Chapter 42 - Arlene Epilogue
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The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for
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Copyright 2003
****
Section 21 - Epilogue
"Oh yes, that's good," gasped Ernesto as Arlene forced the large strap-on cock
in as far as it would go. Her pubic mound pressed into his butt crack as her
hands clutched the tops of his shoulders. Arlene pushed harder to sink the last
centimeter inside her husband. Ernesto was down on all fours; his face resting
on his pillow and his butt angled upward. Arlene was standing on the bed in a
crouch slowing stroking the twelve inches of latex into Ernesto's anus.
"Shut up, you whore," responded Arlene delivering a powerful open handed slap
to Ernesto's buttocks causing him to whimper loudly and shed real tears onto his
pillow.
Ernesto found the pressure inside his abdomen both painful and pleasurable at
the same time. When Arlene withdrew, he could feel the walls of his intestine
compressing excruciatingly inward due to the suction. He groaned loudly acutely
aware of each millimeter of the dildo's passage. But when she drove forward, the
dildo's flared mushroom head forced the collapsed walls outward creating a quite
different sensation. Ernesto would expel a loud hiss of air as he clamped his
sphincter around the intruder and squeezed it tight to amplify the pain.
His buttocks and back were crisscrossed with painful bright red stripes.
Arlene's whip was still within her reach and she would undoubtedly use it again
before they were done. During their time together, Arlene had learned to
accurately gage Ernesto's capacity to withstand the whip. She could skillfully
take him to the very edge of his endurance but never go beyond it. Ernesto
considered President Williams almost god like in her understanding of human
nature. Arlene was perfection itself in terms of her capability to meet his
sexual needs.
Ernesto's cock and balls were incased in a metal and leather contraption that
stretched his gonads downward while his cock was extended through a series of
concentric metal rings that constricted every inch of its length. At the very
tip, the points of a set of sharp spikes pushed against the soft spongy cock
head. Each time his growing erection caused his cock head to impale itself on
the spikes; it was unbelievably painful. There was no way he could achieve the
orgasm he so desperately wanted until Arlene agreed to remove the device.
Ernesto's legs were dressed in mid night blue hose and a matching lace garter
belt maintained the hose in the proper position. The French cut panty still
clung to one ankle right above the navy open toe four-inch ankle strap sandals
tightly buckled to his feet. A blonde wig covered his graying hair and
prosthesis underneath the matching bra provided Ernesto respectable 38C breasts.
He couldn't pass as a girl at Macy's thought Arlene when earlier she had
dressed him as a woman and applied make-up that complemented his dark Latin
complexion; but he's not all that bad either. Arlene had been dressed in combat
fatigues when their little play-acting had begun. The uniform trousers were now
open and the leather dildo harness was visible above the fatigues lowered to her
knees.
Ernesto's current fantasy was closely patterned after what regularly occurred
when government or rebel troops made sweeps through the surrounding villages.
Punishing the peasants for cooperating with the other side by publicly raping
their wives and daughters in the town square was a frequent occurrence. Playing
on the large screen television in the far end of the room was a video made when
the rebels captured eight officer's wives who had gotten lost on a jungle road.
Arlene had watched the video several times. She became aroused and reached for
her favorite vibrating dildo when she watched it alone. There was something very
real and credible about the fear in the women's eyes as they were forced to
strip and dance for the rebel commander and his officers. One of the rebels was
a female and the naked wives were slapped and kicked until they knelt before her
and performed oral sex. It was exciting to see the light skinned descendants of
the Spaniards with their bloodied faces burrowing their noses and mouths into
the dark hairy mound of the rebel whose flat features identified her as one of
the natives whose ancestors were savagely suppressed by Pizarro and those who
came after him. The finale of the film took place in the square of a nearby
village. The officer's wives were arranged around the octagonal fountain and
raped by every male in the large village. The rape went on from early morning
until dark. Next day, the naked and half dead women were dumped out in the
center of La Paz on a busy street.
Of course, the army had its revenge when it captured rebels or arrived in
villages suspected of supporting the rebels. Some of the village women had been
publicly raped in more than one long afternoon.
One of Arlene's wifely duties was to cater to Ernesto's sexual fantasies.
Arlene paid close attention to detail. One of the wives in the video was dressed
almost identically to how she had clothed Ernesto that evening. Arlen had poured
through a dozen catalogs before she located a near identical dress. Ernesto had
marveled when he had stood close to the screen and compared himself to Senora
Mariposa Sanchez, wife of Colonel Sanchez. Colonel Sanchez had recently returned
from training in the United States. He had attended the School of the Americas.
His Black Hawk Helicopter Battalion had commenced a number of deadly sweeps
through rebel territory. When by sheer luck, the rebels captured the Colonel's
wife they made an example of her. Pictures of her being raped had been
transmitted to every hard core WEB site in Latin America.
It had been after midnight when the couple had retired to their soundproof
master suite and began their fantasy play. Arlene had forced Mariposa to remove
her dress and be manacled to an overhead rack. Arlene had hoisted her husband to
where his toes barely touched the floor. She had made a number of digital
pictures of him partially dressed. A vicious whipping that left him begging her
to stop followed.
