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  His fingers toyed with the sparse, fine growth that bearded her pussy while he shifted his mouth’s attentions to her other breast. She could feel his thick digits poking and prying at her closed thighs like a hoard of hungry leeches. “Ohhhhhhhhh!” she moaned again as she pressed her finely trimmed thighs harder together to deny the man his goal. His fevered lips were still tormenting her nipple and she was afraid of what he would find between her pale lower limbs. Her pussy was tingling with the effects of his earnest suckling at her breasts, his hard, hot left hand at her back and the force of his body pressed against her.

  Suddenly, the man pulled his head back from her breasts. The wind was whipping at the brim of the hat that he had scrunched down on his head. Margie could see her strangely decorated face and her wide, unhappy eyes reflected in her large, round sunglasses that he still wore. Her heart beat wildly when she felt the hardness of his cock press against her upper thigh.

  “What’s the matter, chica?” the man asked her tauntingly. “Don’t you want to have your precious papaya stuffed? I’m going to shove my thick cock up your pussy, conchita, in just one minute. And don’t think that your pretty, little panties are going to get in my way.”

  The bandit picked up his knife again and pulled at the elastic high on Margie’s left thigh. He had stuffed the hem of her skirt in her waistband and her slender, pale thighs and yellow panties were brazenly displayed. Marjorie whined through her gag when she felt him cut through the narrow fabric around her upper thigh. She wanted desperately to stop him, to fight him off, but her bound hands would not answer her. She wanted to leap to her feet and throw herself off of the speeding raft, but her imprisoned ankles could not respond.

  When the man had also cut the thin fabric of her panties between her waist and her thigh on the other side, he grabbed the dainty, yellow undergarment and gave it a mighty yank. It burned as it was dragged along her tingling nether lips. Tears welled from the dismal woman’s eyes as she realized that her defenseless sex was now bared. She watched remorsefully as the man held the torn panties in the air, letting them flutter in the wind for a few moments like some strange, obscene flag and then released them. Margie whined pitifully as she saw them fly away on the wind and then fall into the rushing water behind the boat.

  Diego took hold of the girl’s right teat between the fingers and thumb of his scarred, powerful left hand and gave it a vicious twist. The pain shot right through the unfortunate woman and she cried out behind her bright orange gag. “Ohhhhhhhh!” she yelled, “eeeease! eeeeeease! et oh! eeeeease!”

  The bandit laughed at the woman’s garbled, muffled attempt at words. “Spread your legs, whore,” he instructed her harshly, “or I’ll pull your nipple right off!”

  The man’s torture of her right nipple had caused Margie to lean forwards as far as her hogtied wrists would allow in an instinctive attempt to draw her breast away from his depredations. Her posture put most of her weight on her knees and she found it difficult to obey his command even though the excruciating pain in her breast was motivation enough. The man responded by taking hold of her other teat and squeezing it as well.

  “Aaaaaarrrrmmmmm!” Margie cried out in anguish. “Mmmmmmmmm! Mmmmmmmmmmm!”

  “I can do this all day, pequita,” Diego told her, amused at her suffering. “Just be a good girl and spread your legs and I’ll let go.”

  With great effort, Marjorie was able to move her right knee a couple of inches from her left. She then moved her left a few inches more apart. And then, with a huge sob, realizing that her pudenda would be bared to the man’s hostile intents, she spread them apart some more. The cruel man finally let go of her sore and aching nipples. “That’s the way, my little puta, spread them wide,” he said in his gruff, fear inducing voice. He placed his hands on the insides of the distraught woman’s thighs and pulled them farther apart until her tingling sex was fully exposed. He placed his right hand over it and traced a thick, long finger along the crevasse between her love lips.

  “She’s already wet!” he announced to his friends. His finger slid along the woman’s cleft easily, gathering her moisture as it went and then rubbing it over her bud of pleasure. Marjorie shuddered when she felt it, mortified that the man had discovered her humiliating secret. She had been holding her own, even through her bindings and the mouthing of the tips of her firm, heavy mounds. But now that she realized that she was about to be invaded, the flood gates broke open.

