old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
I wish I could say these will come in handy for my Spanish holidays, but apart from Bienvenido, I fear this old bloke won't get much chance to use the rest.
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The Nude Nurse and the Master of the Whip.
- Thread starter Praefectus Praetorio
- Start date
I wish I could say these will come in handy for my Spanish holidays, but apart from Bienvenido, I fear this old bloke won't get much chance to use the rest.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Go for it! What have you got to lose - except maybe a badly-slapped cheek!
Where do you stay in Spain?
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
This year touring the Pyrenees and Costa Brava, so Catalan may be more useful than Castilian.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Some of the words I used are more Chilean, which would be even stranger there.
My one visit was Andalucía, in and around Málaga. Every restaurant featured an "English Breakfast"!
And was probably frequented by several UK notorious gangsters -
who would have been very familiar with the methods, if not the vocabulary, of DINA.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
You could easily pick out the UK's, lobster exposed skin with an ethereally pale whiteness right next.
Mostly even older farts than yours truly. But, now and then there were little bands of younger, dangerous looking Brits.
I wasn't there to eat English or American food, so I usually walked right by the big "English Breakfast 6€" sign.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
What do you think Eulalia would give about now for a nice "English Breakfast" in the warm Andalucían sun, listening to the waves lapping the shore!
She's had a hard day. I hope they show her some mercy and kindness when she goes home to Wing D.
She's had a hard day. I hope they show her some mercy and kindness when she goes home to Wing D.
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
EUR 6!!! Rich American tourists in danger of being fleeced by cafe owners. Should be able to get an English for EUR 4.
In the Andalucían sun, she would be forced to eat a harmful full-fat Scottish, but in Wing D, the porridge tends to be pure organic male.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
My pricing is several years out of date.
So true. But one might argue that the relative healthiness of the choices is de minimis, given her current life expectancy.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Part 62 April 2, 1974 - The Seventh Day, evening, Wing D
Arriving back at D Wing, Eul was placed in the room where she had been raped the night before. Hood removed, cuffs left on, the Sergeant cleared the room and sat her on the cot. A tray of food was brought and he spoon-fed her. There seemed a little more of the gruel and there was a small piece of crusty bread. Slowly Eul, came around, more alert. But with that came greater awareness of the pain in her breasts and ass. Nevertheless, her near starvation state caused her to eat greedily. After she finished, he left her alone for about thirty minutes. She was puzzled. He’d been almost gentle.
After the break, The Sergeant returned with four guards. It was clear what was going to happen. Nevertheless, Eulalia, arms bound, futilely tried to cower in the corner of the cot. As the men leered at her, lowering their trousers, she was aware of the terrible pain and soreness from her cunt to her ass.
“La puerta trasera esta abierta,” said the Sergeant to the laughter of the men. “Pero, el Coronel quiere que disfrutes de todos sus encantos. Boca y coño!” “Sorry, Senorita. You must please these four, but only one hour.” He pointed at his watch and the men nodded as he left her to them.
Trousers off, cocks erect and threatening, the four moved toward the crying, begging girl. The hellish cuffs still binding her arms behind and cutting into her wrists, left her with no way to really resist. She kicked out at them, but they simply grabbed her ankles. Her weakened legs could not get free as they turned her over and spread them so wide, she felt like a wishbone about to be snapped. The men joked at the bloody and dirty appearance of her asshole. One brutally slapped her welted butt drawing a pitiful cry in response. He then stepped up and placed the head of his cock between her spread buttcheeks against the anus. Eul cried out in pain at the contact. But her torn and stretched sphincter was not able to clench in self-defense. With one hard, fast thrust, the man buried himself, full length in her torn rear. Her hoarse scream was noticeably weaker than the one’s earlier in the day. The girl was simply wearing out under the constant abuse. The man plowed hard in and out, grabbing her sides for leverage. His fingers dug painfully into the fresh welts from the cat.
As the four men worked her over, Eul’s tortured mind was thankful that they rotated between her ass and cunt and mouth. It all hurt, but she thought she might have died right there if they had assaulted her rear constantly. After what seemed an eternity, but which must have been an hour, the Sergeant reappeared. The men pulled up their pants and dragged the girl to her cell. With no need to undress the naked woman, they propped her up against the wall, attached the collar and left.
The Sergeant remained, standing behind her. Eulalia prepared for him to rape her ass. She prayed for strength from somewhere to just get through the next ten minutes.
He approached her and took hold of her arms. He gently lifted and steadied her against the wall. Then he spread her feet a little so she was in a stable position. His hands went to her waist and he kissed her on the cheek. Eulalia closed her eyes and prayed as hard as she had ever prayed in her life. Prayed with a strength and sincerity that she hadn’t known since as a little girl with her mother. And then, suddenly, without warning, as she prayed, the lights went out and the door closed.
Amazed, she opened her eyes in the darkness and turned around. Nothing. Her fevered mind struggled to understand what had just happened.
Arriving back at D Wing, Eul was placed in the room where she had been raped the night before. Hood removed, cuffs left on, the Sergeant cleared the room and sat her on the cot. A tray of food was brought and he spoon-fed her. There seemed a little more of the gruel and there was a small piece of crusty bread. Slowly Eul, came around, more alert. But with that came greater awareness of the pain in her breasts and ass. Nevertheless, her near starvation state caused her to eat greedily. After she finished, he left her alone for about thirty minutes. She was puzzled. He’d been almost gentle.
After the break, The Sergeant returned with four guards. It was clear what was going to happen. Nevertheless, Eulalia, arms bound, futilely tried to cower in the corner of the cot. As the men leered at her, lowering their trousers, she was aware of the terrible pain and soreness from her cunt to her ass.