At the end, Arlene freed Ernesto's cock from its metal and leather prison,
handed him a beaker of her urine and ordered him to drink it while he
masturbated. Arlene took the video camera off the tripod and filmed her
lingerie-dressed husband sitting on a straight chair stroking his cock and
sipping her piss until his cock exploded. Afterwards they showered and slept.
Over the years of their relationship, Arlene had used the Internet to acquire
what was needed to respond to Ernesto's rather bizarre needs. This year he felt
a need to be punished and humiliated in the Bolivian style. Last year, Arlene
had arranged for several beautiful transsexuals to fly to their hacienda for a
weekend of kinky sex. Because of her ability to be creative and her intuitive
sense of exactly what he needed most, Ernesto had grown to treasure Arlene and
their relationship had become a loving one.
However, it still required a considerable amount of work and worry outside of
sex and their Arlene had also made a substantial contribution.
Arlene finished keying the latest production figures for cocoa paste into the
spreadsheet and emailed it to an address in the capital city La Plaz. Arlene
removed her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She stretched her
shoulders and back. Ernesto would be back soon from visiting one of the
processing factories hidden deep in the jungle and they would all have lunch.
Ten years had passed since she and Denise had made the perilous landing at the
nearby jungle airstrip. Denise was nearby on the veranda reading a Spanish
version of a Dr. Seuss classic to five year old, Pablo. Pablo was the youngest
son of Ernesto and Arlene. The five boys of Ernesto's first wife, Kay, were well
past Dr. Seuss. The youngest of the five was twelve-year-old Adrian. The oldest,
Ernesto Junior would soon be off to Yale University.
"Would the Senora like some coffee or tea?" asked Maria, one of the house
servants.
"I think tea today," responded Arlene.
Arlene looked over the grounds of the estate. Several men armed with automatic
weapons and accompanied by guard dogs patrolled inside the large stone fence.
The hacienda was truly magnificent. Constructed of local stone hewn from Andean
rock it was impressively sited on a gentle slope at the foot of an extinct
volcano. A huge satellite dish provided broadband access to the Internet along
with television. In spite of the remote location, there was every convenience.
In the ten years, there had been six attacks by rebels. After the first one,
the one that came closest to succeeding, Arlene had insisted that she and all
members of the household be trained to use a weapon. Ernesto had been surprised
when she asked for an H&K MP5N. She had remembered it was what Kelly carried and
it was light and easy to use. Ernesto ordered her one. After he saw how
effective it was, he ordered several more. Later Arlene had arranged for an
ex-British SAS officer to consult on security and train the guards. The last two
groups of attackers had been slaughtered. Their mutilated and castrated bodies
had been returned to the rebels.
Situated throughout the grounds were hidden entrances to the underground
bunker where the children and servants were trained to run at the first sign of
an attack. Arlene insisted on regular drills and no one wanted to anger the
Senora by not moving as quickly as possible. Early on, some of the children
realizing it was another drill had ignored the alarm. After the Senora vented
her fury, no one had the courage not to run to the nearest entrance.
Only nineteen-year-old Ernesto Junior was allowed to arm himself and join the
other men in the defense of the compound.
Arlene thought about how she had become a one-man woman fifty weeks of the
year. I didn't fuck anybody but Ernesto for my first eight years. Now, she had
gained everyone's trust; Arlene was permitted two one-week vacations at the
nearby resort city of Cartagena, Chile. She checked into a luxury suite at the
city's most exclusive hotel. The hotel manager for a consideration arranged for
a succession of incredibly handsome and well-equipped young men to entertain the
senora night and day. If Ernesto knew or cared, he never mentioned it.
Arlene suspected that Ernesto occasionally screwed one of the young girls who
worked in the cocoa factories but she let that pass.
As the mother of his two youngest sons and only daughter, Michaela, she knew
her position was secure. Ernesto adored the three year old girl child and
spoiled her every chance he got. He also valued Arlene's work and contribution
to the plantation. They had become very comfortable together.
Arlee had been surprised at how well things had worked out. It was obvious
that President Candace Williams had an innate understanding of human nature. She
and Ernesto had been a good match from the start.
President Williams understood that Arlene always had a gift for adaptation.
Just as she became the complete Pagan girl willing to do anything expected of
one, she innately understood how to act the role of the patron's Senora.
Handling servants, resolving petty disputes, and taking on the tasks expected of
the great lady of such a large plantation were roles she quickly assumed.
Arlene handled all the record keeping for a huge enterprise that employed
thousands of farmers and factory workers. She had insisted Ernesto deposit large
sums of cash in various Swiss and Caribbean banks in case the government decided
to send the army to eradicate cocoa production. If they were ever shut down,
they would immigrate to Europe.
Denise loved to take care of the children and had proved the perfect nanny.
She lived nearby in the compound with one of Ernesto's managers. Her hair had
just begun to turn gray.
I guess things did not turn out so badly thought Arlene as Maria served her
tea. It certainly is an improvement over being eaten alive by a pair of jaguars.
