Santo Diablo
Copyright© 2025 by FantasyLover
Chapter 9
Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 9 - I'm reposting a story that I pulled from SOL and then edited to meet the slightly more stringent guidelines from late March of this year. I also changed the story's name slightly. Yes, I know Santo Diablo is Western Hemisphere Spanish, and Portuguese is the official language in Brazil. Tough tookies. Story of a spy who gets out of the business. He retires to Rio planning to use what he has learned to create the life he's always dreamed of. adventure, action, intrigue, and espionage.
Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft mt/Fa Fa/Fa ft/ft Fa/ft Rape Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction BDSM Harem
TUESDAY Feb 26
We were all exhausted when we got home after sunrise, but Corrina, Evita, and Jocaine insisted on a horizontal Samba before they would let me sleep, not that I minded too much. Up to now, Jocaine had always shied away from sex with the other women. She didn’t mind touching or fondling, but had avoided kissing or oral sex. We all accepted that, and nobody ever pushed her to go farther than she did voluntarily.
After all three had my warm, sticky reward inside them, Jocaine surprised everyone and went down on Corrina in a torrid 69. She wasn’t even tentative about it. She just buried her face in Corrina’s crotch and her tongue in her pussy and went at it. Surprised, Corrina returned the favor. I noticed that Jocaine would mimic what Corrina was doing to her, a little on the job training so to speak.
They were so hot that I was quickly ready to go again and speared Jocaine again while Corrina’s tongue was busy elsewhere. I grinned when I saw Corrina’s hand snake up between the two of us. I grabbed Jocaine’s hips firmly, getting ready for the wild ride. She didn’t disappoint me. When Corrina’s finger disappeared into Jocaine’s unsuspecting sphincter, she shrieked at the top of her lungs and came harder than she had ever come before, finally collapsing, unconscious, on top of Corrina. Corrina, Evita, and I talked quietly before we went to sleep and when we finally woke up for lunch, I offered Jocaine a ring of her own. I never made it to lunch, and barely made it to dinner.
WEDNESDAY Jan 3
Ten months later
Today Governor Ambrosio kept his word and repaid me. Since we controlled the State Legislature (in more ways than one), he had quietly gotten a bill passed that would allow me to marry up to ten women. Today I married Evita, Carlita, Amanda, Isabella, Marta, Avril, Jocaine, Angela, and Luisa.
Just over thirty-seven months after meeting Corrina, we had been in a 5-star hotel in beautiful Tahiti on Christmas Eve. Operation Papai Noel had been handled without me this year. I motioned for Corrina, and she hurried to the door, disappearing quickly into the hallway outside of our suite. I watched through the peephole and could hear what she was saying through the partially open door. “Mrs. Schiller, my husband and I would like to invite you, your husband, your son, your daughter and her family to have Christmas Eve dinner with us in our suite this evening,” she said.
“Do I know you? You seem to know quite a bit about my family,” the woman answered cautiously.
“You don’t know me yet, but you’ve known my husband for a long time and he’s pretty sure you’d like to have dinner with us and meet your grandchildren,” Corrina explained quietly.
“Grand ... Rmmmfff?” she mumbled as Corrina managed to cover her mouth.
“It might be best to continue this discussion someplace more private,” Corrina reminded her quietly, motioning towards the partially open door I was hiding behind. She nodded her understanding, almost bolting for the door and throwing it open excitedly.
“Hello, Mother,” I said as she looked around the room for her son, seeing nobody but me.
“The voice is familiar, but...” she said, looking me over carefully. “How do I know it’s really you?” she asked cautiously.
“Well, there was the time when I was twelve and you barged into my bedroom...”
“Okay, okay,” she conceded. Corrina cracked up when she suddenly realized what I must have been doing at that moment.
“I never would have recognized you,” she admitted.
“I know. I’ve walked right past you four times since you got here yesterday,” I laughed.
“Evita,” I called loud enough to be heard through the closed bedroom door. It opened and the room was suddenly filled with eight additional beautiful women and a dozen rugrats ranging in age from six months to two years, as well as Angela’s two daughters that I have adopted.
“Mom, my wives, and your grandchildren,” I announced.
Stunned, she stared, open-mouthed at me. “Wives?” she finally gasped. I explained that the governor of the state we lived in was a close friend and got a special law passed that would allow me to have up to ten wives.
“Must be some friend,” she commented, still not sure she believed me.
“I’m the reason he’s governor, and a leading candidate for president in two years instead of just the former mayor. Besides, one of my wives is his daughter,” I explained.
“Ohmigod, I forgot all about your father. I was going to get ice,” she exclaimed. She hurried across the hall and was back a couple of minutes later with the rest of my family. After a tearful reunion, I introduced everyone to my wives and children, smirking inside as I watched my brother eyeballing so many beautiful women.
I explained that I had hoped to convince them to leave the US and move to where I was. They all knew most of the reason I disappeared three and a half years ago.
I had broken confidentiality regulations enough back then to tell them who I had really worked for and about being assigned as a double agent. When they wondered aloud about what they could do for a living I laughed. “I will give you a beautiful villa complete with a staff to pamper you. You will never need to work another day in your life, but I can always find something for you to do if you want.”
Then I explained what I did for a living. My mother and sister were incensed at first, but when Corrina told them emotionally that I was doing it because she had asked me to and why she had asked me, they finally listened while she explained that the girls of the slums would be doing it anyway and that I was just making it safer for them and seeing that they kept more of the money. She also told them how many other jobs I had created, about the schools, clinics, and how I had stopped the gang violence and was reducing drug use and overall crime. They were surprised to learn that every major city in the country had asked my friend the Governor to help broker a deal to get us to come to their city.
