“Captain Sanchez, I demand to speak with my husband and family!” Jennifer Land spat venomously, placing her palms flat on the surface of the big desk. The ceiling fan overhead squeaked as it rocked loosely in its mount. Flies buzzed in the background. A steamy tropical breeze wafted in through the grimy curtains of the office of the “Comandante de Policia”.
The office itself was for the most part tastefully decorated, in a third world sort of way. In its center stood a large varnished wood desk with a scarred red leather top, from behind which the Comandante gazed impassively up at the angry, American woman. Against the far wall was a somewhat dilapidated couch covered in stained linen. A couple of rusting filing cabinets stood near the single window which looked out from two floors up onto a dusty courtyard below. Several posters of local scenery and one large oil painting of poor quality depicting “El Presidente” graced the drab white walls.
“Captain Sanchez, perhaps I’m not making myself clear,” Jennifer land continued. “I am an American citiz...”
The old rotary style telephone on the desk let out a clattering ring. The Comandante held up his hand, cutting Jennifer off in mid-syllable. “Sanchez,” he answered in clipped military fashion. He listened for several moments, nodding his head from time to time. “Si, bueno,” he replied into the receiver. Raoul Sanchez was not a man to mince words. “Si, perfecto. Gracias,” he said at last. An odd smile graced his poorly complected face as el Comandante leaned slowly forward to replace the telephone receiver into its cradle. He looked up at Jennifer Land once again, a completely neutral expression on his face.
Taking this as a cue that she might continue her verbal assault, Jennifer stood up straight, squared her shoulders, glared as menacingly as she knew how at the man behind the desk and spoke as calmly and succinctly as possible. “Captain Sanchez, I am an American citizen. I have been unjustly separated from my family and unduly detained. I wish first to speak with the consulate at our embassy. I expect immediately thereafter to be released from custody and reunited with my husband and daughter. I don’t know how I can make these demands any clearer, Captain Sanchez.” Having said her piece, Jennifer waited for the man’s reply and, she hoped, capitulation.
“Mrs. Land, please. Be patient with my office. There is no need for harsh words or hard feelings,” the Commandant said, switching to surprisingly good English. “That was one of my most trusted lieutenants just now.” He nodded toward the phone. “He assures me that your husband and young daughter are in good hands and in good health.” Jennifer opened her mouth to respond, but again was cut off by his upraised hand. Sanchez had a certain power over women. “You must understand,” he continued, “that we have, as a result of your own government’s insistence, sought to increase the security at our airport. We have just recently received reports from your Drug Enforcement Agency that there is a new smuggling ring in the region who allegedly uses operatives disguised as touring American families to move their product. We cannot be too careful, now can we, Mrs. Land.” Raising his eyebrows condescendingly, Sanchez folded his hands over his ample belly then leaned back in his big swivel chair, causing it to complain bitterly.
“Captain Sanchez, I sympathize with your situation, but I can assure you that my family and I are not the people you seek. Now, if you please, I would like to place a telephone call to our embassy.”
Jennifer Land was not about to forgive and forget. Not only had she, her husband and teenage daughter been forcibly separated almost immediately after setting foot in this God forsaken shit hole of a country, but Jennifer had then been escorted into a small anteroom where she was strip searched by a none to gentle Latin woman of massive stature. Every opening and orifice in her body had been systematically probed. Never in her thirty-two years had Jennifer been subjected to such indignities. She’d felt totally violated, and was therefor feeling quite vindictive.
“Very well, Mrs. Land,” Captain Sanchez said in a conciliatory manner. “If that is the way it must be between us, then so be it. I will do as you ask.” He leaned forward in his chair, picked up the telephone and dialed. Handing the receiver to Jennifer he said simply, “Your embassy.” He sat back in his big chair looking beaten and much chastened.
Sanchez watched Jennifer Land from behind his mask of contrition. “She is an attractive, young woman,” he thought. Captain Sanchez had a “thing” for American women. He enjoyed defiling them, to make them grovel. “They’re all such haughty bitches who lead their simpering males around by the testicles.” Sanchez laughed inwardly. “I suspect Mr. Land is learning all about being led by the testicles right now at the hands of Sergeant Diaz.”