“La puerta trasera esta abierta,” said the Sergeant to the laughter of the men. “Pero, el Coronel quiere que disfrutes de todos sus encantos. Boca y coño!” “Sorry, Senorita. You must please these four, but only one hour.” He pointed at his watch and the men nodded as he left her to them.
Trousers off, cocks erect and threatening, the four moved toward the crying, begging girl. The hellish cuffs still binding her arms behind and cutting into her wrists, left her with no way to really resist. She kicked out at them, but they simply grabbed her ankles. Her weakened legs could not get free as they turned her over and spread them so wide, she felt like a wishbone about to be snapped. The men joked at the bloody and dirty appearance of her asshole. One brutally slapped her welted butt drawing a pitiful cry in response. He then stepped up and placed the head of his cock between her spread buttcheeks against the anus. Eul cried out in pain at the contact. But her torn and stretched sphincter was not able to clench in self-defense. With one hard, fast thrust, the man buried himself, full length in her torn rear. Her hoarse scream was noticeably weaker than the one’s earlier in the day. The girl was simply wearing out under the constant abuse. The man plowed hard in and out, grabbing her sides for leverage. His fingers dug painfully into the fresh welts from the cat.
As the four men worked her over, Eul’s tortured mind was thankful that they rotated between her ass and cunt and mouth. It all hurt, but she thought she might have died right there if they had assaulted her rear constantly. After what seemed an eternity, but which must have been an hour, the Sergeant reappeared. The men pulled up their pants and dragged the girl to her cell. With no need to undress the naked woman, they propped her up against the wall, attached the collar and left.
The Sergeant remained, standing behind her. Eulalia prepared for him to rape her ass. She prayed for strength from somewhere to just get through the next ten minutes.
He approached her and took hold of her arms. He gently lifted and steadied her against the wall. Then he spread her feet a little so she was in a stable position. His hands went to her waist and he kissed her on the cheek. Eulalia closed her eyes and prayed as hard as she had ever prayed in her life. Prayed with a strength and sincerity that she hadn’t known since as a little girl with her mother. And then, suddenly, without warning, as she prayed, the lights went out and the door closed.
Amazed, she opened her eyes in the darkness and turned around. Nothing. Her fevered mind struggled to understand what had just happened.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Part 63 April 2, 1974 - The Seventh Day, evening, Ritz-Carlton, Private Dining Room
The group sat around the table after dinner in the private dining room of the Ritz-Carlton. Dean Hawkins had hosted the group for a spectacularly delicious meal specially prepared by the Hotel’s head chef. Now they were relaxing with fine brandy and cigars.
At the head of the Table was Hawkins as host. At his right was Coronel Juan Manuel Rodríguez. Next to him was Capitán Carlos ‘Trueno’ Balenge. To Hawkins left was Mayor Antonio Lopez. Next to him was Capitán Matías Ayara, invited as the mentor of Gabriela Sánchez. Mayor Víctor Muñoz had been invited, but had asked to be excused as he packed to leave in a couple of days for his retirement.
Coronel Rodríguez tapped his water glass and everyone immediately fell silent and gave their attention to the ranking officer and natural leader of the group.
“First, I’m sure I speak for all in thanking our host, Dean Robert Hawkins, OM, for providing this most magnificent meal.” General applause and ¡Gran trabajo!
“You are all very welcome. But I must point out that the cost is incurred by the University of Glasgow, Overseas Outreach Fund. It did not cost me a penny.”
“But you are the genius behind it all. And you have supported us and we are truly grateful.”
Calls of ¡Si! ¡Si! ¡Si! were made by all.
“We are here to celebrate the wonderful performance we have engineered with Miss Eulalia Burns. I am only sorry that she could not attend – another social engagement I understand! [much laughter] Trueno and I have been the principal actors. [applause] You, Lopez, played a great judge! [more applause]. You, Ayara, prepped Gabriela Sánchez beautifully for her role. [applause].”
“And, of course, Dean Hawkins provided invaluable information in breaking her mind, [much applause] and her butt!” [raucous cheers and applause!]
“Her spirit has been completely broken and her body nearly so. We now must decide exactly how to complete her fate.”
“You are right about her body,” added Trueno. “After the rigors of yesterday and today, I doubt she could last through two more days of similar treatment. Did you see her when they brought her in this morning even after the guards went easy on her last night?”
“I agree,” said Lopez. “She is rapidly approaching her limit. Let’s decide what we really want to do to her before we lose the chance.”
“I have decided,” said the Colonel, “that I will take your advice, Lopez, we will execute her by crucifixion!”
There was a short, stunned silence in the room and then all burst out with expressions of enthusiasm (except Ayara, whose expression was slightly ill.)
“I have ordered the supplies, which should be here tomorrow. "We are flying in an Americano expert from the Ark of Kansas. Arbol, I think his name is. I have fixed the execution for noon, the following day. In her weakened state, we probably won’t see her last over 8 hours. However, I’m sure she’ll provide excellent entertainment.”
“Muy Excelente Entretenimiento,” agreed Trueno.
“Capital idea, Colonel,” said Hawkins. “I’ve always had an interest in the classics. It will be a privilege to see a crucis in persona!”
“Since we don’t want her too much more weakened before her execution, I’ve decided to treat myself to her company at my mountain cabin.”
“Si, si, Mi Coronel,” said Trueno. “You deserve the fun! It has been your genius that put this all together!” All expressed agreement.
“So, Subteniente Martinez and I and Eulalia will leave tomorrow at 1:00 PM sharp and return early the next morning.”
“But tomorrow morning, I get my último oportunidad at the zorra, correct?” asked Trueno.
“Si, mi amigo. As long as you finish by eleven and give her a little rest and lunch,” the Colonel agreed. He turned to the rest. “Capitán Trueno has an interesting theory about an ‘último secreto.’ You explain, Capitán.”
