A Maiden Gamble
by Sydney Michelle    © Omphale Press, 2001

Part XII

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

The deliveryman bumped the crate as he worked it through the door into the common room of the apartment. "Imbecile! Do you destroy everything you touch? The contents are fragile, the walls are not made of steel. Be careful, you oaf!"

"Si, Don Colorado. The crate is strong. The company will send a painter if there are scratches. Should I move the crate to the bedroom?"

Don Miguel Colorado waved impatiently. "No, you might do more damage. Just set it in the middle of the room." Don Miguel signed the receipt, waving the man out the door as Hector sat by the window, foot tapping impatiently.

The door closed and Hector Schwartz rose. "Let's get to it. Let's see if what we bought is as good as it looked. For that money, it had better be."

"Always the impatient one, Hector. The tools are in the bedroom."

Miguel slid the crate under the light while waiting for Hector to return. Was this truly a beautiful blonde gringa? Ready and willing to service our NAFTA clients? And serve us as well?

Hector returned carrying a pry bar, power drill with screw bits, and two claw hammers. He inserted the flat end and started to apply pressure.

"You're an excellent finance man, Hector, but I'll never understand why someone so careful with numbers never reads the instructions on anything mechanical."

Hector shrugged. "I suppose I always thought I could figure it out."

"Si, quite likely. But we don't want to damage the contents, and they have provided an instruction sheet."

"An instruction sheet for a whore? I think we both know what to do, Miguel."

"Once she is uncrated. But it appears the screwdriver will be more useful than the bar. Besides, we wouldn't want her complaining of splinters before we got any use from her."

Following the diagram, the screws rapidly backed out of the wood, the sides dropping away to reveal the foam packing. It took but a moment to reveal Maria, naked, face down in her bonds.

"There is a box."

"Let's see. Oh yes. 'Personal items.' Set that aside."

"Let's see what's inside."

"No, set it on the dresser while I get her loose."

She felt webbing loosen, slip over her body before fingers tightened in her hair, pulling her head back. She was lifted and stretched back, bound hands under her haunches as her bush was examined by her new owners.

"A true blonde, as advertised. Satisfactory."

A hand cupped one breast, squeezed its nipple, then the other. "Feels real. No surgery signs. I wonder how they did that?"

"The miracle of modern medicine, I suppose. But she still has a hose."

"We knew that. It's how she uses her holes that will please our contacts. And then there's Paulina, that weird e-com customer exec from Santa Barbara. This ought to make her very happy. Tits to suck and a prong to straddle, both at the same time. If this gets us better service on our maintenance requests, she'll be worth it."

Maria was so exhausted she could not cry. I'm just a piece of meat! A hole and hose to be handed to whoever or whatever they please. No Pretty Woman here!

The tall, slender brown eyed brunette smiled at her prostrate form. "The instructions say she is plugged. We'd better get that out. And get her cleaned up. She smells of kerosene."

Hector sniffed. "Avgas. Hazard of private couriers. Her legs are still locked down."

Miguel unsnapped the clasps, swung the board off her ankles. The thigh clamps loosened, he pulled Maria up by her curls, his arm slipping around her torso just below her breasts. Nice botas. Too bad there's no hole under the bush.

Hector and Miguel helped Maria to the bath, her legs unsteady from the cramped position during the flight. They sat her on the tub, scrubbing her body with warm hand towels. As Miguel rubbed between her cheeks, he felt the blunt end of the plug. He turned the thick four inch plug in the light, marveling at the sheen of Maria's dampness on the plastic. "Obviously she won't have to be broken in back here."

Hector, busied himself with soaping and cleaning the pert breasts. "But she doesn't seem very excited at meeting us."

"You be bent over and boxed up for several hours, and you'd be less than fully functioning, too. Do you need something, senorita?"

"Agua, por favor."

"Pardon, senorita. How stupid of me. Of course you must be thirsty." Miguel brought her a glass of water, which she swallowed greedily, as if the cotton in her mouth would wash down with it.