Diaz, had a reputation for brutality and preferred the company of men, white men in particular. Diaz had been given the Land male as a reward for his part in the family’s abduction at the airport. Diaz had been told that he could keep Mr. Land for as long as it suited him after which he should either kill the man and dispose of the body or sell him to a mutual acquaintance who would see to it that Land was put to good use somewhere outside of their country.
Either way, the thought was amusing to Captain Raoul Sanchez as he sat listening to the idle threats and boasts the Land bitch was presently voicing over the phone to someone in her embassy.
“I want him reprimanded formally!” Jennifer Land shouted into the receiver. “And I want that ... that female beast of a security guard at the airport arrested. She virtually raped me!”
Again, Sanchez had to hold back a laugh. Angelica from airport security had thanked him profusely for allowing her to have a few minutes with the American woman. “It had been a long time since she’d played with such a ‘scrapper’,” Angelica had later informed her superior.
Jennifer faced Sanchez. Her dark, green eyes flashed in anger.
“She is indeed a beauty,” Sanchez thought idly. “One would hardly suspect that she is the mother of a fifteen year old daughter.”
Jennifer had in fact turned thirty-two one month earlier, and she was indeed a very hansom young woman who caught many a stare from male passers by. Jennifer had dark, brown hair which she wore girlishly long, often tied back in a ponytail. Her face was a lovely oval shape with high cheek bones. Jennifer had a cute upturned nose and sparkling green eyes. She kept herself in immaculate shape, spending many hours at the Nautilus Club in her home town. She also lifted free weights and ran. Jennifer had a narrow waist and nicely shaped hips. Her breasts were not overly large. One might call them, “a handful”. Even after having breast fed her daughter Emily, Jennifer’s tits had not lost their bounce. Jennifer’s best feature, all of her male acquaintances agreed, was her rear end. Put simply, Jennifer Land had a great ass.
While he watched her talking on the phone, Sanchez continued his daydream. “Let’s see,” Sanchez thought, doing the math while Jennifer rattled on with the embassy, “Daughter is fifteen, that means mother was seventeen when daughter was born. So, probably knocked up when she was sixteen. Well ... well ... well,” thought Sanchez. “This is indeed interesting. The sassy bitch standing on the other side of the desk started rather early. I wonder if her weakling husband was her first and only. I suppose with one so young it’s possible. Interesting. Very interesting. It shouldn’t bother her too much then when her daughter follows in her mother’s footsteps.” This thought brought a smile to Sanchez’s lips.
“And just what are you grinning about, Captain?” Jennifer Land said as she placed the receiver none to gently onto the cradle. “That was Gary Jameson of the United States Embassy on the phone. He informed me that he is on his way over here as we speak, and expects to be here in about two hours. Mr. Jameson told me to tell you that you and he are going to have a lot to talk about when he arrives.”
“Two hours,” Sanchez muttered as he looked up at Jennifer Land from his musings. “Only two hours. That doesn’t leave us much time.”
“Time?” Jennifer asked, confused. “Time for what, Captain?”
“Mrs. Land, we have much to do if we are to reunite you with your family. There are many details which must be worked out,” Captain Sanchez said in a very businesslike and official manner. He leaned forward and shuffled through some papers on the desk. Then looking up at Jennifer, he said flatly, “The first thing you will need to do for me, Mrs. Land is to remove your clothing.”
For a long moment, Jennifer stood staring at the man behind the desk, refusing to believe what she had just heard. Finally, Jennifer found her voice. “I ... I beg your pardon, Captain,” she croaked, then cleared her throat, trying to recover her equilibrium.
“I asked that you please remove your clothing, Mrs. Land,” Sanchez repeated in a cold tone of voice, his dark eyes sparkling wickedly. “I don’t know how much clearer I can be.” He smiled up at the shocked young woman. It was a cold, predatory smile that sent shivers through Jennifer.
It only took a moment for the adrenalin to kick in. Jennifer could hear her heart pounding in her ears. At first she glanced quickly around the dingy office, looking for a way to escape. When nothing obvious presented itself, she looked back at the captain. Jennifer managed to regain some composure through sheer force of will, and with it came anger and outrage. Summoning all of her courage, Jennifer glared across the desk at Sanchez and growled, “I’ll do no such thing. How dare you even suggest something so vile and crude. I’ll have you know that this incident will not go unreported. As soon as Mr. Jameson arrives, there will be hell to pay. And now, Captain,” Jennifer spat triumphantly. “I demand that you escort me to a suitable place where I might await Ambassador Jameson’s arrival.”
