting, "Let's have an orgy!" They had to do that scene a few extra times 
because she kept getting the dress caught on her chin, and each time it 
became funnier to her. She laughed as she pulled the dress up, exposing her 
creamy white, voluptuous body in the nude, and then threw it in the air. 
That was her own idea, but they all liked it. 

All of it had taken less than an hour. Then Jane, Mark and Consuela changed 
and went for a swim. Splashing around in the warm water and drying in the 
sun made Jane feel ten years younger. Mark warned her about sunburn, so Jane 
sat in the shade of the cabanas until it was time to go and change. 

The guests began arriving shortly after mid-day. Maria and Belita were the 
first to arrive. Jane was certain they couldn't be much over sixteen, if 
they were that, but she couldn't help admiring what beautiful girls they 
were. Maria was short and petite, with large, rounded breasts that seemed 
about to escape from the low-cut dress that barely covered her nipples. Her 
face was almost a perfect oval; red, pouting lips which ended in two small 
dimples and long black eyelashes giving her a sensual look. Belita was tall 
and slender. Her long, perfectly tapered legs ended in tight, round globes 
for buttocks. Jane heard Mark say that was the tightest ass he had seen in 
years. Belita's breasts were small, but perfectly formed and her waist was 
tiny. Her gangling walk marked her youth. Jane guessed her to be fifteen at 
the most. 

Rita, a plump, well rounded, but not actually fat redhead, arrived a few 
minutes after Maria and Belita. Her red hair fell to her shoulders and 
framed a light olive face with gorgeous green eyes. You don't get that color 
from a bottle, Jane thought; it has to be natural. Rita had that dark red 
hair girls spent fortunes trying to imitate. The points of her large, ripe 
breasts were the only sharp lines on Rita's body. The rest was a mass of 
soft curves. 

Jane liked her immediately. Her eyes sparkled and she laughed almost 
constantly, matching Jane's exuberant, gay mood. Of the three, Rita's 
English was the best, but all the girls were delighted at the opportunity to 
practice their English with Jane. 

The men came in pairs. Jane couldn't pronounce, much less remember, their 
last names. Carlos was tall, darker than the others, with black, wavy hair. 
His pearl white teeth shone in a smile that covered most of his face and 
made him very attractive. Pedro was short, but built like an athlete, with 
muscular legs and arms. Raul and Francisco, who everybody called Pancho, 
arrived together in a new Lancia which drew a great deal of attention. Raul 
was almost six feet tall and had a slender, wiry frame. His arching 
eyebrows, long Roman nose and aquamarine eyes reminded Jane of a photo she 
once saw of an Italian movie actor. Pancho was heavy set, but his magnetic 
personality made him one of the most attractive men there. 

Jaime and Miguel were the last to arrive, apologizing for their delay with 
an elaborate joke about traffic in Mexico City. Both were young men in their 
late teens, sons of powerful and influential men in high government office. 
Jaime sported a close-cropped beard that ran along the edge of his jaw which 
appealed to Jane. She'd always found men with beards exciting and mysterious 
and Jaime reminded her of a boy she knew in the orphanage. 

Jane's first look at Miguel frightened her. He was tall and handsome in the 
clean-cut college fashion, but Jane saw a streak of cruelty in his eyes 
hidden behind his outwardly angelic appearance. 

She breathed a sigh of relief when he walked right past her and began 
talking to Consuela. 

What amazed Jane was how well all the men spoke English. Although they'd 
hesitate every now and then for a word, it was almost like talking to a 
group of Americans. 

Jaime's mood was so lighthearted she accepted one of the long, thin 
cigarettes the maid passed around in the beautiful teak-wood box. She had 
never smoked before, but everyone was lighting up and Jane wanted to be a 
part of this marvelous, carefree group. She looked at Gorman, who nodded his 
head that it would be all right and accepted a light from Jaime. The strong, 
biting, sweet taste of the smoke in her mouth almost gagged her. Jaime 
laughed and asked her if this was her first stick. She admitted she had 
never smoked before and he taught her how to inhale deeply. 

Jane noticed that the others had a far-away, glazed look in their eyes. 
Conversation slowed and a warm, contented feeling began flowing through her 
body. She felt that her hat was much too tight and reached up to push it 
back only to find that she wasn't wearing a hat. That made Jane giggle and 
the others began laughing with her. 

"Why don't you all go to the Game Room, take your clothes off and really 
enjoy yourselves?" said Senor Guzman, nodding to Gorman to precede them and 
make sure all was in readiness. 