Maria smiled up at the handsome brunette. "Gracias, mi patron."

"Nombre?"

Maria turned her eyes to Hector. "My mistress called me Maria, mi patron. But I will answer to whatever you choose to call me."

"Maria. A fallen angel. Let's keep it, Miguel."

"Agreed. But she will need more than that for her identity papers. We will work that out tomorrow. You can type, Maria?"

Maria nodded. "Non rapidamente. Y en el anglais. I'm not literate en el espanol."

"You will learn. But you will help with our international correspondence. We understand you are a size eight, American, Maria?"

"Si, senor."

"Bueno, senorita. The clothes in the closet will fit well enough. Tomorrow we can get you clothes that will show off the firm's newest asset. In the office and out. Your hair is not bleached? Or permed?"

"No, senor."

"Bueno, Maria. Less maintenance. Rosario's will keep it stylish even as your hair grows. We expect you to be beautifully coiffed at all times. Full and up as soon as possible."

Maria's heart pumped harder, realizing that even though a slave, she would be pampered and preened, maintained as a prize trophy to be shown off. She wondered how much she would look the slut, how much the lady. Her owners would want her desirable, attainable, but not trashy to be picked up and discarded by every casual visitor. Updos? Mantillas? Lace over a beating bosom?

"Do you take any medications, senorita?"

"My physician sent a ninety day supply of, of pills. To help me maintain my figure. Other than that, no."

"Good. There is a professor Garcia with the University who has a private practice. Very discrete. But it may take a month to get you an appointment with her."

"She knows how to treat my, uh, feminine problems? And regulate my hormones?"

Miguel smiled. "Her post-graduate work was at Stanford. She is a diplomat in both the gynecological and reproductive fields. She has seen and done virtually everything, male or female. And can get a second opinion from virtually any medical center in the world if she needs it. She will take good care of your needs for us, senorita, never fear."

Maria brought their hands to her cheeks. "Gracias, mil gracias mis patrons. Su esclavo es complacido muy."

Hector brought her a thin robe, a shimmering azure silk. "Put this on and return to the common room, muchacha."

Maria stood, slipping her arms through the holes, wrapping the cord around her waist. She adjusted the top carefully, covering her nipples but leaving the swell of her breasts showing. They paid for the merchandise. They might as well enjoy the view. "Is there makeup, Senores? I feel naked without my face on."

Hector guffawed. Miguel indicated the vanity. "There are a few things in the drawer."

Maria turned, found a tube of ruby lipstick, bent close to the mirror to apply a light coat. She felt the fine material pull over her ass cheeks, filling the crack. In the mirror she saw both her masters eye the firm roundness. She capped the lipstick, applied a couple of dabs of perfume, walked unsteadily through the door, long hips swaying under the filmy material.

Hector leaned over to whisper to his partner, "If those feel as warm as her breasts, I will enjoy replacing that plug."

Miguel smiled. The swaying silk did promise a pleasurable ride. "We will have to decide who has the first pleasure."

Hector wet his lips. "I would want her all night. Lucia is up in Houston for the week."

When the men entered the room, Maria was seated at the small marble table by the window, her glass refilled. The soft reflected light from the window spilled across her body, deepening the shadow between her breasts, enhancing the perception of their fullness.

"Do you smoke, senorita?"

"No, senor. It is not healthy. Or good for my teeth."

"Very good. Can you cook?"

"Si, senor. Un pacquito. But I am not very familiar with Mexican cooking."

"La cocina ranchera, muchacha? We just need to know if you need a servant. And when someone is with you, you can provide for all his needs."

Maria looked at the thinning Hector, broad, starting to jowl. That one will be satisfied with a meal, a massage and maybe a hand job. Maria shuddered. To be owned by that one!