“Thank you. Gentlemen, I have interrogated and tortured many, many people. They give up all the information I want eventually. They cannot resist El Trueno. But, over the years, I have found that they hold back one thing. They all have some small, deep secret that they won’t divulge. It is the way they retain some dignity, some self-respect by not surrendering totally to the interrogator. It usually is something no-one else knows. Sometimes even they have forgotten it. But it is there. I find it very sustancioso, gratifying, to force them to remember it. To force them to share it with me so that their soul is left totally exposed and bare. Eulalia Burns has such a último secreto. I believe I can get it out of her in a couple of hours of careful questioning. When I succeed, I will see the el ultimo dolor in her eyes.” Trueno seemed to be off in another world as he said this. He turned to Hawkins.”
“El ultimo dolor, the highest pain or grief – it is wonderful!”
“I would love to see that!” responded the Dean warmly.
“You shall,” said Trueno. Looking around, “You are all welcome in the observation room. But I must be alone with Eul. Not even a guard. Just Eulalia and I. Looking into each other’s eyes, into the soul. It is a sacred moment. It is ¡el ultimo orgasmo!”
“Whew,” said Hawkins, fanning himself with a napkin. Then they all laughed.
“Capitán Ayara, you seem very quiet.” Said the Colonel.
“Lo siento mucho, Coronel,” said the Capitán. “I am feeling a little under the weather. Could I be excused?”
“Of course, Capitán. Why don’t you go back to Grimaldi now and make sure everything is arranged for my trip tomorrow and for the next day. Then go to bed early.”
“Muchas gracias, Mi Coronel.” He got up, said his farewells and left.
“I don’t think his heart is in this business,” said the Coronel. “He’s a good man, but doesn’t fit here. I’m going to transfer him next month to a regular combat unit with tye promotion he has earned.”
“You take good care of your men, Colonel,” said Robert.
“I care deeply about my people and their happiness!”
“Given your generosity, I would like to ask a favor,” ventured the Dean. “There is a housemaid, Carmella Blanco, at my hotel. I sampled some of her pleasures last night, but I would really like to explore more of her limits. She comes from a poor family, no one will care about her. Might I ‘interview’ her in Villa Grimaldi, with your help, of course?”
“Is this maid attractive?” asked the Colonel, with a grin.
“Very. Petite, just 18, very nicely rounded and very innocent!”
“That sounds marvelous, Dean. When you leave tonight, give my aide her information and I’ll have her picked up for ‘questioning’ after we finish with Eulalia.”
The group sat around the table after dinner in the private dining room of the Ritz-Carlton. Dean Hawkins had hosted the group for a spectacularly delicious meal specially prepared by the Hotel’s head chef. Now they were relaxing with fine brandy and cigars.
At the head of the Table was Hawkins as host. At his right was Coronel Juan Manuel Rodríguez. Next to him was Capitán Carlos ‘Trueno’ Balenge. To Hawkins left was Mayor Antonio Lopez. Next to him was Capitán Matías Ayara, invited as the mentor of Gabriela Sánchez. Mayor Víctor Muñoz had been invited, but had asked to be excused as he packed to leave in a couple of days for his retirement.
Coronel Rodríguez tapped his water glass and everyone immediately fell silent and gave their attention to the ranking officer and natural leader of the group.
“First, I’m sure I speak for all in thanking our host, Dean Robert Hawkins, OM, for providing this most magnificent meal.” General applause and ¡Gran trabajo!
“You are all very welcome. But I must point out that the cost is incurred by the University of Glasgow, Overseas Outreach Fund. It did not cost me a penny.”
“But you are the genius behind it all. And you have supported us and we are truly grateful.”
Calls of ¡Si! ¡Si! ¡Si! were made by all.
“We are here to celebrate the wonderful performance we have engineered with Miss Eulalia Burns. I am only sorry that she could not attend – another social engagement I understand! [much laughter] Trueno and I have been the principal actors. [applause] You, Lopez, played a great judge! [more applause]. You, Ayara, prepped Gabriela Sánchez beautifully for her role. [applause].”
“And, of course, Dean Hawkins provided invaluable information in breaking her mind, [much applause] and her butt!” [raucous cheers and applause!]
“Her spirit has been completely broken and her body nearly so. We now must decide exactly how to complete her fate.”
“You are right about her body,” added Trueno. “After the rigors of yesterday and today, I doubt she could last through two more days of similar treatment. Did you see her when they brought her in this morning even after the guards went easy on her last night?”
“I agree,” said Lopez. “She is rapidly approaching her limit. Let’s decide what we really want to do to her before we lose the chance.”
“I have decided,” said the Colonel, “that I will take your advice, Lopez, we will execute her by crucifixion!”
There was a short, stunned silence in the room and then all burst out with expressions of enthusiasm (except Ayara, whose expression was slightly ill.)
“I have ordered the supplies, which should be here tomorrow. "We are flying in an Americano expert from the Ark of Kansas. Arbol, I think his name is. I have fixed the execution for noon, the following day. In her weakened state, we probably won’t see her last over 8 hours. However, I’m sure she’ll provide excellent entertainment.”
“Muy Excelente Entretenimiento,” agreed Trueno.
“Capital idea, Colonel,” said Hawkins. “I’ve always had an interest in the classics. It will be a privilege to see a crucis in persona!”
“Since we don’t want her too much more weakened before her execution, I’ve decided to treat myself to her company at my mountain cabin.”
“Si, si, Mi Coronel,” said Trueno. “You deserve the fun! It has been your genius that put this all together!” All expressed agreement.