Floating on a warm, soft cloud, Jane allowed Jaime to undress her. He took 
her in his arms, pressed his hot lips against hers, probed her eager mouth 
with his searching tongue and slowly unzipped her dress. Reaching down, he 
took the bottom of her dress and raised it above her head. A gasp of 
admiration came from several mouths. Jane's proud, white breasts stood 
firmly in the air, the strawberry nipples reaching for the ceiling. All eyes 
fastened on the soft blonde hair which crested her pink slit. 

"Una rubia de veras!" murmured Maria. "She's a true blonde!" 

Jaime laid her gently on the large round bed and began taking his own 
clothes off. Jane watched the others undress, their naked bodies dancing 
before her like something from a wild ballet. She saw Marie drop to her 
knees and take Pancho's slender shaft into her mouth. Carlos had pushed 
Belita down on the bed and buried his head between her thighs, his tongue 
making a loud lapping noise as he explored her deep-red cunt, hidden behind 
a mat of coarse black hair. Miguel came up to them and kneeled over Belita's 
face, poking against her lips with his blunt cock until she took it in her 
mouth. 

Rita was on her knees next to Jane, Pedro behind her jabbing at her tiny 
asshole with his blood-inflated prick. Jane was looking straight through 
Rita's legs. Behind the dark red hair that covered Rita's pink slit, Jane 
saw Pedro's balls bouncing back and forth as he rammed his prick up Rita's 
ass. She felt a quickening in her own thighs as she watched Rita's body 
quiver from the onslaught. 

Then she felt something hot and hard against her nipple and looked up to see 
Carlos rubbing the head of his cock against her breast. 

It was the most beautiful cock she had ever seen, long and slender and 
pointed like a dart. She reached out and took it in her hand, pulling him 
forward and reaching up with her mouth to capture it between her hungry 
lips. Carlos was kneeling over her. He began a slow, thrusting movement with 
his hips, pushing his cock all the way into her mouth. She felt his balls 
rest on her chin, then begin beating against it as he fucked her mouth with 
short jabs. 

Raul stood looking down at the mass of heaving bodies on the bed. Twisting 
and turning, they moved into a variety of positions. The most beautiful, and 
only unoccupied, sex organ before him was Jane's golden-crested cunt. 
Pushing Carlos slightly to one side without dislodging his surging cock from 
Jane's mouth, Raul pulled Jane's soft thighs apart and knelt between her 
legs. The pink gash before him was quivering with excitement. He reached out 
and pulled the lips open with his fingers, gazing at the exposed flesh with 
a hunger stirring in his loins. He lowered his head and probed the red 
orifice with his tongue, shoving it far inside her and then withdrawing it 
to lap at the inner folds of her moist lips. 

Jane's head was nailed to the bed with Carlos' tumid cock. She felt the hot, 
moist tongue lapping at her cunt, but she couldn't raise her head to see who 
was providing this delightful feeling. Then, without warning, the tongue 
stopped and something large and blunt was pressing into her hole. She felt 
the walls of her vagina expand as it sunk deeper and deeper inside her, a 
strange pair of balls sliding along her thighs and bouncing off her ass. 

Carlos was using her mouth like a cunt, ramming his cock in and out with 
hard thrusts of his hips. Jane pressed her tongue against the throbbing 
penis and let it slide up and down on the sweet, moist surface as he pressed 
his wiry pubic hair against her lips and sought to sink his weapon down deep 
in her throat. She let her fingers roam over the tight, smooth skin of his 
belly, feeling his muscles ripple as he rammed harder and harder into her 
mouth. 

Jane's body felt like a giant bell, the clapper racing from one side to the 
other. Raul had pulled her knees into the air and was pushing his pelvis 
against her in long, piston-like strokes that sunk his cock deep into her 
belly. She felt it hit her cervix and bounce off, sending tiny ripples of 
pleasure coursing through her entire system. A low moan caught in Jane's 
throat as she realized that both men were increasing their tempo, getting 
ready to pump that delicious hot liquid into her from both ends. Her body 
was like a tight spring, ready to unwind at any moment. She wanted to 
scream, to beat her fists on the bed, to shout with joy at the physical 
bliss she felt. But Jane's mouth was completely filled with a surging cock 
that demanded every ounce of her strength. Her body went into short spasms, 
jerking and shuddering as she swam through the depths of her greatest 
climax. She felt her hot come spreading through her cunt and splashing 
against Raul's pubic hair as he shoved his entire body against her. 

Then a double explosion rocked her. First it was in her mouth, jets of 
searing come spurting against her inner cheeks, running down the center of 
her tongue and cascading into her throat. She was sucking hard to pull every 
last drop from the glorious cock in her mouth when she felt a rush of hot 
juice run through her vagina and up to her belly. She contracted her muscles 
to pull it deeper inside her. 

"Do you think they can hear the cameras?" Guzman asked. 