The room fell silent following Jennifer’s tirade. Raoul Sanchez and Jennifer Land remained locked eye to eye for several moments. The sound of children laughing could be heard coming from somewhere outside.
With a resigned sigh, Captain Raoul Sanchez pushed back his desk chair and stood slowly. His posture was slouched and chastened as he moved around the end of his desk. Then as he stepped in front of Jennifer Land, he suddenly stood up straight revealing his true size. Jennifer actually took a step backward as she looked up at the big man.
Raoul Sanchez, though a little on the pudgy side, was an imposing figure of a man. Standing at six foot four inches tall, he weighed two hundred seventy pounds if he weighed an ounce. After an uncomfortable period of silence during which Sanchez noted the fear in the American bitch’s eyes, he said almost conversationally, “I think, Mrs. Land, it is time that you fully understand your situation.” Jennifer meanwhile was speechless. Continuing, the big man said, “You are not in America anymore, Mrs. Land. You are in my country; in my world.” Sanchez grinned maliciously. “And in my world, Mrs. Land, the only rights you have are those that I see fit to grant to you.”
Jennifer opened her mouth to object. Like lightning, Sanchez’s hand shot out and slapped her hard across her mouth, with a resounding “crack”. Jennifer spun, catching herself on the edge of the desk, or she would have fallen to the floor. Her head swam. She tasted blood. Jennifer was thoroughly stunned, having never been struck before by anyone for any reason.
“You will learn to speak only when told, Mrs. Land.” Sanchez continued in his cold conversational tone. He wasn’t even breathing hard. “In my world, Mrs. Land, you will soon discover that everyone, and I do mean everyone, follows my orders without question or hesitation. I expect no less from you, Mrs. Land.” Having said this, Sanchez remained silent for a moment as if waiting for Jennifer to digest all that he had said. Then without warning he snapped, “Strip, Mrs. Land. This minute!”
Jennifer took another step backward. She wasn’t beaten yet. She wasn’t going to go down without a fight. “It’ll take more than what you’ve got to make me do anything of the sort, you bastard!” Jennifer hissed. She looked like a cornered alley cat.
With a laugh, Sanchez reached out and grabbed Jennifer by her upper arm.
“Oww! Let go of me you son of a bitch!” Jennifer struggled, but to no avail.
Sanchez shook Jennifer like a child, then slapped her on the side of her head once ... twice. Jennifer was terrified. Sanchez smiled at her when she looked back up at him, her green eyes wide and staring. “Mrs. Land, I can arrange for some assistance if you wish. I am sure that more than one of my guards will happily volunteer to disrobe you, but I thought that I would spare you that embarrassment. I was hoping that this would be a private affair between you and me.” He grinned wickedly.
Sanchez released his grip on Jennifer’s arm, leaned casually back against the edge of his desk and crossed his powerful arms over his chest. “Before we get started, Mrs. Land, I would like to point out one other piece of information which you may have overlooked.”
Jennifer gazed up at him with hate in her eyes while she rubbed her injured arm.
Sanchez leaned back and picked up a file folder from the stack of papers on the desk top. Opening the folder he scanned its contents in silence. Then at last he began to read from the top sheet in the file. “Emily Land,” he quoted. “Age 15, five feet, 4 inches tall, 93 pounds, green eyes, brown hair, appendectomy scar on lower abdomen.” Sanchez glanced over the top of the folder and smiled when he saw the look of horror on Jennifer Land’s face.
Immediately her entire demeanor changed. “Captain Sanchez, I...” Jennifer stammered then stood silent, her heart racing again. “Captain, please. You assured me that my family would not be harmed.”
“Harmed, Mrs. Land? Harmed? Of course not. At this moment, your husband Mr. Land is in capable hands. I’m sure he is being treated to some of our local color, and your lovely daughter thus far has undergone only a routine search.”
Jennifer’s vile look made Sanchez pause, holding up his hand in mock surrender.