Maria forced herself to smile. "With a cookbook containing your favorite dishes, I could learn. A good meal, a fine wine, gracefully served to please you." And a sleeping pill in the wine to knock you out.

"Ah, muchacha! I'm beginning to believe you may have been right to have us buy her, Miguel. But the proof is in the pudding, eh, muchacha?" He leaned over and stroked her breast with the backs of his fingers. "Cooking in la cocina con Maria, eh, Miguel?"

His finger slipped under the silk to pluck the nipple like the thinnest string of a guitar. Maria inhaled despite herself. He is skilled, even if he doesn't look it!

"But to business, Miguel. Which of us will test her first? Flip for her? Paper, scissors, rock? Odds and evens?"

"We could let the lady decide." Miguel smiled into Maria's blue eyes.

"She is ours, not we, hers. Come, man, choose your weapon."

People who help people are good people, I'm helping people. I'm a good person. "Por favor, mis patrons, but does the house have a deck of cards?"

Miguel nodded. "We thought you might pass the time with Old Sol til you begin work."

"Do you prefer high card, or a hand of poker?" Maria smiled at Miguel. To be with the handsome one. You will not regret it, Don Miguel.

"What would you suggest, senorita?"

"High card, the gentleman's gamble."

"High card it is. Bring the deck, Hector."

Hector ambled into the bedroom, searching for the cards. Maria smiled at Miguel, stroking his hand with polished fingertips. "If you let me cut for you, Don Miguel, we will not regret it."

Miguel's eyes glistened as he nodded agreement. "Where did we put them, Miguel?"

"In the night stand." Miguel squeezed Maria's hands. "Do you feel up to this?"

"With a little rest, if you can be so patient, and I will try my best to make you very pleased with me." Hector returned, unwrapping the fresh deck. "Here. Let me."

Maria fanned the cards, displaying the full set. Expertly she withdrew the jokers, flipping and spreading the cards rapidly. In the process, her nail nicked the Ace of Hearts ever so slightly in the side.

"You seem to know what you are doing, muchacha."

Maria smiled into Hector's black eyes. "Not so much. That's how I got into this predicament, paying off a marker." Not entirely untrue.

She shuffled and trued the deck, placing it before Hector. "Would you like to cut, Senor? Or make your choice?"

Hector wiped his lips, reached out, felt the deck. He looked at Maria's smiling face, inhaled, exposed a card. "Knave of Spades! Looks like my drill gets lubed tonight."

"Perhaps." Maria gathered the cards, turned and fanned the deck. "All here?" Both men nodded. She gathered the deck, shuffled, squared it, making sure the nick was to her right, presented the cards to Miguel. "Senor?"

"If the lady would be so kind."

Maria gracefully extended her arched fingers, grasping the deck lightly, nail lifting under the nick. "Ready?" Hector nodded. Maria turned the section, exposing the red Ace. "Another night, Senor? Tonight, Hearts reign."

Hector rose, bowed stiffly. "Enjoy yourselves." He turned on his heel and left.

Miguel took her hand, raised it to kiss the back gently. "Gracias, senorita."

"I have not made an enemy, have I? I wouldn't want to displease mi patron so easily."

"Hector's no fool. I suspect he suspects that you rigged the draw. But he will get over it. After all, he will be with you another time."

Maria rose, moved around the table, slipped her arms around Miguel's neck. "But I wanted to be with you tonight."

"Why?"

"Because you showed me some respect. And asked about my needs. Don Hector just saw money spent. I know I am yours to do with as you wish, but your gentleness makes me want to give it to you, not yield it."

Miguel's arms settled around her waist, pulling her too him. His lips covered hers, demanding an entrance willingly given. He felt her breasts against him, warm and soft becoming taut and hard. Maria pulled back, fingers stroking his tie, fumbling with the knot.

"Miguel?"

"Si?"

"Take me to the bedroom."