The small room behind the mirror was crowded with recording equipment, 
controls and large cameras mounted on tripods. All the furniture had been 
removed and the men stood against the back wall to allow the two men on the 
cameras plenty of freedom to move around. 

"Not a chance," the director answered. "We checked it out a couple of times. 
These electric motors run quietly. Besides, I don't think anyone in there 
would hear a bomb go off right now!" 

Jane was on the edge of the bed resting when Maria came over to her. Maria 
placed her hands on Jane's shoulders and pushed her back on the bed. Then 
she knelt over Jane's face, her knees pressing against Jane's sides. 

"I want to taste Raul's come," she said laughingly. "Oh, what a beautiful 
cunt! So soft and blonde! You can taste Pancho's come. He left a big load in 
me, and he's got the sweetest come in the whole world!" 

Maria scooted down until her wet, dripping cunt was pressed against Jane's 
mouth. Then she lowered her body and sent her tongue darting into Jane's 
gaping pink slit. 

Jane's tongue probed the raw flesh pressing against her lips. A salty taste 
flooded her mouth. She felt Maria's muscles contract and pull her tongue 
deep into the inner reaches of her cunt. She pulled it back and began 
attacking the erect clitoris that was grinding against her lips. Her body 
jerked as Maria sank her teeth into Jane's clitoris. It was a sweet, 
delicious pain that swept all through her. Then the young girl's scorching 
tongue began flicking against the clitoris, sending a frantic tingling 
sensation through Jane. She grasped Maria's head between her thighs and 
rammed her pelvis hard against the young girl's face. 

Pedro and Jaime pulled the girls apart, their balls aching with desire from 
watching the two girls eat each other almost alive. 

"Fuck me!" Jane screamed. "Somebody fuck me!" 

Pedro fell on top of her, pushing her knees into her breasts and holding her 
ankles above her head. Two holes stared up at him and he sunk his swollen 
cock in first one and then the other. 

"Aauugghh!" Jane cried as the raging cock rammed into her dry anus. The pain 
shot through her body like fire. She felt two hands grab her ankles and 
press them down against the fur cover, elevating her ass even higher in the 
air. Pedro leaned on the underside of her thighs and braced himself for a 
powerful attack. He lunged deep, feeling his pubic hair tangle with the 
soft, blonde hair on Jane's mound. 

"Oohh! Fuck me! Keep it up! Fuck me!" Jane moaned, as she felt the searing 
cock shoot far up inside her. 

Digging his fingers into her soft, white thighs, Pedro hoisted himself to 
his knees and battered against Jane's exposed cunt with all his might. His 
surging cock looked like a piston on a racing engine, his balls rang against 
his globes like the clappers on a fire bell, and Jane suddenly found herself 
mad with lust. 

"Give me a cock to suck! Somebody, please! I want a cock in my mouth!" she 
cried. 

Pancho was holding her ankles. He crawled up and knelt over Jane so that his 
hard cock was resting across her face. Because of their positions, Jane 
couldn't get it in her mouth. She ran her tongue over the purple head, 
poking the tip of it into the tiny slit at the end and nibbling at the taut 
skin with her wet lips. His balls were in her eyes and he moved his turgid 
organ across her face in a grinding, sawing motion that drove Jane wild. Her 
tongue was lapping against the sides of his shaft like it was a candy stick. 
She felt it swell, and then Pancho exploded, shooting hot jets of sticky 
white come across her neck. Giant drops of the molten juice fell on Jane' 
breasts, covering them with a gleaming coat of moisture. He pulled back and 
let her hungry tongue lick the last drops that dripped from his rapidly 
deflating member. She guzzled them, rolling them around on her tongue and 
swallowing what she could pull into her mouth. 

Pancho let loose of her ankles and Jane immediately shot her legs out and 
wrapped them around Pedro's pumping hips. She used her heels, kicking 
furiously against Pedro's heaving, surging ass to force him even deeper 
within her womb. 

"Fuck me, Pedro! Fuck harder! Deeper! Oohh, that's it! Sink it clear to my 
belly. Fuck! Fuck! Aauugghh!" 

"She's not acting now," the director chuckled as he signaled to one of the 
cameramen to move in with a zoom lens for a close shot of Jane's face. "She 
really loves it, doesn't she?" 

No one bothered to answer. Each man in the room was lost in his own 
thoughts, especially Mark Wilson. Mark was leaning against the back wall, 
his arms folded across his chest. The sight of the twisting bodies before 
him excited and sickened him at the same time. A moment ago he had been 
consumed with a burning hatred for himself. Now he was completely devoid of 
feeling. It's easy, once you've made the decision, he told himself. Even the 
decision itself was simple, once you got rid of all the ifs and ands and 
buts, which were really nothing more than an excuse for not making the 
decision in the first place. He had no idea what he was going to do, but he 
knew that would only come after he had made the decision to do something. 