“So, Subteniente Martinez and I and Eulalia will leave tomorrow at 1:00 PM sharp and return early the next morning.”
“But tomorrow morning, I get my último oportunidad at the zorra, correct?” asked Trueno.
“Si, mi amigo. As long as you finish by eleven and give her a little rest and lunch,” the Colonel agreed. He turned to the rest. “Capitán Trueno has an interesting theory about an ‘último secreto.’ You explain, Capitán.”
“Thank you. Gentlemen, I have interrogated and tortured many, many people. They give up all the information I want eventually. They cannot resist El Trueno. But, over the years, I have found that they hold back one thing. They all have some small, deep secret that they won’t divulge. It is the way they retain some dignity, some self-respect by not surrendering totally to the interrogator. It usually is something no-one else knows. Sometimes even they have forgotten it. But it is there. I find it very sustancioso, gratifying, to force them to remember it. To force them to share it with me so that their soul is left totally exposed and bare. Eulalia Burns has such a último secreto. I believe I can get it out of her in a couple of hours of careful questioning. When I succeed, I will see the el ultimo dolor in her eyes.” Trueno seemed to be off in another world as he said this. He turned to Hawkins.”
“El ultimo dolor, the highest pain or grief – it is wonderful!”
“I would love to see that!” responded the Dean warmly.
“You shall,” said Trueno. Looking around, “You are all welcome in the observation room. But I must be alone with Eul. Not even a guard. Just Eulalia and I. Looking into each other’s eyes, into the soul. It is a sacred moment. It is ¡el ultimo orgasmo!”
“Whew,” said Hawkins, fanning himself with a napkin. Then they all laughed.
“Capitán Ayara, you seem very quiet.” Said the Colonel.
“Lo siento mucho, Coronel,” said the Capitán. “I am feeling a little under the weather. Could I be excused?”
“Of course, Capitán. Why don’t you go back to Grimaldi now and make sure everything is arranged for my trip tomorrow and for the next day. Then go to bed early.”
“Muchas gracias, Mi Coronel.” He got up, said his farewells and left.
“I don’t think his heart is in this business,” said the Coronel. “He’s a good man, but doesn’t fit here. I’m going to transfer him next month to a regular combat unit with tye promotion he has earned.”
“You take good care of your men, Colonel,” said Robert.
“I care deeply about my people and their happiness!”
“Given your generosity, I would like to ask a favor,” ventured the Dean. “There is a housemaid, Carmella Blanco, at my hotel. I sampled some of her pleasures last night, but I would really like to explore more of her limits. She comes from a poor family, no one will care about her. Might I ‘interview’ her in Villa Grimaldi, with your help, of course?”
“Is this maid attractive?” asked the Colonel, with a grin.
“Very. Petite, just 18, very nicely rounded and very innocent!”
“That sounds marvelous, Dean. When you leave tonight, give my aide her information and I’ll have her picked up for ‘questioning’ after we finish with Eulalia.”
Last edited by a moderator:
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Editor's note. A section was garbled and omitted from this post. Right after the Colonel says he's ordered the tools, he says.
"We are flying in an Americano expert from the Ark of Kansas. Arbol, I think his name is.
eul note: I've edited that in, I hope in the right place
"We are flying in an Americano expert from the Ark of Kansas. Arbol, I think his name is.
eul note: I've edited that in, I hope in the right place
Last edited by a moderator:
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Well, that ends Eul's first week at Villa Grimaldi. On a positive note, she is still alive, most don't make it this long.
But the future is not looking good.
Once tree gets there it's probably all over.
Maybe the new week will bring new hope.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Part 64 April 3, 1974 - The Eighth Day, soon after midnight, American Embassy
I was sleeping on a cot in the small, temporary office I’d been assigned. I had a hotel room, but time had become so short to rescue Miss Burns, that I didn’t want to miss a call. After several days of late nights and overnight flights, I had passed out the moment my head hit the pillow at 10:30 PM. Just after midnight, the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Caballero blindado primero here. Is this Caballero blindado segundo?” José’s ‘humorous ideas for code names. (‘knight in armor one and two’).
“Si, pedazo de mierda. What’s up?”
“I have the good news and the bad news. Which are you wanting first?”
“Always the bad. Then I can start climbing out of the shithole.”
“They really are going to crucify Eulalia. They’ve even ordered the wood and nails! And some expert from a place called Ark of Kansas.”
“Arkansas. God-damned hillbillies out there! They all voted for Nixon. They would do something as evil as this.”
“Si. It’s scheduled for tomorrow, April 4”
“You have good news?”
“My contact is disgusted with the crucifixion idea. He’s told me that the Coronel is taking Eul to his mountain cabaña tomorrow. He’ll play with her there, rape and torture, and then bring her back the following morning for the execution. He’ll have his assistant, called ‘The Master of the Whip’ give her a thorough, bloody whipping and then nail her naked to a cross. I guess her horrible death the next day is meant as a thank you for the pleasure she’ll give him!”
“Such a sweet guy!”
“I have the time he’s leaving later today and his route.”
“Bingo! I’ll get a roadblock arranged, also the extraction arrangement. You still want to come along?”
“Si.”
I explained my plan in detail. Several back and forth refinements, and we had it complete. The timing was very tight. Getting everything together and in place to intercept the Colonel would be difficult.
“What if we are too late and he gets by before we’re there?” asked José.
“Then we go to Plan B.”
“What is Plan B?”
“I don’t know yet,” I replied. “What do you think of our chances, my friend?’
“¡Muy bien! I’d give us a good 25%.”
“That’s not bad,” I replied. When I left DC to come here, I gave it about 5%.”
“This is what you Americanos call the gallows humor?”
“Yep. All I know is, I’m going to try my best to save this girl. If I don’t, and she dies horribly, I’ll be able to sleep at night, at least two or three weeks from now.”