“Please, Mrs. Land. Before you misjudge me. Your daughter was searched, but no invasive methods were used on the young lady. She is safe and in good care.” He noticed Jennifer relax a bit. “It is that care that I wish to discuss with you, Mrs. Land.” He paused to be sure he had Jennifer’s undivided attention. “As I have mentioned, your daughter is indeed a lovely, young girl, taking after her mother.” The compliment went unrecognized. “Emily is under the watchful eye of one of my top lieutenants, however, it has been reported that several of the other guards at our detention facility have, shall we say, taken more than a casual interest your daughter.”
Jennifer felt sick. She knew where this was going. Just then a knock came on the office door.
“Si,” Sanchez snapped, obviously annoyed at the interruption.
The door opened, and a young uniformed guard stepped into the office. “Pardoneme, mi Capitan,” the man began then continued on in rapid Spanish. Sanchez nodded several times, curtly. When the guard finished, he was excused by the Captain and quickly left the office.
Turning to Jennifer, Sanchez said, “My guard has informed me, Mrs. Land, that Mr. Jameson from your embassy will be detained for an indefinite period of time. He sends his regrets and asks that you please be patient.” Sanchez smiled his wicked smile then continued. “So, Mrs. Land. It appears we have a bit more time to spend together, you and I.”
Jennifer felt the blood rush from her head. Unsympathetically, Sanchez simply stood by and watched as the young woman nearly fainted. Jennifer was cold and trembling when the Captain next spoke. “Well, then, Mrs. Land. Let’s continue then, shall we. Please disrobe for me now. You may begin with your blouse, and remember, Mrs. Land. It is only through my direct intervention that your young daughter, Emily escapes the amorous attentions of some of my staff. Latin’s are known for their skill with women, Mrs. Land. I’m certain that young Emily would learn many new pleasures were I to permit it. Do I make myself perfectly clear, Mrs. Land?” Sanchez pushed himself away from the desk and took Jennifer’s chin in his big hand, squeezing her cheeks. “I said, do I make myself clear, Mrs. Land? I expect for you to answer my questions.” His voice was cold and threatening.
Jennifer took a slow, shuddering breath, held it then slowly nodded her head.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Land. I didn’t hear you. Your answer, please, and have the courtesy to look me in the eye when you speak.” He let go of her.
Terrified for her daughter and outraged at her own situation, Jennifer Land replied, “I understand you, Captain Sanchez.” Then as she looked into the man’s black eyes, Jennifer’s inner courage and spunk allowed her to say, “But I can assure you, Captain that you have not heard the end of this. My husband will not take this lying down.”
A broad smile spread across Raoul Sanchez’s face. “No, Mrs. Land, but he’ll be taking a lot of other things lying down,” he thought to himself. Then aloud he said, “The blouse, Mrs. Land.”
“But ... But, Captain Sanchez, please. I’m a married woman and a mother. A lame excuse,” Jennifer thought to herself. “Had she been reduced to whining?”
“Yes, yes, Mrs. Land. I know. And if my arithmetic doesn’t fail me, you bloomed early.” He almost laughed aloud at Jennifer’s reaction. “Tell me, Mrs. Land. Have you had many lovers, or just your husband?” He reached out with both hands and took Jennifer by her shoulders. Jennifer tried to shrug his hands away, but was unable to overpower the big man. She looked down at her feet, resignation creeping into her psyche. “Mrs. Land, please look up at me. You have such lovely green eyes.” He placed two fingers beneath Jennifer’s chin and raised her eyes to his.
Jennifer tried to appear defiant and strong, but her courage was flagging quickly. She felt so alone and vulnerable here in this awful place with this horrible man. She didn’t want to even think about what was going to happen next. She didn’t have long to wait to find out.
“That’s much better,” Sanchez said. “Now let me help you with your blouse.” Before Jennifer knew what was happening the big man removed his hands from her shoulders and began to fumble with the top button of her silk blouse.
“Nnnnnnnnno,” Jennifer whimpered, grabbing his hands, her eyes filled with alarm.
“Drop your hands, please, Mrs. Land.” Sanchez commanded. He stared into Jennifer’s eyes. She saw no compassion there; only lust and wickedness. Sanchez unfastened the top button.