Jane was sprawled on one of the smaller beds where she'd flopped after she'd 
returned from the bathroom. 

She watched Rita with two men on the large bed, and Jane couldn't believe 
what she was seeing. Carlos was flat on his back, his stiff cock aimed at 
the ceding. Rita crouched over him in a sitting position and lowered her 
body until her asshole was impaled on his cock. Then she leaned back and 
flattened herself on top of Carlos. Miguel came up and climbed into position 
between their outstretched legs, carefully moving forward so that his cock 
was poised at the entrance to Rita's cunt. Slowly, Miguel moved up and 
shoved his cock into Rita, so that she had two throbbing cocks up her, 
separated by only a very thin wall of flesh. 

"Mother of God that's good!" she cried. "Rub your cocks together! Fuck me, 
you two studs, fuck me!" 

Jane could almost feel the two pricks in her. She had to try it! She had to 
have it that way! She stood up and raced to the bed. 

"I want it that way!" she screamed, pointing to Rita and the two men. "I 
want a cock in my cunt and up my ass at the same time! I have to have it! 
Please!" 

Pancho and Raul walked over to her and placed her on the bed on her side. 

It happened after the party, when everybody was dressing to go to dinner in 
the main house. Jane was calm, her body satiated with physical pleasure. She 
was pleased with the exciting things she had experienced, and she whistled a 
gay tune as she pulled her dress over her head. 

Carlos walked up and offered her a cigarette, one of the long, thin kind she 
had smoked earlier in the gazebo. She shook her head and thanked him. He 
became insistent. 

"Look, doll," he said, "marijuana paid for all of this. It pays for the 
whole business down here. Have to help your friend Guzman make another 
million, don't we?" 

Jane fell forward like she had been hit with a blow in the stomach that 
knocked all her wind out. Blinding lights swirled through her brain. She 
gasped, vomited and then screamed. It was a loud, earsplitting, 
blood-curdling scream that brought everyone in the room up short. She 
slashed at Carlos, raking her nails across his face and leaving three long 
lines of dripping blood. Then she turned and ran to the chairs, turning them 
over one by one. She fell against the wall and beat it with her fists, 
slipped to the floor and went into hysterical sobbing and crying, then 
leaped up and ran to the screen at the far end of the room. 

When she reappeared, Jane had a long whip in each hand, slashing through the 
air and screaming wildly. It took four men to subdue her. They finally 
carried her to the main house. Gorman gave her an injection while they held 
her on her bed. In three minutes she was unconscious. 

 CHAPTER FOURTEEN 

After coffee and brandy, the guests left, winding their way along the toll 
road through the mountains on the hour drive back to Mexico City. The 
cameras and equipment had been dismounted during dinner and the film was 
being rushed to a lab in Mexico City where it would be developed and then 
edited. A maid was posted in a chair in Jane's room, instructed to call Dr. 
Gorman if Jane might awaken and harm herself or someone else. He explained 
that she was in a state of shock, apparently triggered by the remark from 
Carlos about marijuana. 

"I doubt there is any lasting damage," he told the group assembled in the 
living room, "but it's too early to say. I'll know more by tomorrow, and I 
suppose we have some decisions to make in that area anyway." 

Mark was sitting back in the large colonial chair with his hands clasped in 
his lap watching Dr. Gorman intently. Consuela had just brought in fresh 
coffee in a silver service and was pouring for each of the three men. Mark 
put his hand over his cup when she approached. 

"Thanks, but if I have another cup of coffee I won't sleep for a week!" 

"Yes, I suppose we will have to consider that problem," Senor Guzman said to 
Dr. Gorman. "I frankly hadn't given it any thought." 

Mark, who now understood most of what was going on, couldn't contain himself 
any longer. None of it made any sense. 

"I've got a few questions, if this is the appropriate time to air them," 
Mark said. "I've done everything you assigned me, but to be perfectly honest 
it doesn't make one damned bit of sense to me. 

"You've done well, Mark," Guzman replied. 

"I wasn't fishing for compliments, Senor Guzman. You pay me well for what I 
do here, but I can't make heads nor tails out of what I've done. As I see 
it, all of this film we've taken is going to be cleverly edited into a 
pornographic movie starring Jane Horner, with an introduction by Jane 
Horner." 

"Precisely," Guzman replied with a smile. "And it should be quite a stag 
film!" 

"That be as it may," Mark continued, "you're then going to send copies of 
this film to about thirty P.T.A. and church groups who will all view it on 
the same night about ten days from now." 