“We just might pull this off, mi amigo!”
“¡Dos Caballeros!”
April 3, 1974 - The Eighth Day, 8:32 AM Hotel Paraíso
As Barbara lounged lazily in bed, she began to make plans for the day. She had so much to do!
She called the desk and was able to make a reservation for 10 AM at their spa. Full treatment she insisted, the best you’ve got!
Then she ordered breakfast in her room. Eggs Benedict with wild-caught Smoked Chilean Salmon (Barb always preferred the alternative name Eggs Royale), with a side of red potatoes cut and pan fried with butter, garlic and rosemary. And a Mimosa. Barb had fallen in love with the drink when she’d heard it was invented at the Hôtel Ritz Paris by Frank Meier, in 1925.
Then she phoned and made a late luncheon appointment with that deliciously handsome, single, doctor from the hospital. He agreed to meet her at the Ritz Carlton’s renowned dining room. That way she thought, she could sample two temptations at once. And, since he was a prominent physician, she could look like she was doing some work today. She held off making any plans for the later afternoon to keep open her options with the dashing Dr. Vergara!
Moore then thought of Dr. Windar. He had become such a bore, always asking what she had accomplished, why she had spent Red Cross money, always critical. She decided that the problem was that it had been over two months since they had been together and the old goat was probably getting randy!
Barb thought that she should soon make a quick trip to Geneva to sooth Windar’s nerves (and the rest of his body!). She also wanted to buy more of those “heavenly” chocolates she’d sampled last time there (paid for by the Red Cross). And a side trip to Paris to replace her dress would be a special treat. She deserved it after putting up with the Colonel.
Just then, her breakfast came. The room service boy was very cute. She gave him a large tip, on the room, and a generous peek down her loose chemise top. She just adored the blush she caused on his sweet ?face. If Dr. Vergara didn’t work out, she was sure this boy would be putty in her hands. The smell of the eggs, hollandaise and salmon was heavenly. She took a sip of Mimosa, and dug into her breakfast.
She went over in her mind what dress she would wear for the Doctor. Her candy-colored wrap dress,
the black and gold fitted sleeveless shift,
or the oh-so-snug black mini
? She did love her job.
I was sleeping on a cot in the small, temporary office I’d been assigned. I had a hotel room, but time had become so short to rescue Miss Burns, that I didn’t want to miss a call. After several days of late nights and overnight flights, I had passed out the moment my head hit the pillow at 10:30 PM. Just after midnight, the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Caballero blindado primero here. Is this Caballero blindado segundo?” José’s ‘humorous ideas for code names. (‘knight in armor one and two’).
“Si, pedazo de mierda. What’s up?”
“I have the good news and the bad news. Which are you wanting first?”
“Always the bad. Then I can start climbing out of the shithole.”
“They really are going to crucify Eulalia. They’ve even ordered the wood and nails! And some expert from a place called Ark of Kansas.”
“Arkansas. God-damned hillbillies out there! They all voted for Nixon. They would do something as evil as this.”
“Si. It’s scheduled for tomorrow, April 4”
“You have good news?”
“My contact is disgusted with the crucifixion idea. He’s told me that the Coronel is taking Eul to his mountain cabaña tomorrow. He’ll play with her there, rape and torture, and then bring her back the following morning for the execution. He’ll have his assistant, called ‘The Master of the Whip’ give her a thorough, bloody whipping and then nail her naked to a cross. I guess her horrible death the next day is meant as a thank you for the pleasure she’ll give him!”
“Such a sweet guy!”
“I have the time he’s leaving later today and his route.”
“Bingo! I’ll get a roadblock arranged, also the extraction arrangement. You still want to come along?”
“Si.”
I explained my plan in detail. Several back and forth refinements, and we had it complete. The timing was very tight. Getting everything together and in place to intercept the Colonel would be difficult.
“What if we are too late and he gets by before we’re there?” asked José.
“Then we go to Plan B.”
“What is Plan B?”
“I don’t know yet,” I replied. “What do you think of our chances, my friend?’
“¡Muy bien! I’d give us a good 25%.”
“That’s not bad,” I replied. When I left DC to come here, I gave it about 5%.”
“This is what you Americanos call the gallows humor?”
“Yep. All I know is, I’m going to try my best to save this girl. If I don’t, and she dies horribly, I’ll be able to sleep at night, at least two or three weeks from now.”
“We just might pull this off, mi amigo!”
“¡Dos Caballeros!”
April 3, 1974 - The Eighth Day, 8:32 AM Hotel Paraíso
As Barbara lounged lazily in bed, she began to make plans for the day. She had so much to do!
She called the desk and was able to make a reservation for 10 AM at their spa. Full treatment she insisted, the best you’ve got!
Then she ordered breakfast in her room. Eggs Benedict with wild-caught Smoked Chilean Salmon (Barb always preferred the alternative name Eggs Royale), with a side of red potatoes cut and pan fried with butter, garlic and rosemary. And a Mimosa. Barb had fallen in love with the drink when she’d heard it was invented at the Hôtel Ritz Paris by Frank Meier, in 1925.
Then she phoned and made a late luncheon appointment with that deliciously handsome, single, doctor from the hospital. He agreed to meet her at the Ritz Carlton’s renowned dining room. That way she thought, she could sample two temptations at once. And, since he was a prominent physician, she could look like she was doing some work today. She held off making any plans for the later afternoon to keep open her options with the dashing Dr. Vergara!
Moore then thought of Dr. Windar. He had become such a bore, always asking what she had accomplished, why she had spent Red Cross money, always critical. She decided that the problem was that it had been over two months since they had been together and the old goat was probably getting randy!