  Marjorie started to sob as if there were no tomorrow, which, after all as far as she was concerned, there might not be. Her chest heaved with the force of her bellows of misery and water flowed like rivulets from her eyes. Diego paid it no mind. She could cry all she wanted. He knew that she needed to get it out of her system. Taking in the view of her sparsely covered sex, he reveled in its sight. He had been going to fuck her later, properly, but he was too far gone now. The soft, inviting cleft, its lips puffy and engorged, was framed by the drooping folds of the woman’s skirt on each side, like an actor on a stage. “A pretty picture!” he exclaimed to himself as he wormed his digit deeply inside. Her flesh was soft and warm and his cock twitched in its yearning to be enveloped in it. But he wanted the bitch to be hotter, squirming in her need for his cock.

  He leaned over and recommenced the mouthing of her mammaries while his hot, strong hand continued to explore Margie’s cunt. He pressed his body forwards, forcing Margie back on her heels and bound wrists. She could feel the edges of the bottoms of her sandals digging into her rear cheeks. Moaning futile pleas, she felt her lusts grow higher as the man’s efforts enflamed them. When the man flicked his thumb over her hardened clit, she moaned with misery and passion. She didn’t want this, didn’t want it at all, but her body disobediently obeyed the commands of the man’s hand and mouth.

  When the girl’s snatch was fully loose and soft, Diego decided that it was time. With his mouth still affixed to one of the woman’s delicious teats, he freed his long, thick cock from its dark environs and, moving forward between the woman’s extended thighs, brushed its tip along the welcoming crevasse. The woman reacted with a start and an intensification of her muffled moans and pleas. She tried to deny him entrance by forcing her thighs together, but his knees were now in the way and all she did was further stimulate his excitement by the pressure of her legs.

  “Here comes my cock, conchita,” Diego told her. “It’s hard and hot and wants a new home. I think you’ll like it,” he told her. “All the little putas do.”

  The hardened bandit pushed his hips forward driving his cock between the thick, engorged lips of Margie’s labia and slowly began to slide inside her. She could feel her walls being guided apart by its thickness. Her thighs shivered and her stomach quailed as she realized that she had been penetrated. She had sworn her pussy’s fealty to her new husband less than two weeks ago and had promised that no other human being would ever again delve into her soft, gentle interior but him. And here she was, about to be impaled by this bandit’s prick and her slutty quim was welcoming it like a two dollar whore to a sailor. She struggled futilely at her bindings and cried out mournfully as it sank deeper and deeper within her. Her thighs were forced wider and wider apart by the man’s and her wrists and ankles ached as the pressure of her body on them increased in direct proportion to the man’s advance into her depths.

  When he had pierced her to her hilt, the man began a slow, deliberate sawing of his steel hard meat across her inner flesh. Margie felt her lust building against her will. Thoughts of her forlorn fate passed into a far corner of her mind as it began to focus on her pleasure. The mouth returned to her nipples, biting and licking them as the thick, solid wand continued its nefarious work inside her.

  “Ohhhhhhhhhh!” Margie moaned in misery and delight. “Ohhhhhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!”

  Diego was pleased at the woman’s passionate response to her fucking. “You like my cock, conchita?” he mocked her, freeing his lips momentarily from her tits. “You’re going to get all you want
, my little gringa slut. Your crica and my cock are going to be great friends.”

  Marjorie’s mind only half recorded the import of the man’s insidious promise. But it was enough to cause a wave of despondency and despair to flow through her. And shame. Shame that all it had taken was the man’s cruel mouth on her tits for her pussy to begin to water, all it had taken was a long, thick finger tracing its way along the edges of her cleft for her it to open hungrily.

