Chapter 5
The day was purgatory. The attractive teen had spent her time
bent over the wash and rinse tubs and carried wood to feed the
fire for heating the wash water. All the while she and Maria had
to fight off the unwelcome advances of Conquistador, the large
black mastiff mix. His cold wet nose seemed to be everywhere to
her embarrassment, but amusement of everyone else. While Maria
seemed moved at all by the dogs advances, Rachel burned with
shame at the thought that his interest was fueled by the musky
smell of the guilty secretions of her drooling vagina.
The old man had introduced her to his son, Tahio, he was her age
but a near retard of hulking proportions for an oriental
teenager. Taller than the Padre, but not as heavily built due to
his youth. The dumb slack jawed look of the teenager, was
accentuated by the drool that seemed to perpetually wet his chin.
Rachel felt profound sympathy for the boy, as he was worked like
a dog by his father. His barefoot hulking form shuffling about
from one task to another. Once in a gush of sympathy, the
thought had entered her mind in that under different
circumstances she....but she caught herself in disgust having to
turn away as the youth grinned at her, his tongue probing at a
string of green snot that cascaded from his left nostril.
My god, she thought, what has my father gotten me into.
Forgotten for an instant were the noble and charitable reasons
for her being here. She lost herself in a torrent of self pity.
Broken down under the heat and filth of the day, she suddenly
fought back tears. The memory to her carnal display and the
betrayal by her body was fresh in her mind.
"Our father who art in heaven...." she prayed under her breath,
trying to fight back the rush of pity, disgust, and filthy
thoughts that fought for her attention. The buzz of her clit and
the continuous burning in her breasts and nipples was fought back
when she pinched herself fiercely on the inner thigh. She kept
from drowning in self pity by looking at Maria her workmate.
Maria was a mestizo, or Castilian indian mix. She was older than
Rachel in her early 20's and was very attractive. Her thick
black hair accented her flawless light brown skin and was worn
similarly to Rachel's, pulled back in defense of the pervasive
heat.
She was full breasted for an indian with large and dark aureoles
and nipples typical for her skin coloring. Rachel noticed that
she had what the men crudely referred to as "la colon grande",
the large ass typical of most indian women. The young woman
carried herself as if beaten down, standing in her dirty bare
feet, her true height obscured by the down trodden posture she
maintained. Rachel saw that she never lifted her eyes to the old
man and did as she was told. The girl wore the typical loose
fitting native garb; a rude calf length dress of loose weave
off-white cotton, held close at the waist by a rope or belt. The
front 3/4 of the dress held closed by wooden buttons.
Rachel had realized early that it was cooler and more practical
than the close fitting blouse and she wore. The old man had
given a similar dress to wear, which she had donned to replace
her ruined blouse and shorts which had become a filthy mixture of
powdered soap, soot and dirt. She found that the dress was not
so transparent when wet from her time at the wash tub. The two
young women did not talk, but only conversed as their tasks
demanded.
During the day Rachel caught glances several livid welts across
the top of her ample breasts and the glint of light on metal
before the young woman changed position or pulled her blouse
closed. Her movements were always accompanied by metallic
tinkling of what sounded like little bells.
As she bent over the wash basin arms in the water up to her
elbows, time seemed to pass as in fog of boredom and humidity.
As her thoughts wandered her peripheral vision caught movement
behind her. The dog, she told herself, and prepared for the
inevitable assault with a wet nose. Rachel froze as she felt the
hem of her dress lift and fleeting touch of something against her
inner thigh. Simultaneously she felt something push her in the
upper back causing her to have to catch the other side of the
wooden basin to keep her balance. Jerking her head to the left
and over her shoulder she was met by the leering grin of the old
man standing at her left hip. His left hand was firmly planted
in the middle of her upper back clenching a fist full of her
cotton dress. His right hand was busy beneath the lower hem of
her dress, his bony fingers worming like a blade between her firm
thighs. Rachel was too off balance to offer much resistance, her
upper body hanging over the water filled basin, her hands
clutching the far side, the near side cutting into her narrow
hips. Fighting to regain her balance she moved her feet, this
only allowed the old man greater access to her inviting crotch.
Rachel's mind reeled as she looked to the left in Maria's
direction only to see her disappearing into the rear of the shop.
Fighting the increasing pressure against her back, she felt the
old man's bonny fingers digging through the thin blonde curls
fringing her labia. The plump soft lips of her outer labia were
no match for the insistent probing. She looked to the right with
a frightened and questioning look only to to get a silently evil
grin that exposed the man's rotting teeth.
"You have been wanting this, senorita, hei?" he hissed, his
rancid breath assaulting her delicate nostrils. "You are wet
like del rio, how you say, like a river", he said with a laugh.