Jennifer continued to stare into the Captain’s dark eyes, her hands holding ineffectually onto his wrists as Sanchez worked his way down, unbuttoning one button after another, a condescending smirk on his face. At last Jennifer let go of his wrists and dropped her hands to her sides, allowing Sanchez to tug the tails of her blouse from under the waist band of her khaki skirt. Without a word, the big man slipped the smooth silk over Jennifer’s shoulders then allowed the soft material to fall down her back, sliding down Jennifer’s arms to the floor behind her. Satisfied with his progress thus far, Sanchez leaned back against the edge of his desk. Then as if appraising a side of beef, the big Latin looked Jennifer up and down. Jennifer lowered her gaze to the floor. She was mortified.
“Very nice, indeed, Mrs. Land. Your husband is a fortunate man. Please continue, or do you prefer that I assist you?”
Jennifer quickly looked up at her captor, her fear and loathing readily apparent on her face. Then, summoning her waning inner strength, Jennifer looked Sanchez directly in the eye and said with as much contempt as she could muster, “No, thank you, Captain. You’ve done quite enough.”
“Very well, then Mrs. Land. Your skirt next, if you please.” Sanchez folded his arms across his broad chest, waiting.
Not for the last time, Jennifer looked quickly around the room hoping she might spot some avenue of escape, but as before, none presented itself. She looked up at Sanchez, hoping for some sign of compassion or humanity. She saw none in his dark eyes. It was hopeless. Slowly, Jennifer reached to her side for the catch to her wrap around Khaki skirt. While Sanchez watched seemingly impassively, Jennifer unhooked the small hook. Before proceeding she again gazed into her captor’s eyes with all the courage and contempt she could muster. She opened the skirt and released it, allowing it to join her blouse in a pile at her feet. Jennifer Land now stood in only her bra and panties before a total stranger in a hostile land far from her home and family. She was utterly alone.
Jennifer shrank back from Captain Sanchez when the big man pushed himself away from his desk. Unexpectedly, however, he turned away from her. Stepping behind his desk, Raoul Sanchez sat heavily in his big swivel chair. Jennifer stood very still, unsure of what to expect next. Sanchez folded his hands over his belly and stared at the top of the desk for several moments. Then at last he looked up at Jennifer. After a prolonged pause where Sanchez allowed his eyes to travel slowly over every inch of Jennifer’s body, he said, “Marvelous. Simply marvelous Mrs. Land.”
For the first time, Jennifer felt a hot blush creep up her neck. She lowered her gaze and instinctively pressed her knees together. When she looked back up at Sanchez after a moment, the man made a motion with his hand indicating that Jennifer should turn in a circle.
“What a beauty,” Raoul Sanchez thought as Jennifer slowly complied with his demands. He watched enthralled as the American woman turned slowly. Her breasts were perfectly shaped and filled her B cup brassiere nicely. Sanchez could see that the small satin garment offered very little support. What he saw behind that smooth shining material was all woman. His eyes traveled slowly down the American’s body noting every enticing curve. Her tummy was flat and muscular as a result of hours of working out. As the young woman continued to turn, reluctantly displaying herself, Sanchez was awe struck, as were many by Jennifer Land’s rear end. Then, as she turned away from him, Raoul Sanchez was presented with a lovely view of her narrow waist and spreading hips. The smooth, white skin of her muscular back was accented by the long pony tail of dark, shining hair which hung almost to her waist. Then again she stood sideways to him presenting a mouth drying profile of her full, shapely bottom.
“Dios Mio!” Sanchez gasped softly.
When at last Jennifer again faced her captor, Sanchez’s eyes locked onto the triangular panel of satin between the young woman’s thighs. The shining panel bulged outward enticingly. Obviously a treasure lay behind.
Sanchez very much wanted to see what lay hidden behind the two small garments which remained between him and the full disclosure of the American woman’s charms. A voyeur at heart, Raoul Sanchez rarely engaged actively in these “interviews” as he thought of them, and there had been several in the recent past. This time, however, as he studied the shapely body of the woman standing opposite his desk, Sanchez thought he might like to participate.
At last Sanchez roused himself from his musings and said, “That was well done, Mrs. Land. As I said earlier, you are a handsome woman. Please come around here and stand beside me. I would like to get a closer look at you.”
Jennifer’s mind raced as she frantically tried to think of a way out of this horrible situation.
“Mrs. Land,” Sanchez said expectantly. “Come around here now, please.” With his hand, he gestured to the floor beside his chair.