An arm swept behind her knees, lifting her into his arms. Maria cradled her head against his shoulder as he carried her through the door, laid her on the conjugal bed. He stood and Maria reached for his belt, opened and dropped his pants. The rod peaked through the crack of his boxers, the head engorged but not full. Maria's fingers slipped down the cloth, reached inside to grasp the base, draw it toward her.

"I thought you were tired?"

"I am. But a woman can pleasure her man once before she sleeps."

Maria lay back on the bed, head over the edge, her fingers surrounding the growing prod. "Magnifico!" she whispered.

Her lips grazed the underside of the glans, warmly teasing the hardening underside. Miguel moaned above her, his hips thrusting slowly forward. Her fingers rippled over the shaft, her palm cupped his heavy balls. She smelt his ardor as his rod bucked, quivered, heaved. White, viscous fluid shot out, splashing on her neck as he came, spurting helplessly in her grasp.

"Madre de Dios, usted es muy bueno. Por que?" Miguel slumped against the bed, struggling feebly to shuck his clothes.

Maria sat up, untying his tie, unbuttoning his shirt. "Because it pleases me to please you. Por favor, Miguel, may I clean up?"

Miguel slumped back against the bed. "Of course. And bring a towel for me."

Maria slipped into the bath, wet a hand towel and wiped the cum from her body. A thick clump rested on the cloth and she could not resist a taste. Salty. Yeasty. Powerful, A real man.

Maria brought two face towels back with her, cleaning Miguel's groin before helping him into bed, slipping between the tightly woven sheets. She placed the other on the night table as she rolled on her side, presenting her derriere to her master. He snuggled up to her, burying his nose in her nape, his arm lying along her flank. "Gracias, mi bonita, mi linda senorita." His breath came warm and regular on her nape as she slipped into slumber. The last words she heard mumbled were, "Gracias, Olga, cherie, gracias."

 

§§

 

Maria awoke in a darkening room, dimly aware of a hand cupping her breast. She stirred, becoming aware of the warmth behind her. "You are awake, my pretty dove?"

Maria half rolled, eyes lidded,. "Uhm. Barely, master."

"Don't call me that."

"Why? You do own me. I am your slave for the next five years."

"But it makes what you did feel bought, cheap. You did want to pleasure me, didn't you?"

Maria rolled over, snuggling her nose into his chest. "Very much." Her hand slipped down over his belly, pausing to stroke the flatness, then moving to scratch through his brush. His wand was thick, semi-erect.

"You were not pleased, Don Miguel?"

"It has been three hours, my pretty dove. Long enough for me to recharge."

Maria kissed a nipple, swirling her tongue over the erect teat. "Then this woman must please her man again."

Maria kissed the teat, then fluttered her tongue down his body, sliding and scrunching beneath the sheets until her mouth tasted his warmth. Carefully she drew her chin through his bush, along the top of his hardening rod. Her mouth covered the thickness, a full two inches in diameter. If he sticks that in me, I'll die!

His fingers slipped among her curls as she engulfed the tip of his popsicle, her tongue laving the tender meat. Rapidly he grew in her mouth, ever thicker, longer, firmer. She drew him erect, her mouth covering the head, tongue swirling over the tip. His finger dug into her curls and shoulder, he moaned as his hips began to move upward. His knees drew up, he began to quiver. Maria cupped his ball sac, felt it grow in her hand, then surge, sending his cum shooting through his pipe. The first spurts splashed against Maria's throat before she was able to reposition, sucking the base of his shaft to encourage the hot cum to empty from his sac.

Maria sat up, eyes sparkling as he sheet fell from her shoulders. She bent across him, reaching for the towel to clean up the wet mess. "Did I please you, my love?"

Miguel lay back, face flushed, eyes closed. "Yes, oh yes, my pretty dove. Why do you like sucking me so?"

Maria stretched out on him, her small, hard prick carefully positioned away from him. "I have to use what I have to pleasure you, my love. My mistress trained me to give pleasure with my mouth. So I use what skill I have to please you."