"Correct," Guzman replied, lighting a long cigar and sipping his coffee 
while Mark continued. 

"From what I wrote on the script it would seem that the theme of the movie 
is that Jane is telling them that marijuana does contribute to sexual 
behavior, that she has experimented herself and finds sex with marijuana 
just great." 

"Don't forget to add," Dr. Gorman interrupted, "that she wants the groups to 
stop persecuting the kids for enjoying some of nature's fun." 

"It seems to me that you understand it all very clearly, Mark," Senor Guzman 
said. 

"No, not at all! I've just stated what I know is going to happen. What I 
don't understand is why. It seems to me that these groups of upright 
citizens will go into orbit when they see this film. They'll be hopping mad 
and sharpening spears for battle!" 

"Precisely, Mark!" Guzman replied enthusiastically. 

"Then it seems to me we're defeating our purpose!" 

"Which is?" Guzman asked. 

"To see marijuana sales go up not down. The more tolerant the society is, 
the more we sell. It's as simple as that. When they get tough and crack 
down, our sales suffer. And believe me, this film will bring on the biggest 
crackdown in history!" 

Senor Guzman motioned to Consuela. She picked up the silver coffee service 
and poured him another cup while he answered Mark. 

"So you think we're working at cross purposes for our own goal?" he said. 
"Well, let's discuss some basic economics for a moment. If marijuana sold at 
a penny a reefer, where would we be? We'd be in deep financial trouble! So, 
you see, in the law of supply and demand, price must be a factor. That's why 
we can't afford to have marijuana legalized. If it were legal and taxed, all 
the profits would be gone from the business. Look at what happened to the 
liquor industry! During prohibition they were turning two and three hundred 
per cent profit on their investment. Today, they're pleased to earn five per 
cent on their invested capital." 

"I understand all that," Mark said somewhat impatiently. 

"I hope so, Mark, because that's what this is all about. This entire project 
is designed to do two things: create a demand, and keep the price up. When 
the leading anti-marijuana advocate turns pothead and sex maniac, the word 
is bound to leak out. Kids and adults alike will hear about it, and secretly 
they'll want to try marijuana and see what kicks they can put in their own 
lives. At the same time, pressure will be put on to really stomp down on the 
marijuana trade. There will be arrests and convictions, and marijuana will 
be just a little harder to come by. The result? The price remains firm, or 
even has a slight increase at the same time the demand goes up!" 

Mark was stunned. It was so simple, yet it had completely escaped him! 

"What about the adverse publicity?" he asked, his mind reeling under the 
impact of what he was now beginning to see. 

"Mark," his employer answered, "we're one business that thrives on adverse 
publicity. Every time some local citizen's group cracks down on pot, our 
sales jump. Injustices like your felony conviction gain us hundreds of new 
allies. The law forces them underground. They see how the law is used by a 
small minority to rule the large majority and they become a lawless society, 
defying the very thing of which they are so proud-their social order. Take a 
good look at the United States today. It's going downhill fast. 
Demonstrations, riots, assassinations, heavy debt and personal bankruptcy. 
What causes all this? It's simple: the people have lost their respect for 
the law. Bonnie and Clyde are heroes because they defied the law. The law 
has become a tool used by a few miserable, frustrated Puritans to hold down 
the great majority. 

"Give us plenty of bad publicity! It makes us look better, and it makes our 
product more desirable. As businessmen, we could hardly ask for more!" 

Mark stood up and walked to the window. Stars twinkled through the branches 
of the jacarandas and the moon, a pale yellow coin, was rising above the 
mountain ridge He could see a few glimmering lights in the homes of the late 
people in Cuernavaca below. He knew his next question was dangerous, but he 
had to ask it. 

"And what about the girl upstairs, Senor Guzman? We've ruined her life. What 
do we do with her now? What does she do?" 

Consuela looked sharply at Mark, and Avillo Guzman's brow knitted with the 
beginning of a frown. 

"You yourself said she deserved no better, Mark," Guzman replied. "I'm sure 
the doctor can bring her through her current crisis. She can pick up the 
pieces and start her life over. It's the very same thing many of her victims 
have had to do. She'll be all right. A little sadder perhaps, but much 
wiser." 

"Do you really believe that?" Mark replied. 

"Of course I believe it!" Guzman shot right back, a slight edge creaping 
into his usually well-controlled voice. "In any event, I'll not lose any 
sleep over Miss Horner's fate. She served us well, and that's all that 
concerns me." 

"We could sell her for a handsome price on the African market," Dr. Gorman 
interjected. "With that lush, creamy body of hers, we could get the African 
whorehouses to pay a fortune. When those Negro bucks get hold of a white 
woman they maul her. Girls don't last long over there, and they have to pay 
good prices for them." 