Unable to think coherently in her near panicked state of mind, Jennifer found herself doing exactly as she was told. She moved slowly around the big desk until at last she stood near her captor’s chair.
“Closer, please, Mrs. Land,” Sanchez said with a predatory smile.
Jennifer took a step closer. When she saw Sanchez reach a hand in her direction, Jennifer instinctively started to move to avoid his touch, but when she saw the cold look appear instantly on Sanchez’s face she froze. Jennifer shuddered when the man placed his hand on her hip and pulled her closer still. She stumbled, almost falling into Sanchez’s lap in the process, but was able to catch her balance at the last minute.
“Her skin is so very soft,” Sanchez thought. “American women do spend a lot of time on their appearance. In this one’s case, it’s been worth the effort.” He felt Jennifer flinch when he squeezed the firm flesh just behind her hip bone. “Love handles,” the American’s call them,” he thought with a smile. “A good name.” He allowed his hand to slip down onto the smooth satin covering the young woman’s fabulous backside. Sanchez could feel Jennifer’s body heat through the soft satin. He also noted with excitement the firmness of the flesh beneath. In his mind’s eye, Sanchez saw that flesh compressing beneath the impact of a lover’s thighs. “Soon,” he thought. “Soon.”
Sanchez broke the prolonged uncomfortable silence by saying, “Your brassiere, Mrs. Land. Remove it for me now, please.”
When Jennifer opened her mouth to object, she received a painful squeeze from Sanchez’s powerful hand upon her hip. She looked down at him in bewilderment, wincing in pain. Sanchez brought his other hand up to Jennifer’s other hip holding her as he turned his chair to face her. Then spreading his knees apart, he pulled her forward so that she stood between them. Jennifer whimpered for the second time, jumping slightly when she felt the course material of Sanchez’s pant legs touch her skin. She quickly found herself in a very compromising position.
“Your brassiere, Mrs. Land,” Sanchez said again in a far more commanding tone of voice as he stared Jennifer coldly in the eye.
The man’s big hands remained on her hips as Jennifer slowly brought her hands up to the small catch between the cups of her bra. She closed her eyes and shuddered once again when the man began to slowly kneed the flesh of her hips. Then her hands froze in place. Jennifer was unable to go any further. Fear had her completely paralyzed.
“Look at me, Mrs. Land!” Sanchez snapped, shocking Jennifer back to the moment.
“Oww,” she cried when the big man squeezed her hips. This time with both hands and leaving red imprints in Jennifer’s white skin. She did as she was told and opened her eyes.
“That’s better the man cooed. Now, once again, Mrs. Land,” he continued, his tone of voice turning cold. “I want you to remove your brassiere. Don’t make me ask you again, Mrs. Land.”
The hostile, threatening demeanor of the big man coupled with the mild state of shock that Jennifer was in caused her resolve to falter. She unfastened the catch of her bra. At that same instant, to Jennifer’s astonishment, Raoul Sanchez slipped his thumbs under the elastic waist band of her panties and quickly drew them down past her knees in one smooth, practiced motion.
“Nooo!” Jennifer cried. Unwittingly she let go of her brassiere in a belated attempt to prevent her captor from exposing her. The result was quite pleasing to the eye. The elastic strap at the back of Jennifer’s bra caused the cups covering her firm breasts to jerk back suddenly, making her bounce invitingly just inches from Sanchez’s face. Jennifer saw the man’s eye’s lock onto her exposed sex as she reflexively tried to capture the brassiere. The whole affair was almost comical. Quickly, Jennifer moved her right hand down to cover herself while attempting to cover her breasts with her left hand and forearm.
Jennifer’s heart raced. She had never before been exposed in such a manner. She was not in the habit of showing herself to anyone, including her husband. Even when they made love, which was not all that often, Jennifer would insist that they turn the lights off before she undressed and slid between the sheets. And now here she was standing naked and alone before a total stranger. Jennifer felt the panic begin to rise within her mind, blanking out all coherent thought.
As if from a great distance Jennifer heard a voice say, “Uncover yourself, please, Mrs. Land.” When all Jennifer was able to do was to stare blankly down at the horrible man between whose legs she stood, she felt powerful hands grasp her wrists.