Barb thought that she should soon make a quick trip to Geneva to sooth Windar’s nerves (and the rest of his body!). She also wanted to buy more of those “heavenly” chocolates she’d sampled last time there (paid for by the Red Cross). And a side trip to Paris to replace her dress would be a special treat. She deserved it after putting up with the Colonel.
Just then, her breakfast came. The room service boy was very cute. She gave him a large tip, on the room, and a generous peek down her loose chemise top. She just adored the blush she caused on his sweet ?face. If Dr. Vergara didn’t work out, she was sure this boy would be putty in her hands. The smell of the eggs, hollandaise and salmon was heavenly. She took a sip of Mimosa, and dug into her breakfast.
She went over in her mind what dress she would wear for the Doctor. Her candy-colored wrap dress,
the black and gold fitted sleeveless shift, or the oh-so-snug black mini? She did love her job.
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
Reading this made me remember what I heard on the radio from a politician this morning regarding Brexit. I don't want to divert this exciting thread to politics, but just a little anecdote PrPr please?
Theresa May's Plan A was rejected, and parliament ordered her to come up with an alternative this week. Now an MP tweets:
[B]Tom Brake MP[/B]Verified account @[B]thomasbrake[/B] 5h5 hours ago
Now after just 5 days of talks with
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
My worry here is that Jewels, like Ms. May, could be forced to Plan C(rap).
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
We go back to day Seven and see what happened to the girl given up by Ramon Sánchez.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Part 65 April 2, 1974 - The Seventh Day, Wing D, 8:30 AM, Interrogation Room 4
Mayor Víctor Muñoz, Senior Interrogator at Villa Grimaldi, sat at his desk in interrogation room 4, Cell block D, patiently waiting. This was it. His last protegida. He chuckled to himself at the term. Officially, at Villa Grimaldi, there were mentors and protegidas, mentors and protégés. As if he were a music instructor. Well, he thought, I do teach them to sing! He laughed softly to himself. Yes, he had been told, finish this one and he would be given his retirement. His cozy cabaña in the Patagonia, high in the Cisnes valley, awaited him. The trout begging to be caught.
As he waited, Víctor again reviewed the file in front of him. Elena Montoya, 18, first-year student at the University. One of those stuck-up educated brats who looked down on Army officers like him who had only completed High School. We would see shortly who looked down on whom! Organized student protests, reportedly knew everyone there in the opposition. A list of possible names attached. Instruction: break her as quickly as possible to get the names before they went underground. Well, that fit Víctor’s timetable perfectly. He had chosen room 4. Smallest of the interrogation rooms in D, it housed just the most extreme equipment. You did not toy with a prisoner here. You broke them and then you crushed them!
A surveillance photo of Elena walking across campus. A very pretty, very sexy girl. Dressed like the typical college slut. Tight, low-rider jeans and a cropped top displaying a flat tummy. She knew she turned on men, and he was sure she had used it against them. These young girls liked to tease a man and then drop him like a used handkerchief. No thought to the emotions or sexual needs of a man! Prostitutes treated him better, thought the Major. Well, today it would be different. Víctor noted the red dot on the top of each page in the file. Outcome decided, red ending. She would be executed, with prejudice. as soon as all useful information was acquired. “With prejudice” - tortured to death. Served the zorra right, thought Víctor.
The door opened and four guards escorted the girl in.
Elena was petite and shapely. Her clothes were in considerable disarray. Víctor wasn’t going to waste time on pleasantries. He signaled the guards to strip her. They quickly tore her clothes off, ripping them to shreds. They knew that prisoners never needed clothes after being questioned in Cuarto Numero Cuatro. Most of the time they didn’t leave alive. Hang her from the ceiling cable, he signaled. The instruction was followed and Elena was stretched from her handcuffs above to her feet barely touching the floor below. Víctor did not fail to notice her lovely young body. “Capucha Ocular.” The hoods had seams that allowed them to be raised off the mouth but remained covering the eyes. Some interrogators thought the blindness added to the victim’s terror, especially during a brutal session.
“Señorita Montoya, you are only 18. You are pretty and I can see in good health. You take care of yourself. If you cooperate and give me the information, I want, you can leave here today without too much difficulty. If you are very helpful, I can arrange to have you released this afternoon with no record.” Víctor made a cut-throat gesture for the benefit of the guards. They smiled but suppressed any laughter. They all knew that this girl would soon die in agonizing pain within walls of the Villa.
“What are the names of your contacts in the resistance?”
Elena was young and idealistic. She had talked often with her friends about how she was willing to make any sacrifice for the cause. She had stated emphatically many times that she was willing to die for the resistance.
However, Elena also was young and naïve. She had no idea what interrogation was like. She had had no training in resisting and keeping secrets. What was about to happen was something she was totally unprepared for.
“I reject your authority to question me. I reject this illegal government. I demand to know your name and rank!” she answered defiantly.
Víctor smiled. “I am the one asking questions here, Señorita Montoya. Please tell me your contacts.”
“¡Chinga tu madre, cabrón!” the girl sang it to the musical flourish. Elena was proud of her courage before this tool of the Oppressors.
He wasn’t a sadist. He really didn’t care one way or the other whether he had to hurt a prisoner. He just followed his orders and worked to earn his retirement. But he had worked long and hard to become a Mayor in DINA. He believed he deserved respect. This snotty, over-educated zorra had no respect for him. OK, Señorita, he thought, that just means I’ll enjoy what we’re about to do!
Víctor gestured toward her whole torso and slowly raised a closed fist to the four guards. Target her torso, hard blows with fist or end of truncheon. Measured speed so she feels each one. He lifted his coffee cup and took a sip as the dull thud of a closed fist connecting with a kidney sounded.