"My God, Doctor!" Mark said. "She's a human being! You can't go around 
selling human beings like they were horses!" 

Hoping to head off the argument which was obviously brewing, Consuela stood 
up, stretched and yawned. 

"I don't care what you do with Miss Jane Horner," she said, "I'm going to 
bed and get a good night's rest!" 

"Consuela's right," Guzman said. "We're all tired. We can worry about Miss 
Horner's future tomorrow. Let's call it a night and get our beauty sleep." 

"Senor Guzman," Mark said. "Yes?" 

"I wonder if I might have a few minutes with you privately?" 

"Mark, why don't we wait until first thing in the morning when we're both 
fresh? Let's you and I have breakfast together in my suite at nine, okay?" 

 CHAPTER FIFTEEN 

All hell broke loose at eight-thirty the next morning. One of the maids ran 
into the main house screaming at the top of her lungs. The sound of hurried 
footsteps and more screaming brought Avillo Guzman out of his room pulling 
on a robe. He ran into Mark in the hall where they exchanged puzzled shrugs 
and raced downstairs together. Mark had jumped out of bed with the first 
scream. He pulled on blue denims and a white turtleneck, slipped his 
sockless feet into some white canvas shoes and ran toward Jane's room. He 
opened her door, found the maid asleep in the chair and Jane sitting bolt 
upright in the bed, realized the danger was somewhere else and started back 
down the hall, where he ran into Guzman. 

There was no one downstairs, but through one of the French windows they saw 
a group of the maids and several gardeners gathered down near the gazebo. 
Side by side, they ran to the group. 

"My God!" Mark said, looking at the mutilated body crumpled on the lawn. It 
was stripped to the waist, the back covered with long, ugly stripes of 
congealed blood that could only have come from a whip. More than a dozen 
deep wounds from what must have been a large knife covered the back. Dried 
blood was everywhere. 

Mark reached down and turned the inert form over on its back. The women 
gasped and turned away. Mark thought he was going to be sick. He turned his 
head away and stood up. 

"Christ!" he muttered as he forced his throat from coining up into his 
mouth. 

The front of the body was worse than the back. Ugly, red gashes covered the 
chest and neck, and knife wounds were everywhere. The slacks were ripped 
open and the man had been castrated, the bloody stump of his penis shoved 
along with his testicles into his gaping mouth. The face was untouched and 
Mark immediately recognized the started and anguished features of Dr. Carl 
Gorman. 

Avillo Guzman had seen much violence in his life, but nothing to equal this. 

"Where's Paco?" he said in a quiet voice. 

"No esta aqui, Senor," one of the maids answered. 

"Se fue en el Volkswagen muy temprano," said the man in charge of the 
garage. "Pense que usted se le mando a la ciudad." 

"Well, Mark," Guzman said, "it seems that Paco took the Volkswagen and left 
early this morning. Why in hell would he do a thing like this?" 

Guzman turned to the garage man and issued rapid orders in Spanish. Three of 
the men left on the run. Even with Mark's limited Spanish he knew that Paco 
was now the target of an all-out underground manhunt. 

"I'll have to get some clothes on and run right down and handle this with 
the police," Guzman said. "They're extremely touchy about murder, and I want 
to nip this in the bud before it goes too far. I'm afraid our little 
conference will have to be put off until this afternoon, Mark. I'd 
appreciate if it you would see that the body isn't moved until we know what 
we have to do as far as the police are concerned. You might also look after 
Miss Horner until I get back." 

Without waiting for a reply, Guzman walked rapidly to the house to dress. 
Mark had one of the gardeners bring a large canvas and they covered the 
remains of Dr. Gorman. He left instructions that no one was to touch the 
body and then returned to the house. As he entered, Mark saw Guzman and 
Consuela rushing out the front door. 

"We'll be gone until late, Mark," he called back over his shoulder. "I 
called and the damned district man is down in Taxco today. We have to drive 
all the way down there because he's the only man who can keep this quiet." 

Mark sat down in the living room and a maid brought him a cup of steaming 
coffee. His mind was processing thoughts like a computer. He lit a 
cigarette, ground it out and then lit another. He stood up and, hands in his 
pockets, paced the living room. Then he stopped and stared out of the window 
for a moment. Mark spun around and headed for the library. Hurriedly he 
rolled a sheet of paper in one of the typewriters and let his fingers fly 
across the keys. 

"Dear Senor Guzman...." 

Jane awoke with a start at the sound of the first scream. Her mind was a 
jumble and she was frightened, very frightened. At first the room was 
strange to her, but then, with horrifying clarity, things began coming back 
to her. She had trouble sorting her thoughts, but Jane sensed she was in 
danger. 