"It does not bother you to go down on a man?"

"It is my fate. I have been trained to accept it. I could wish that I were a virginal girl, trembling with anticipation and desire." Maria shrugged. "It does not bother you to have me lick you?"

"You are not really a man." Not a woman either. I'm beginning to wish. "Not now, but how can I pleasure you?"

"It feels good when my clit is stroked. I can be brought to a climax by it. And I can let you use me from behind."

"In your bung hole? I couldn't."

"You are married?"

"Happily. To Olga Isabella, the mother of my child."

"When she was pregnant, did you ever make love to her from behind? So the baby would not bear your weight?"

"A few times. On her knees, reaching around."

"Then think of me as pregnant, filling a convenient hole while you play with my clit."

"Perhaps."

Maria rubbed down his thatch, sopping up the last of his cum. "There. All tidy. Now, my love, let me snuggle close to my lover and enjoy the closeness of him."

Her round hips nestled in the curve of his loins, the tight crack between the firm ripeness settling against his member. He reached around, feeling her hard nipple beneath his finger tips. She is almost a woman. A man could do worse for a mistress. Perhaps Teresa Garcia could remove a small imperfection? "You are excited, my dove?"

Maria nodded. "My future is no longer uncertain. My man is pleased with how I serve him. I will be kept beautifully, groomed, dressed, fed, cared for. Yes, I am ready for my man."

Miguel lay quietly behind her, soaking up her warmth, her softness, her smell. He moved softly against her, feeling her soft rump smoothly fit against him. Amazed, he felt his prod twitch, grow. Not hard, not even soft, but responding to the nearness of her. Softly he nuzzled her nape, stroked her breast, aware of her obvious arousal. His hand moved down over her abdomen. He was pleased to hear her moan in response. Sweet surrender! Given, not taken. Anxious to please, not resigned, no mere accepting of fate. A man should satisfy his woman however he can.

Miguel began to kiss her nape, moving up to her ear, tonguing the pierced lobe, feeling the bitter hardness of her stud. Maria moaned and writhed slowly in his grasp. Oh God! If he doesn't put it in me, I'll die! Slowly he kissed, tongued, his hand stroking her flank, feeling the warmth of her hip. Slowly he felt his prod re-inflate, growing to press against her crack. His fingers played with her soft curls, releasing the heat trapped against her nape. He felt the warmth of her skin grow, knowing it glowed with arousal.

Miguel rolled over slightly, his weight pressing against her hip. Maria rolled forward, drawing her top leg forward. "Yes, oh, yes, Miguel! I'm yours. Take me please, Dearest!"

Miguel's hard-on grew, now semi-hard, not yet firm enough to penetrate. He stroked the hip ridge, reaching around, searching for the cleft beneath the damp bush. His fingers touched the throbbing penis, and he hesitated, shocked at what he was about to do. But Maria's frustrated moans drove him on, her whimpers of lust growing beneath him. He rolled back, reached over to pull her up into position.

Joyfully, crying, Maria lifted her hips, slid her knees under her, relaxed her rumps to receive her lover. She buried her face into the sheets, pulling the pillow against her, pressing her breasts into the soft warmth. For this blessing we are about to receive, make us truly thankful!

Miguel rose to his knees, moving into position. One hand on her hips, the other grasped the base of his now stiff rod. He slipped the head over her crack, reaching to spread her cheeks.

"Let me help you, my darling." Maria reached back, pulling apart her rumps, spreading her knees to open herself to the waiting rod. "Take me, Darling, make me know I am your woman."

Miguel steadied the tip against the puckered ring, distended to receive him. Looking down her back, he reached forward, pulling back, pulling the tightness onto his shaft, feeling it resist, stretch, yield to his penetration. He shoved forward, driving home, his hips tight against hers. "Yes! Oh, my God, Yes! Big! Good! Fu-u-ck me!"