For the next fifteen minutes, the guards slowly and expertly worked over the young woman. A powerful fist to her right kidney was followed less than half-minute later by the end of a truncheon driven into her stomach and then, with the same delay a fist to her left ribcage, just less than the force needed to break a rib (that would come soon enough). The steady build-up of pain and damage flooding her mind.
Elena had anticipated pain. But like most persons untrained in enduring an interrogation, she had envisioned a single pain at a time. Something she would conquer with her mind. She would endure and smile at her captors and the pain would go away as she waited for the next. These men knew that defense well. A new blow was added before the full pain of the last had been realized. Elena was struggling to deal with the first punch when the second landed and so on. After two minutes and six crushing blows, she had no plan or will left. She just cried and begged for them to stop.
Ignoring the girls increasingly loud and desperate pleas, the four guards continued pounding her body until the Major finally raised his hand. Elena hung, sweating and moaning from the chain, her body from hips to shoulders decorated by red bruises, many of which were already turning purple.
Seeing the girl panting, her belly clenching from blows, her soft skin covered with sweat, Víctor felt his manhood rise at the highly-sexual sight. Rarely had he reacted this way during an interrogation.
¿Que demonios? he thought. It’s my last interrogation. I might as well enjoy it.
“Chucha, are you ready to tell me your contacts?”
Her defiance was gone. But her loyalty was still strong. She wouldn’t provoke them anymore; she would not, however, give names.
“I worked alone. I just handed out leaflets. I know no one else.”
Víctor directed guards to bring over an electrical apparatus. While that was being done, he signaled another guard to use the cane on her butt. The guard grabbed a thick Malacca and laid a hard blow on her right cheek.
“Oowww!!” Elena cried out at the unexpected blow. She tried to catch her breath to reason with her interrogator, but first another cane blow fell on her butt.
“AARRRGG!”
At Víctor’s signal, two guards began a regular alteration of canes to her butt cheeks. Soon the welts overlapped and cuts appeared with blood flowing. Another two minutes and a red mist of blood appeared in the air with each new blow. Elena screamed and struggled as unbelievable pain spread over her entire rear. With each blow her body jerked forward toward the Mayor, her firm rounded breasts bouncing and her lower belly thrusting as if in heat. Yes, he thought, a very sexy girl. The guards and I should get some pleasure here. We have plenty of time.
“Are you ready to betray your friends, zorra?” The Mayor intentionally framed the question to challenge her loyalty. He really hated this girl now and intended to make her suffer as much as possible before she cooperated.
“Owww, I…I.” Elena had thought of naming some fake names or those she hoped had fled. But ¡Traición!, Betrayal! Oh my God. Her rear was on fire; she imagined hot irons had been applied, it hurt so bad. No! She must be brave!
Víctor gave her plenty of time to answer. He was now enjoying the cat and mouse. In the end she would break. He knew that. Meanwhile she would suffer as she had never imagined in her worst nightmares.
“I know no names.”
At Víctor’s signal, men attached alligator clips to her hairy pussy lips. Elena groaned at the pain. Then, she knew what would happen. Her mouth shot wide open. Then she begged.
“Please, Oh my God NO! You wouldn’t. Please, please, please!! No!”
Víctor held up three fingers and then five. A guard set the dial to “3.” And reached for the switch.
“No! No! Pleas………ARRRGGGHHHH!!!!”
Zorro – a male fox; zorra – a female fox, an oversexed bitch
A film clip showing a Zorro and a zorra
Mayor Víctor Muñoz, Senior Interrogator at Villa Grimaldi, sat at his desk in interrogation room 4, Cell block D, patiently waiting. This was it. His last protegida. He chuckled to himself at the term. Officially, at Villa Grimaldi, there were mentors and protegidas, mentors and protégés. As if he were a music instructor. Well, he thought, I do teach them to sing! He laughed softly to himself. Yes, he had been told, finish this one and he would be given his retirement. His cozy cabaña in the Patagonia, high in the Cisnes valley, awaited him. The trout begging to be caught.
As he waited, Víctor again reviewed the file in front of him. Elena Montoya, 18, first-year student at the University. One of those stuck-up educated brats who looked down on Army officers like him who had only completed High School. We would see shortly who looked down on whom! Organized student protests, reportedly knew everyone there in the opposition. A list of possible names attached. Instruction: break her as quickly as possible to get the names before they went underground. Well, that fit Víctor’s timetable perfectly. He had chosen room 4. Smallest of the interrogation rooms in D, it housed just the most extreme equipment. You did not toy with a prisoner here. You broke them and then you crushed them!
A surveillance photo of Elena walking across campus. A very pretty, very sexy girl. Dressed like the typical college slut. Tight, low-rider jeans and a cropped top displaying a flat tummy. She knew she turned on men, and he was sure she had used it against them. These young girls liked to tease a man and then drop him like a used handkerchief. No thought to the emotions or sexual needs of a man! Prostitutes treated him better, thought the Major. Well, today it would be different. Víctor noted the red dot on the top of each page in the file. Outcome decided, red ending. She would be executed, with prejudice. as soon as all useful information was acquired. “With prejudice” - tortured to death. Served the zorra right, thought Víctor.
The door opened and four guards escorted the girl in.
Elena was petite and shapely. Her clothes were in considerable disarray. Víctor wasn’t going to waste time on pleasantries. He signaled the guards to strip her. They quickly tore her clothes off, ripping them to shreds. They knew that prisoners never needed clothes after being questioned in Cuarto Numero Cuatro. Most of the time they didn’t leave alive. Hang her from the ceiling cable, he signaled. The instruction was followed and Elena was stretched from her handcuffs above to her feet barely touching the floor below. Víctor did not fail to notice her lovely young body. “Capucha Ocular.” The hoods had seams that allowed them to be raised off the mouth but remained covering the eyes. Some interrogators thought the blindness added to the victim’s terror, especially during a brutal session.