Mark opened the door to her room, and with one glance at his face Jane could 
tell he was worried. He slammed the door and the maid jumped from the chair 
and ran to the window. A moment later she ran to the door and left the room. 

Alone, Jane again tried to sort her thoughts, tried to put them in some 
logical order. What was going on? What was she doing here? Why was she so 
afraid? She remembered everything at once and the walls of the room seemed 
to crash in on her. Her vision blurred and things seemed to be spinning 
through space. 

The door burst open and Mark came into the room. 

"Jane! Wake up!" 

"I thought I was awake," Jane replied. 

"Get some clothes on and throw what you can in your bag. We're getting out 
of here. You have to be ready in five minutes. Can you make it, or do you 
want me to help you?" 

"I don't understand, Mark." 

"There's no time for explanations now. I'll do my best to explain on the way 
to Mexico City. I'm not even sure I know what I'm doing, but I know we have 
to get out of here." 

"I'll make it," Jane said, throwing the covers back and climbing out of bed. 

"Good. I'll throw some of my things together and be back for you in a few 
minutes. Don't leave the room until I get here." 

Getting the car had been easy. No one was around the garage, so Mark grabbed 
some keys off the rack and backed the Chevrolet out. He was certain that one 
of the maids must have seen them leave, but they wouldn't find that unusual 
because people had been flying from the house in all directions that 
morning. He wound the car along the side roads to the old road and then up 
to the toll road. Once they were on the toll road, Mark pressed the 
accelerator to the floor. The Chevrolet moved ahead slowly. It was a long, 
steep climb around many curves before they would level out and head down to 
Mexico City on the other side of the mountains. 

Mark opened the conversation once he had the car rolling along the road. 

"Jane, how much do you know about what's been going on?" 

"I'm not sure. I think I understand most of it, but my mind is terribly 
confused." 

Mark patiently explained everything to her. Jane interrupted him several 
times for an explanation of some small point and then nodded her head as the 
story unfolded before her. 

"I had gathered as much," she said when he was finished. "Of course, like 
you, I couldn't understand why. I suppose it does make sense, though. I'm 
just not intelligent or sophisticated enough to understand that type of 
mind. 

"Mark, why can't I ruin everything for them by going back and explaining 
exactly what happened?" 

Mark cursed, not at Jane but at a truck driver who changed lanes to pass 
another truck and caused him to slow down. 

"I thought of that, Jane, but it would end up with the same result. In a 
way, it would be playing into their hands. Everyone would be outraged when 
they heard your story. It would leak out and help sell more marijuana, and 
your people would step up their drive. That's exactly what the organization 
wants. You'd never stop the film from being brought in. If your group 
refused to view it, the organization would sell it for five dollars a copy 
all over the country as a stag film. People would recognize you and you'd be 
ruined." 

Jane sighed and slumped down in her seat. 

"Do you want to go back, Jane?" 

"Yes. No! Oh, Mark, I don't know! I'm so terribly upset and confused I just 
don't know what I want to do. I'm not the same person I was a few weeks ago. 
I couldn't go back to the life I had before. To be perfectly honest, I don't 
think I believe in the cause any more. I don't think I ever really did. 
Maybe it was just a crutch, like Doctor Gorman said." 

Mark heard her sob and begin crying. 

"Get a grip on yourself, Jane! You're not in the least responsible for what 
has happened. You can't blame yourself for anything, and crying and feeling 
sorry for yourself won't help." 

"I am responsible, Mark," she said in a soft voice. "At least partially. I 
knew what was going on. I just wouldn't admit it to myself. You don't know 
it, but I was a mixed up girl before I ever came down here. Doctor Gorman 
helped me look at myself in the mirror, and I didn't like what I saw. Right 
now I feel like I'm walking a thin, tight rope to keep my sanity. What am I 
going to do with myself, Mark?" 

To take her mind off her own problems, Mark began telling her the story of 
his life. He explained how he had met Guzman and why he decided to work for 
the organization. Jane listened quietly. 

"This morning I wrote Guzman a long letter explaining that I was leaving and 
taking you with me. I had made the decision yesterday, but I had nothing 
firm in mind until after Guzman and Consuela left this morning." 

Mark purposely avoided mentioning Dr. Gorman's horrible death because he was 
afraid it would make Jane lose what little balance she now had. 

"Won't they try to catch us?" Jane asked. 

"I suppose so," Mark replied, "but with any luck we'll be on a plane out of 
the country within an hour and a half." 

"Where will we go?" 

Mark caught the use of the pronoun and smiled. He hadn't realized until that 
moment how important it was to have Jane with him. 