No response was necessary as his fingers slid easily into the
tight wet pit of her cunt, its dripping lips announcing her
guilty but wordless reply. Rachel wanted to die, the guilt of
her feelings burned into her chest, driving the breath from her
lungs, her mind a swirl of conflicting life long beliefs and
desires. Her mouth moved soundlessly like a waterless fish,
small hands clutching whitely at the basin side. Surrendering,
she closed her eyes as his fingers probed the fleshy end of her
cervix, his thumb strumming the rising nub of her clit! . The
beautiful teens body betrayed her as she felt her hips rock as
her trim ass raised as she slightly opened her thighs to allow
the stinking old man greater access to her, increasing her
masochistic shame. His dirty fingers were now exploring the wet
confines of her most secret parts, round and round they ran
teasing her cervix as it stood like a lonely obelisk. His thumb
mashed against the thick stub of the attractive teens engorged
clit. At the same instant she jerked as she felt something cold
against the back of her leg. In an instance she knew!
"Conquistador likes your wet little pussy too senorita", the old
man said with a cackle.
She looked around in time to see the large tongue of the animal
make a long swath through the oily liquid coating the old man's
hand and her crotch. Her heart raced as she felt a hardness
against her hip through the old man's filthy pantaloons. The
slut in her marveled at the size and hardness of his hidden
member which seemed to surge with each new indignity she
suffered. The prim voice in her shamed her, when she caught the
slut in her wondering what it looked like, and to her thrilling
disgust, what it might taste like....!
She tried to pray, to find a reason for her martyrdom, but she
found it too nasty, too horribly thrilling to concentrate on
virtuous thoughts. Seeming that god wasn't pleased with the
level of her degradation and humiliation, she felt hands on the
side of her face holding her firmly to the front. Opening her
big blue eyes she saw the imbicilic face of Tahio, the hulking
retard. As she whimpered he held her as he moved the stained
front of his pantaloons even with her face. As he shuffled
forward she saw the outline and caught glimpses of the log of his
cock through a tear in the fabric. Standing in front of her he
grasped her by her blond pony tail and thrust her face into his
groin.
The beautiful girl felt a surge of masochistic delight as her
nose brushed against the hardness of his rod through the rent in
the fabric. His bristly pubs scratched her nose and cheek, as
she caught her breath her delicate nostrils were assailed by the
stink and filth of his unwashed privates. A wave of goose flesh
rose across her back and arms at the delightful dirtiness of it,
the image of her mother and father flashed through her mind, if
only they could see me now a little voice cried out!
The attractive teen's soul burned as she felt her cunt contract
uncontrollably at the repulsive touch of the boys organ. She
knew the old man could feel her guilty response around his
dripping fingers. He knew her inner secret. In a mind searing
flash, Rachel realized what she had known secretly all along.
Her life as a prim and proper church going deb, was a sham. Just
as sure as the facade of her happy family had collapse amid a
storm of adultery and betrayal, the lie of her true nature was
being revealed by these filthy peasants. The lily white personae
she portrayed was as hollow as her empty begging cunt. Here she
stood, a depraved strangers hand probing her cunt, relishing the
feel of a strange cock against her face, her body betraying her,
responding with masochistic delight to the humiliating and
degrading treatment at the hands of strangers.
She knew now there was no god. There was no right and wrong, no
afterlife, only the here and now, only the cravings of the flesh,
only the inflamed and gnawing need between her legs. Her brain
the center of her intellect, seat of what she called her soul,
repository of her eternal salvation, had surrendered control of
her life to the half-inch long bundle of nerves of her clit. The
thick blood engorged little bishop, sang like a choir with each
touch of the old man's calloused thumb. Like a tiny alien
possessing her body, it now controlled her every craving. Red
and swollen from the incessant attention it coaxed her, with wave
after wave of guilty pleasure, deeper into the mire and filth of
her sexual depravity. Her mind was a willing accomplice as it
thrilled to the forbidden acts she willingly allowed others to
perform on her virginal body. Her skin burned with the guilt and
anticipation, the shame and pleasure of being used like a whore!
Now she needed no coaxing as she pushed her face into the boy's
stinking crotch, seeking out the hard tube of his cock. She
thrilled to the feel of it against her lips, her little pink
tongue thrusting out in desperate pursuit of just a taste of the
sinful object of her lust. The vile tool of rapine and
degradation of so many women through history, but holy enough to
be the instrument of god's covenant with the Jew's. Her mind
reeled, that was it, it would be the instrument of a new
covenant, between her and her new god, the god of her flesh. She
would sacrifice all to satiate her god and to please her. Her
life would be cocks, hard, swollen spurting cocks. It was her
destiny to service them to please her god, to make them hard and
swollen, to coax them to give up their rich hot creamy offering
to her god. She would please them every way she could, with her
tits, cunt, ass and mouth. Her life would be a long ride of
thrusting, rubbing, sucking and spurting cocks!
She felt her legs being swept apart by the old man's hips, as he
raised her dress. His hand gone, the cry of emptiness from her
stretched and drooling cunt was was about to be answered. The
boy pulled aside the buttonless fly of his pantaloons to free the
thick vein choked length of his cock. Rachel nuzzled the length
of it against her cheek, drawing back as the boy leveled it with
her mouth. He skinned back the delicate foreskin, revealing his
encrusted purple glans.