“Señorita Montoya, you are only 18. You are pretty and I can see in good health. You take care of yourself. If you cooperate and give me the information, I want, you can leave here today without too much difficulty. If you are very helpful, I can arrange to have you released this afternoon with no record.” Víctor made a cut-throat gesture for the benefit of the guards. They smiled but suppressed any laughter. They all knew that this girl would soon die in agonizing pain within walls of the Villa.
“What are the names of your contacts in the resistance?”
Elena was young and idealistic. She had talked often with her friends about how she was willing to make any sacrifice for the cause. She had stated emphatically many times that she was willing to die for the resistance.
However, Elena also was young and naïve. She had no idea what interrogation was like. She had had no training in resisting and keeping secrets. What was about to happen was something she was totally unprepared for.
“I reject your authority to question me. I reject this illegal government. I demand to know your name and rank!” she answered defiantly.
Víctor smiled. “I am the one asking questions here, Señorita Montoya. Please tell me your contacts.”
“¡Chinga tu madre, cabrón!” the girl sang it to the musical flourish. Elena was proud of her courage before this tool of the Oppressors.
He wasn’t a sadist. He really didn’t care one way or the other whether he had to hurt a prisoner. He just followed his orders and worked to earn his retirement. But he had worked long and hard to become a Mayor in DINA. He believed he deserved respect. This snotty, over-educated zorra had no respect for him. OK, Señorita, he thought, that just means I’ll enjoy what we’re about to do!
Víctor gestured toward her whole torso and slowly raised a closed fist to the four guards. Target her torso, hard blows with fist or end of truncheon. Measured speed so she feels each one. He lifted his coffee cup and took a sip as the dull thud of a closed fist connecting with a kidney sounded.
For the next fifteen minutes, the guards slowly and expertly worked over the young woman. A powerful fist to her right kidney was followed less than half-minute later by the end of a truncheon driven into her stomach and then, with the same delay a fist to her left ribcage, just less than the force needed to break a rib (that would come soon enough). The steady build-up of pain and damage flooding her mind.
Elena had anticipated pain. But like most persons untrained in enduring an interrogation, she had envisioned a single pain at a time. Something she would conquer with her mind. She would endure and smile at her captors and the pain would go away as she waited for the next. These men knew that defense well. A new blow was added before the full pain of the last had been realized. Elena was struggling to deal with the first punch when the second landed and so on. After two minutes and six crushing blows, she had no plan or will left. She just cried and begged for them to stop.
Ignoring the girls increasingly loud and desperate pleas, the four guards continued pounding her body until the Major finally raised his hand. Elena hung, sweating and moaning from the chain, her body from hips to shoulders decorated by red bruises, many of which were already turning purple.
Seeing the girl panting, her belly clenching from blows, her soft skin covered with sweat, Víctor felt his manhood rise at the highly-sexual sight. Rarely had he reacted this way during an interrogation.
¿Que demonios? he thought. It’s my last interrogation. I might as well enjoy it.
“Chucha, are you ready to tell me your contacts?”
Her defiance was gone. But her loyalty was still strong. She wouldn’t provoke them anymore; she would not, however, give names.
“I worked alone. I just handed out leaflets. I know no one else.”
Víctor directed guards to bring over an electrical apparatus. While that was being done, he signaled another guard to use the cane on her butt. The guard grabbed a thick Malacca and laid a hard blow on her right cheek.
“Oowww!!” Elena cried out at the unexpected blow. She tried to catch her breath to reason with her interrogator, but first another cane blow fell on her butt.
“AARRRGG!”
At Víctor’s signal, two guards began a regular alteration of canes to her butt cheeks. Soon the welts overlapped and cuts appeared with blood flowing. Another two minutes and a red mist of blood appeared in the air with each new blow. Elena screamed and struggled as unbelievable pain spread over her entire rear. With each blow her body jerked forward toward the Mayor, her firm rounded breasts bouncing and her lower belly thrusting as if in heat. Yes, he thought, a very sexy girl. The guards and I should get some pleasure here. We have plenty of time.
“Are you ready to betray your friends, zorra?” The Mayor intentionally framed the question to challenge her loyalty. He really hated this girl now and intended to make her suffer as much as possible before she cooperated.
“Owww, I…I.” Elena had thought of naming some fake names or those she hoped had fled. But ¡Traición!, Betrayal! Oh my God. Her rear was on fire; she imagined hot irons had been applied, it hurt so bad. No! She must be brave!
Víctor gave her plenty of time to answer. He was now enjoying the cat and mouse. In the end she would break. He knew that. Meanwhile she would suffer as she had never imagined in her worst nightmares.
“I know no names.”
At Víctor’s signal, men attached alligator clips to her hairy pussy lips. Elena groaned at the pain. Then, she knew what would happen. Her mouth shot wide open. Then she begged.
“Please, Oh my God NO! You wouldn’t. Please, please, please!! No!”
Víctor held up three fingers and then five. A guard set the dial to “3.” And reached for the switch.
“No! No! Pleas………ARRRGGGHHHH!!!!”
Zorro – a male fox; zorra – a female fox, an oversexed bitch
A film clip showing a Zorro and a zorra
Corvid
Executioner
Such an image!...
Five men set upon one girl, nude and bound... I imagine there will always be at least one inflicting torture, however many are defiling her body. A zorra would be forced to recognize that satisfying her tormentors' lusts would bring her no respite from the application of pain, that she recognize her seductiveness offers her no power in her captivity. That her ravishment is only her defilement and further devastation, and cause for despair, not reprieve.