"We'll go where the first plane goes, providing it isn't headed for the 
States. I have enough money to see us through for a while. Are you sure you 
want to go with me?" 

"If you'll have me," she answered. "I'm all mixed up, Mark, and I'll need 
some help to find myself. You have to start all over and so do I. Maybe we 
can help each other. You'll probably have to do all the helping, though." 

They were driving down Insurgentes now. Mark turned off to cut across town 
to the airport and avoid the central section. 

"Aren't we going to be in danger wherever we go?" Jane asked. 

"I don't think so. Once they know we're out of the country they'll leave us 
alone. We can't cause them any trouble, and I told Guzman in my letter that 
we weren't even going to try to." 

 CHAPTER SIXTEEN 

Mildred Thatcher had been anxious all day. The meeting was scheduled for 
seven-thirty and everybody was in town. By four there was still no word from 
Jane Horner, and Mildred wondered what she could do to satisfy everyone who 
had come to Omaha to hear Jane talk about the new discovery she had 
mentioned in her letter. And there had been calls from all the other cities. 
Their meetings were set for tonight and they'd had no word from Jane either. 

The most disquieting thing was the report from Mexico City that Jane had not 
attended the conference there. It was all so unlike Jane! 

Mildred rushed here and there, telling people she expected Jane any moment, 
calming those on the phone with assurances that Jane was certain to keep her 
word and searching desperately for something to use in Jane's place at the 
meeting. 

The uniformed delivery man arrived at five with a can of film addressed to 
Mildred from Jane Horner in Mexico City. A note attached to the package told 
Mildred to show the film to the group that night. It was typed, but Mildred 
recognized Jane's signature. "Thank God," she muttered as she hastily signed 
the delivery receipt. 

The lights dimmed and the large group saw A MESSAGE FROM JANE HORNER flash 
on the screen. The title faded and they saw Jane seated in what appeared to 
be a very elegant room. 

"Look!" a woman shouted. "It's little Janie Horner!" 

Jane's voice came into the room loud and clear. 

"Helb, I'm Jane Horner and I'm so glad you could come this evening. I have 
something important to tell you and I'm using this means because I can't be 
there personally. 

"As you know, in the past we have discussed how marjuana leads to immoral 
sexual behavior. Medical men tell us there's no relationship between 
marijuana and sexual conduct. They are wrong. Having smoked marijuana, I can 
tell you that you become very stimulated, sexually aroused, and you have to 
have sex. It intensifies the contact and makes the act more exiting. It 
prolongs the orgasm. 

"I have just completed extensive personal research and I have come to the 
conclusion that we have misdirected our energies. You see, sex is great! We 
should encourage our youngsters to use their bodies the way nature intended 
for them to. Sex is not evil. It's only those of us who try to discourage it 
who are acting unnaturally." 

There was a stirring in the room. People could hardly believe their eyes and 
ears. This wasn't the Jane Horner they had heard so often. It made them feel 
uncomfortable...."Marijuana has changed me entirely. I found that by denying 
myself sex I was becoming a dried up old bat like most of you. People are 
miserable because of what you and I have done to them. We should leave them 
alone, let them enjoy themselves. 

"If we have to do something, let's have an orgy!" 

The men and women in the audience were horrified as they watched Jane pull 
her dress over her head and reveal her lush nude body. They shuddered as 
they saw her throw it in the air and walk off the screen. 

Then the scene changed. Jane was on her back on a large bed, one man 
kneeling above her head with his erect penis in her mouth and another man 
using his tongue between her legs. There were others on the bed, all engaged 
in a variety of depraved sex acts. 

Silence hung heavy in the room. No one attempted to turn the projector off. 
Men shifted in their seats to try to hide the obvious bulge in their pants. 
Women rubbed their warm thighs together, hoping no one would notice what 
they were doing. 

"Fuck me! Will somebody please fuck me?" 

An audible gasp swept through the audience as Jane's words rang through the 
room. Hands crept into laps, hopeful that the darkness would conceal what 
they did. Breath came heavier and faster. There were even some low moans 
heard from various parts of the room. 

"Disgusting!" a voice said when the film finished. 

"Revolting! Positvely revolting!" a feminine voice agreed. 

"Little Janie Horner should be punished! She's just like all the rest of the 
degenerates in this country!" said a man at the back of the room. 

"It's a communist plot! You can bet on that!" said a woman in the front row. 

The lights went on. People shuffled about trying to straighten their 
clothes. Some faces were red. Reverend James stood before the group and held 
up his hands for silence. 

"I think this terrible thing we have seen tonight should serve as a warning 
to all of us. It could happen to any one of us at any time! It's our duty to 
double our efforts to rid our society of this horrible menace!" 


THE END