Miguel rocked forward, feeling Maria rock back. He sawed in and out, her body moving in response. He reached around, fingering her "clit," feeling it pulse under his touch. He thrust, bending closer to mate with her. She braced to bear his weight, loving his touch, the fullness of him. "God! Good!"

Miguel rocked back, withdrawing, Maria pushed back, trying to capture the fullness, then pulled forward and pushed back to receive his thrust. The fullness behind her sphincter pushed against her gland, the squeezing of her penal clit milked her. She felt the first shudder ripple through her, the first uncontrolled shudder of her hips shake against him.

"Miguel! I'm, I'm cu-um-ming!" Maria shuddered, pushed back, her open mouth gasping for air. Her body shuddered and quaked, she pressed the pillow hard against her throbbing tits The rocking, sucking motion of her ass, squeezing fervidly against the filling prod, sucked forth a third eruption, hot, splashing cum spurting into her. Maria shuddered, squeezed, rocked as long as she could, seeking to prolong the orgasm, to extract every ounce of pleasure for them But she shuddered one more time, buried her head, flexed open her buns as best she could, felt the slow withdrawal of the subsiding prick. I wish I were woman! Clutch him close and never let him go!

Miguel slumped back, exhausted. Feebly he found the towel, wiping futilely at sweaty buns before settling down beside her prostrate form. "Thank you, thank you, my gentle man, for loving your woman. You did come?"

"Yes, mi paloma, I did."

Maria snuggled against him, breathing deep the odor of his lovemaking. "I'm glad. Really glad. I am content to be your woman."

The two slipped off into slumber, exhausted by the loving. Maria dreamed she walked across a grassy plain, her goods upon a horse, her papoose playing happily on the travois carrying the teepee. Out upon the plain rode her man on a pony with a flowing tail, keeping watch for enemies and game. In an hour they would camp by the water hole, she would prepare a meal over the chips. After they had eaten and she had nursed, she would open herself like the prairie flower to her man. Her warrior, provider, protector, he who had given many ponies for her, taken her to the warm springs in the mountains so only the best of medicines would follow their son.

An hour later, Miguel awoke, the room now dark, the warmth, the gentle snore beside him a comfort, the towel between them damp with his semen that had seeped from her. How long has it been? A year? Olga has been so busy with the baby. She won't give it to the nurse. Next month I must insist we go to the hacienda. If I take a mistress, I must be sure she is taken care of. Miguel stroked the slumbering form beside him, kissed the warm shoulder. Maria stirred, reached back, ran her finger through his hair.

"Mi amor. You're insatiable. Do I need to serve you again?"

"No, my dove. I was just enjoying the nearness of you." He could sense her responding smile. "You are so soft, so warm. One would almost believe you really were . . ."

Maria rolled to him. "What? A woman? Tonight you have made me a woman, your woman, in all but plumbing. Tell me, amado Miguel, what did you and Hector have planned for me when you bought me?"

Miguel lay beside her, silent. "Miguel? Tell me, please. I know I was bought, a slave. But now I am your willing slave, dedicated to pleasing you. You are pleased with me?"

"Of course. I, I just don't like to think of you as a slave."

"Then I am your mistress, your paramour. What were your plans? You two could not have been sure I would be pleasing." Maria traced his breast bone with her finger.

"If you were good, pliable, pleased our customers, we would keep you, use you occasionally. If not . . ."

"If not?"

"There are brothels that could use you, willing or not. That is, if your seller would not give us our money back."

"I am pleasing to you?"

"Beyond my wildest dream."

"Am I beautiful, desirable?"

"Even more in person. How did you get to be so beautiful, graceful?"

"Work. And pain. And good teachers."

"Was it very painful?"

"I thought so then, but it was a good pain. Much as runners get before 'runner high' sets in." Maria looked up at Miguel through her lashes. "And you make it worth it."

"Who taught you?"

"Many people." Why tell him about the sex lessons? "I was finished by a former Miss Venezuela candidate. Only the best instructors at Slaves'4'U."