With very little effort, Raoul Sanchez was able to force Jennifer’s hands down to her sides where he held them firmly in place against her hips. Sanchez smiled at the far away look of shock on his captive’s pretty face. From there he allowed his eyes to move down the American woman’s body so close to him he could smell her fear as well as her pungent female aroma. The young woman straightened in a half-hearted attempt to struggle free of his grasp. It was an ineffectual effort at best. As Sanchez leaned forward in his seat his face came within inches of Jennifer’s shapely breasts. He studied them closely for a moment before moving on. The two milky white orbs were indeed perfect. Not a stretch mark or blemish could be seen on either. The pink, upturned nipples gave no hint that a child had once suckled them for nourishment. Raoul Sanchez let his eyes wonder “south” past Jennifer Land’s smooth but slightly rounded belly which currently heaved from her rapid breathing. The skin was flawless.
“Dios mio, Mrs. Land!” Raoul Sanchez muttered under his breath when at last his eyes came to rest on the dark patch of close curls at the top of Jennifer Land’s triangular treasure. Sanchez released Jennifer’s wrists, then leaning down, he took hold of Jennifer’s panties which were in a tight roll just below her knees and tugged them down to her ankles. He was pleased to note that she did not move to prevent this action. “She was beginning to surrender,” he thought. “Excellent!” “Step out of your panties, please, Mrs. Land,” he said without looking up.
As if in a dream, Jennifer Land found herself reaching out with one hand to Sanchez’s shoulder. Steadying herself, Jennifer raised first one foot, then the other, as she stepped out of her panties with the help of her captor.
Sanchez smiled knowingly from his bent over position. Slowly he let his gaze travel up Jennifer’s calves and thighs until his face was mere inches from her most private area. Sanchez was pleased to see that unlike most American women, Jennifer Land had not shaved herself down there. Most Americans he had had the pleasure of inspecting had adopted the habit of shaving their pubic hair into a thin vertical stripe. A “mohawk” he had heard it referred to. Sanchez had learned that these women did this so they could wear the new “thong style” swimming suites. Such immodest creatures, American women were. “They were all whores!” Sanchez thought. “But not this one, I see.”
Jennifer remained still, frozen by fear and shock while the big man inspected her. Now that she was fully exposed, there wasn’t much she could do to prevent it. She caught herself musing, “I’m glad I shaved this morning.” Then she berated herself. “What am I thinking!”
It was true. Jennifer had “tidied herself up a bit” down there. The extent of her shaving was usually only to remove the hair from the insides of her thighs and maybe the thin, stripe of dark curls that insisted on growing upward toward her belly button. Jennifer Land was a bit of a prude as modern women go. She was very hesitant about touching herself. She had been scolded entirely too often by her mother when she was little, and as a result, Jennifer felt very uncomfortable even going about her regular feminine hygiene. The first time her husband had touched her had been a very traumatic experience for Jennifer. Because of her childhood hangups, Jennifer Land did not particularly enjoy manual foreplay. Couple that with the fact that Ed Land, her husband, was an extremely unskilled and even clumsy lover, and one can plainly see why Jennifer Land was now a rather inexperienced woman.
Sanchez had sensed this about his captive from the beginning, figuring correctly that her haughty and head strong attitude was a psychological defense mechanism designed to mask her fear of her own sexuality. “Mrs. Jennifer Land was the perfect subject,” Raoul Sanchez thought with a chuckle as he unexpectedly placed his right hand on the inside of Jennifer’s right knee. Before the young woman knew what was happening, Sanchez moved his hand quickly up the inside of her thigh until the blade of his index finger pressed firmly up against the resilient flesh of Jennifer’s labia majora. Sanchez felt Jennifer’s moist female heat radiate downward onto his hand as he pressed against her soft, furry flesh. He moved his other hand up behind his captive’s firm buttocks, preventing Jennifer from escaping his attentions.
“Oh ... oh ... Nnnn ... No! Please!” Jennifer gasped. The sensation of the man’s hand on her most intimate flesh rocked Jennifer’s psyche. Instinctively she tried to move her hips away from the source of her displeasure, but quickly found that Sanchez had her pinned with his other big hand which practically covered her entire bottom.
“Surprised, Mrs. Land?” Sanchez chuckled. “You are very soft and warm, my dear.” He began to rub.