  But her dismal thoughts quickly faded as her passion began to overcome her. She was going to climax, she knew it. She felt it. It would happen soon. The cock relentlessly tortured her pussy’s walls and brushed along her tingling, electrified clit. Her body began to quake and shudder. She knew the other men were watching her performance with lustful delight, but she could not help herself. And then it happened. She gave an impassioned shout from behind her gagged lips as she felt her pussy begin to contract and convulse. Her hips involuntarily sought to increase the friction of the meat inside her. Her hands twisted and writhed in their confinement. Her breasts ached with the excited blood that filled them.

  “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” she called out as jolt after jolt of pleasure exploded down below. The man’s efforts had accelerated at the clear evidence of the release of her lusts. He gripped her body tightly with his massive arms and pounded his hips against hers and he too came.

  “Aiyeeeeeee!” the man called out, his voice blood curdling. “Fuck me you gringa puta! Ahhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhh!” he yelled as he poured his spunk deep within her.

  The man gave out a low, satisfied groan as his thrusts slowed and then came to a halt. Marjorie was crying dolefully even as she could feel the aftershocks of her climax twitch the muscles of her heated canal. She knew that the man would never let her go now. He had taken too much enjoyment from her body.

  Diego, very satisfied at the reactions of his new whore, let his shrinking cock slide from within the girl’s pussy. “You have a hot pussy, conchita,” he told her as he stroked her dripping slit with his hand. “We’ll have a lot of fun together.”

  Chapter Four

  A Sylvan Interlude

  Margie lay despondently on the floor of the raft as it continued its journey upstream. The man had shoved her to her side when he was done with her and she was content to lie in the sloppy water wallowing in her misery. Diego, refreshed by his coitus with her, was singing some ribald Venezuelan drinking song as he went through her purse. He was pleased to find a large wad of bolivars, about 500,000 worth and a little over 500 dollars in American currency. He showed it to his boys and they all grinned with visions of the liquor and pussy they could buy with it. There was her passport, something that could be sold for a valuable return, lipstick, a wallet with her Americano identification. His eyes widened when she saw that she was a professore. Who would have thought? There was a golden compact case with some fine, pink powder in it, a hair brush, some tampons, a few bars of hotel soap, some perfume and a bunch of other stuff that he saw no value in. He took the soap, the compact, the hairbrush, the perfume and put them back in the pocketbook. He put the money and the passport in the pocket of his pants. He threw the rest overboard.

  It was about three hours after they had left the dock back in Cotabaya when the raft slowed and made a turn to the south. The Rio Ciora was fed by over a hundred jungle streams between it and the Brazilian border. Diego and his friends had been looking for a particular one. When they saw it, all their faces lit up. The policia, even if they did launch a pursuit of them, once they found another boat that is, would have to search each and every stream and river for three hundred miles in order to find them. While they were in the open, there was always the chance that a plane could spot their little craft and give away their location, but now that they were diverting from the main river, the thick canopy of growth that covered the small waterway would protect them.

  The raft chugged another five miles or so up stream before they came to a wide bend in it forming a little lagoon. The stream had left a sandy deposit there perfect for beaching the boat and there was a large clearing before the jungle became thick and overgrown again.

  Margie was lost in her reverie of misery but came to attention when she felt the raft bump against the shore. Wherever they were going, they were there.

  A good bandit always had more than one hideout. You never knew when and where you would need to duck away from pursuers and this was one of Diego’s. Pepe and Diego, respectfully referred to by his men as el Jefe, jumped from the raft and pulled it onto the beach while Manuelo lifted the outboard up and locked it in place. The clearing looked innocuous enough. Anyone coming by, and that would have been once in every ten years or so, would have seen no evidence that this was one of Diego’s camp sites, other than, perhaps, if they looked closely enough, the charred remains of a fire.

  While Manuelo pulled the boat further up on the shore, Pepe and Diego trotted off into the jungle to make sure that their stash had been undiscovered and remained unplundered. About a hundred yards in they found a tree that they had marked and then paced off ten steps due south. Using sticks they found on the ground, they pawed at the earth until they heard the distinct sound of hitting metal. They looked at each other joyfully. A few minutes later, they had uncovered a large, rusted, steel footlocker and dragged it from its hole. Diego opened it and smiled when he saw that their supplies were still there.