"A Miss Venezuela? No wonder you move so well. They practically own the Latina pageant business."

"Thank you. Mistress would be pleased you approve of her work."

"What I'm coming to appreciate is you."

Maria blushed lightly, surprised at how pleased his approval made her. "Are you hungry?"

"I am not so appreciative that I'm going down on you."

"No, silly! I'm hungry! You two did stock the kitchen?"

"A little. Just eggs, sausage, bread, cheese, a few cans of soup. Butter and jam."

"A camp. Oh, well, breakfast twenty-four hours a day. How do you like your eggs?"

"Boiled. And deviled."

"You are a devil, but it doesn't sound like the larder is properly stocked for that." Maria tied on the robe, this time drawing the lapels close over her breasts. She bent over and kissed Miguel on the forehead, stroking him behind the ear. "

"Over easy, I suppose."

"One order of eyes on a raft, coming up."

"You will cook for me?"

"A woman must take care of her man, keep his strength up. That spear strength of yours doesn't come from nowhere, you know."

Miguel watched Maria disappear through the door. A woman, her man? Being in her didn't feel much different than being with Olga. Could she really become truly a she?

 

§§

 

Maria toyed with the last of her scrambled eggs, pushing at them with a last bit of toast. "Miguel, mi amor, how did you come by this apartment for me? I mean furnished and stocked and everything."

"We had it for customers and clients who come down for an extended visit. We'll just have to get another now that you're in it."

"And the clothes? And makeup?"

"Hector's secretary bought them. We gave her a list."

"Won't she be suspicious?"

"Suspicious? No. Jealous, maybe. Here many men have a mistress. And many secretaries hope to become one. Not a few have moved into the main house when something has happened to the wife."

Maria sipped her coffee. "Tell me about Olga. You love her?"

"Yes."

"But you can be with me?"

"It's like having children. Having another one does not diminish your love for the first. A man is capable of loving two women at the same time. Of course, it is a little more complicated."

Tell me about it! Especially when one of them isn't. Miguel reached across the table, inserting a hand beneath her robe, rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Maria gasped, flushed.

"You like that?" Miguel smiled, satisfied at her response to his touch.

"From you, very much. God, you turn me on. Look at me cross-eyed and my tail will be in the air for you. Cock your finger and I will be on my knees fumbling at your fly." Maria bent her head, looked up through her lashes. "Did you like being in me?"

Miguel flushed, cleared his throat, looked down into his coffee cup.

"Miguel, mi amor, did you like fucking my pussy?"

Miguel looked up, gathered himself, looked into her eyes. "Yes. I like fucking you very much. God, you buck like a bronco."

"And you ride me como un vaquero verdadero. Your pony has been gentled to your touch and accepts her halter, asking only to be ridden regularly that she may not forget what it is like."

Miguel placed his hand over hers, gently stroking the back. "At least once a week."

"You wouldn't sell me to a brothel then, would you?"

"I don't even want to share you with Hector. And he and I are like this." Miguel held up crossed arms with crossed fingers.

Maria smiled, secure for the first time in months. "Por favor, mi amor, mi patron, teach me what pleases you so it will please you to make me fit to please you as every woman pleases her man."

"You are already very pleasing. What do you mean?"

"I want Donna Garcia to transform me. To cut on me. To give me a cunt and clit."

"You want to become a slit tail?"

"Si, mi patron, mi amor. Your Maria wishes to be able to open her legs to receive you, to wrap her legs around you, to feel your weight on her, to feel you deep in her, to pleasure and be pleasured by you. I am your slave, but if you grant me the favor of becoming a woman, your woman, I will welcome you to my bed, eagerly accept your entrance, greedily drain your sac, treasure your heat held within me. I would be honored to freely be your real woman, your concubine. Not for five years but for time evermore."