Jennifer gasped and began to struggle. She tried to stand up on her tip toes to raise herself up off Sanchez’s exploring hand. It had been years since anyone had touched her this way. “Stop!” Jennifer cried as she twisted her hips attempting to free herself.
“Hold still!” Jennifer heard her attacker say in a commanding voice, followed by a resounding “SLAP”. The loud sound didn’t register at first until the pain hit.
“Owww ... God!” Jennifer Land cried aloud. Sanchez had slapped her hard on her tender butt with his big left hand. A red hand print remained on her pale flesh for several minutes. She struggled harder. Another “SLAP”. “He’s spanking me!” Jennifer’s mind screamed. “Oh, God!, he’s spanking me! Oww, God it hurts!”
“Her ass is so firm and resilient,” Sanchez mused idly. He would have liked to have gone on to deliver a proper spanking to the American bitch, but time was passing. There were other far better ways to “gain cooperation” Sanchez reminded himself.
“Hold still and spread your legs, Mrs. Land,” Sanchez commanded. He continued to rub Jennifer. He pushed against the inside of her right thigh forcing Jennifer to spread her legs farther apart.
“Oh, God, He’s touching me!” Jennifer screamed in her mind. She felt Sanchez’s fingers slip between the outer lips of her sex. Jennifer felt herself sliding into shock. Her head spun. Her legs were weak and rubbery. It was as if her captor supported her from falling with his hand between her legs. “He’s touching me! Oh no ... Oh God ... Noooo!”
“That’s very good, my dear,” Sanchez said gruffly Jennifer parted her thighs, however reluctantly. He rocked his hand slowly from side to side pushing Jennifer’s heavy labia aside and allowing him access to the warm, moist flesh between. He thrilled to the feel of the woman’s petal like inner lips against the side of his finger. “She’s rather dry,” Sanchez thought. “But we’ll soon change all that,” he thought with a wicked grin.
Jennifer’s concept of the world and what was right and what was wrong began to crumble. She slipped into what could only be described as an “out of body experience”. It was as if she were standing removed from her own body watching herself being forced to submit to the horrible captain’s attentions. Several minutes passed while Jennifer slipped back and forth from one “reality” to the other. At one point she would be standing in her own skin, gazing down in trance like horror at the big man’s hand between her legs. The next moment she floated beside herself watching as Sanchez rubbed her, sliding his hand slowly back and forth between her thighs. Suddenly, crashing back into herself, Jennifer began to cry. She stood sobbing while Sanchez went on with his fondling, apparently unmoved by her tears. Jennifer was mortified. An otherwise strong and self-confident woman, she was at the same time both ashamed and enraged for allowing herself to be handled in such a manner. Jennifer had once wondered a how she might react to rape. She had always assumed she would put up a fight. And now, reality.
After several long minutes, the big man looked up at Jennifer and said, “Mrs. Land, why the tears? You are a beautiful and sensual, young woman. I would think that at some point, you might come to enjoy my touch. I realize that this is difficult for you, but consider this. You are doing your young daughter a great service. It could just as easily be young Emily Land standing here in your place.” Sanchez stared directly into Jennifer’s eyes as he rolled his hand palm upward between her thighs. The wicked captain took great joy as while he separated Jennifer’s inner lips with his finger tips, he watched the expressions of loathing and fear play across her face. “You’re becoming aroused, Mrs. Land,” Sanchez said with a wicked smile.
“Ggggnnnnn... , “ Jennifer groaned through tightly clenched teeth as Sanchez entered her with his middle finger. Jennifer Land gasped deeply twice in rapid succession, then she clamped her legs tightly together as she felt the presence of the man’s finger inside of her.
From somewhere deep down, Jennifer was able to summon enough courage given her situation to say to the evil man, “Please, Captain Sanchez,” Jennifer shuddered. “Do what you will with me, but please, I beg you. Don’t harm my daughter. Please don’t hurt Emily.”
For a long time, Sanchez didn’t answer, but continued to move his finger slowly in and out of Jennifer, while he watched the play of emotions on her face. When at last he did speak, his comment took Jennifer completely by surprise. “Tell me. How long has it been since you’ve had a real man, the kind of man who can make you feel truly like a woman, Mrs. Land?”