  Now bandits aren’t known for conserving resources or delaying gratification, but the clever Diego had insisted that they stock the footlocker with some of the necessities of life. Inside were cans of food, sleeping bags, two small, two man tents, a few bottles of brandy, machetes, a large, black pot with a burnt bottom, matches, a lantern and other useful miscellanea, even some cigarettes. They would be able to eat and sleep and plan for their next move in relative comfort.

  Margie had struggled to her knees so that she could see where they had landed. There was nothing that she saw that gave her any hope that her plight would soon be alleviated. She watched while Diego and Pepe emerged from the trees with the large footlocker dangling from its handles between them. They put it down and her captor barked some orders to his men who proceeded to break out the supplies and make camp. She trembled when she saw the large, cruel man come back to the raft. He unceremoniously pushed her over to her side and released her ankles from her wrists and then untied them.

  “Come on conchita,” he said. “Come and see your new home.”

  The unhappy woman trembled as he frog marched her to the middle of the camp site. He pushed her to her knees and then went on with the business of settling in. He opened one of the bottles of the local, 150 proof brandy and took a long swig. “Ahhhhhhh!” he exclaimed when he had swallowed it. It was great to be alive and on the game again. A day of rest and then, well, who knows? He had a score to settle with the gringa first. She had scratched his face and drawn blood. He would make sure in a moment that she would never do it again.

  While his compadres made up the tent and started a fire, he wandered over to the edge of the clearing looking for a suitable tree. He found one with a branch about seven feet off of the ground. This would do nicely. He went back to the unhappy woman and ordered her to her feet. Her free and naked breasts swayed enticingly as she struggled to stand. The hem of her skirt was still tucked into her waistband displaying her long, thin thighs and her furry, blond sex and his cock swelled at the thought of piercing her there. Well, that could wait.

  Marjorie was relieved when the man released her arms from behind her but was disconcerted when she learned that he was doing so only in order to tie them together again in front. The man took hold of the long, loose end of the fabric which bound her wrists together and began to lead her away from the campsite. When they reached the edge, next to a bushy tree, she whined miserably as the man tied her hands up over her head to one of the branches. It was high enough so that her arms were fully extended but her feet were still planted firmly on the ground. She whined again when the man unhooked the c
lasp to her skirt and, releasing it, let the bright, orange, red, green and blue fabric fall to the ground.

  The unhappy, now nude woman trembled in fear as the man crouched down before her and slipped her skirt past her feet. She stood there now clothed only in her yellow, Italian, cork heeled sandals. Her helpless hands were extended above her head and her long, blond, now unruly and tangled hair fell down over her shoulders. The fact of being now so fully nude made her tremble at her vulnerability and seemed incongruous in this rough, outdoor setting. Her heavy breasts swayed gently and their dark, pointed tips seemed to be an invitation to abuse. She rubbed her thighs together as if to hide her vulnerable sex. The man was looking at her, admiring her, taking pride in his newly acquired property.

  She wasn’t sure why he had brought her to this spot and posed her so, but she could take a good guess. He was going to whip her! She just knew it! Her tears had stopped not long after her ravishment, but now they renewed. The orange cloth was still wrapped around her face, gagging her mouth, trapping her reddish, blond hair against her head, and she was only able to utter a plaintive, low, whiney, ‘…..ease!” from her lips.

  The bandit smiled and turned away from her. While he strolled leisurely back to the camp site, Margie desperately struggled at her bonds. If she could get herself free, she could run off into the jungle, naked or not. At least she still had her shoes on. Maybe she would be eaten by a lion or a panther or something, maybe she would sink into quicksand or get irretrievably lost until she died of thirst and hunger. But it was better then being this heinous man’s prisoner.