Miguel bent forward, cupped her chin in hand. Gently his lips covered hers, tasting her sweetness. "We shall see, Maria. Perhaps it will be so."

"Por favor, mi amor. Soon."

 

Postlogue

 

The honey blonde in silver lame stiletto heels and oozing out of a red backless dress glided across the floor on the arm of her tuxedoed escort. She spotted Jennifer's wave and guided him subtly to the table. As expected, a place card for Maria Elena Argent sat on a charger. She smiled at Bernardo as he slid the chair under her.

"Que vades, Jen? I haven't seen you in almost, what? Four hours?"

Jennifer Teresa Delgado tittered. "But you weren't done when I left Rosario's, Elena. Your hair makes the most beautiful cone. Mine would just collapse. See what Hector gave me." She held out her right hand, a one inch pave ruby ring gracing her ring finger.

Elena placed her fingertips under Jennifer's, cooing admiration for her bauble. "Who else is at our table?"

"Jose's Susana, Frederico's Carmen. The usual gang of mistresses."

Jennifer sneaked a peak in her compact, expertly smoothed a brow line with a fingertip. Elena sipped her champagne. "These charity affairs are so boring. Waiting for our men to finish discussing business, waiting to see if they can slip away, waiting to see whether we sleep warm or alone. I hope I didn't hurt your feelings, Bernardo."

"I am paid not to have feelings, Senorita. You belong to Senor Colorado, and I protect what is his."

His. His property still. Bought and paid for, just in installments. "From his wife or from an open secret becoming public knowledge?"

"Si. Both, if necessary."

"And what do you do at the end of the evening, Bernardo?"

"I go home to my wife and our three little ones."

"And she is not jealous? Even over the smell of my perfume?" Elena leaned against him.

"She knows you are part of my work. She knows I am true to her. And she knows el jefe would have me cut in little pieces if I betrayed him."

"Speaking of el jefe, there he is. Isn't he magnificent?" Miguel strode in with Olga Colorado-Toledo on his arm, aglow in a black sequined straight line gown and gold thread shawl. The purple sash of an evening's honoree cut across his chest as he seated Olga Isabella at the head table.

"Look at that. Her third. I'm glad I'm not going to become a fat cow, dropping sprat and mooing to be milked. The life of a mistress for me. Just pray for no accidents."

"There are fates worse than being the lover of a wealthy man who says he adores you, I suppose."

"You got that right. Lucia can sit with Hector at all these affairs she wants. I'll take whispers of 'Je t'adore, je t'adore' and jewelry any night."

To be snubbed, oh so gently, in public. Waiting to grow too old, to be replaced by a younger model. To fear that every time he does not come, it's over. Elena rubbed her diamond bracelet.

Susana and Carmen joined them, seated by their "escorts," in plain sight of their lords, so they could be sure the concubines were not spreading their favors along with their skirts. "What's the topic of interest tonight?"

Jennifer displayed her ring for the others to admire. "Elena's Miguel's Olga is pregnant again. I was just about to tell her how lucky she was not to have to worry about that."

Carmen looked up. "You certainly are lucky in your man, Elena. If I ever stop having my time, Frederico would leave in a heart beat. It's not that he wants me with child, it's just the potential feeds his machismo."

Elena nodded, glanced up at the dias. She saw Miguel place his hand on Olga's belly, pat it lightly, beaming. Her heart sank. Even though my pussy flows at his touch, I cannot give him a child. Even giving myself completely to him, I cannot be fully his woman. Olga will always have given him what I cannot, a son.

Elena looked around the table at her fellow elegantly coifed and gowned mistresses. They dread what I wish I could have. Four years ago, I dreaded what I now am. You have to play the cards life deals, know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em. Elena looked up again at Miguel's handsome face, felt an ooze within her. She remembered how it had felt two nights ago, her legs wrapped around his waist as his buttocks shimmied, pumping the last of his hot sperm deep inside her. I guess I'll play these.

 

The End

 

 

 

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