Currently, The Corporation had over a hundred thousand members across the country, as well as over forty Santo Diablo’s, including at least one in every state capital. I didn’t tell my family, but our internet porn site was the biggest in the world, and with the new, faster cable modems, we were able to provide all of our legal videos online as well as through Joop. We were up to thirty studios and production crews, putting many of the better graphic arts graduates from the local universities to work, as well as training several our own girls to handle the sound, lighting, and cameras.
While the main Santo Diablo’s in each state had at least one floor with production studios on it, all of the internet video and picture links were handled from one main building in Rio. It was built on the industrial property I had bought, and it boasted more servers and internet links than many of the internet service providers people used to reach us. We had live feeds from every major Santo Diablo’s and usually had over three thousand different women available at any given point in time.
Hedonist Cruises had been a huge success, and they currently had two ships with plans for a third. Many of the male criminals The Corporation Patrol captured served their sentences as gay prostitutes onboard the ships. We usually had around a hundred women, teenage girls, and teenage boys aboard each cruise as well.
We had captured two more torture killers, one in Argentina and one in Venezuela. The torture and snuff films they made for us sold quite well and they aided greatly in doling out punishments for the worst offenders The Corporation Patrols brought in.
Other investments I had garnished from the people who had stolen them in the first place were also doing well. One of the biggest was hundreds of thousands of acres of farmland I had converted to sugar cane. I kept increasing the number of acres we had under production. I knew that there would never be a decrease in the demand for sugar, and Brazil had been trying to increase production of gasohol to cut their dependence on foreign oil. Whenever feasible, we did the agricultural work manually. Not only did this reduce the need for expensive machinery, but it also provided a lot of jobs that paid enough for families to survive on, reducing the number that came to the cities out of economic desperation and ended up in the favelas.
The industrial land I bought near the favelas was soon being built on ... by me. I built a huge plant where we turned the cane into ethanol before shipping it off to be added to gasoline to make gasohol. We also had a second plant next to it where we made rum. One of the old women in one of the favelas gave us a bottle of homemade rum as a thank-you for a favor we did for her. Our rum, Carioca, was based on her formula, and the money she got when we bought the right to use her recipe helped her move her entire extended family into nice homes.
Beneath the distillery is a cavernous underground cellar where we age the rum. All day and night, trainloads of cane arrive from the fields and tankers of ethanol are shipped out. The leftover cane is burned to provide energy for the two factories and our other businesses in the area. We even sell the extra energy back to the utility company for a tidy profit. Whatever rum we don’t ship to one of our Santo Diablo’s is sold. When our first shipment went to Santo Diablo’s it quickly became a crowd favorite. Word got out and not only did we get more people coming to the clubs for Carioca, but it created a demand nationwide which we were happy to supply.
We built a large daycare facility for parents who had to bring a child or children to work. We paid slightly less than workers in another local distillery made, but we provided meals for all our workers and all the kids in daycare. There was fruit and juice (as well as coffee) for breakfast, fruit and sandwiches for lunch, and dinner consisted of vegetables, fruit, and a dish with meat in it. We also had one of Dr. Lederman’s constantly increasing number of interns stop by to check on the kids and workers each shift. They made sure that everyone got the full range of vaccinations and took care of any illnesses that came up. When the older children stopped by after school, some of them were given small jobs to do to help earn money for their family.
One of the smaller lots on the industrial property has a corrugated aluminum building that I had thrown together. Inside, three hundred women and girls from the favelas work all day making leather sandals with soles made from old tires. Originally, the sandals sold in the favelas because they were inexpensive and lasted longer than the cheap shoes sold in many of the stores. Gradually, they became a trendy item until I had to double the size of the factory and run three shifts of workers to keep up with demand. We also put in a day care center there, complete with three meals and medical care for the workers and their children. I had to laugh when I went back to the guy I bought the branding iron from, buying several dozen more to use to burn The Corporation logo into the leather of the sandals. We also earned quite a bit in licensing fees from a local company that made T-shirts with The Corporation logo on them.
Another large part of the property is taken up by our combined automotive businesses. Originally, I opened a hastily thrown together cinder block building that had two dozen individual stalls with roll-up doors. Inside each door was an area big enough for someone to work on a car. It was for the favela residents to use to be able to work safely on their run-down cars.
The constant need for replacement parts lead to opening a junkyard. The junkyard kept growing until we had to set up separate sections for each of the many different makes of cars most common in Rio. Eventually we had to use wannna-be mechanics to help strip salvageable parts from all the wrecked cars, building a large two-story warehouse in each section to hold the parts. The leftover hulks were smashed and the metal was recycled, being transported on trucks going to the sugar refinery where they were loaded onto empty flatcars and added to one of the daily trains.
The community garage was so successful that we had to open several more near the other favelas in the area, each twice as big as our original one. The need for more and more motors and transmissions lead to the next business as we built a large four-story plant where we re-built engines and transmissions ... and then starters and several other parts. Abel, our mechanic, was happy to let several of his mechanics quit so they could help us. He really had more than he needed, but they were so good that he didn’t want them as competition.
The mechanics trained crews how to take apart each type of transmission or engine and repair it and replace parts that needed replacing. Many of the favelas’ residents had a hard time affording even a rebuilt replacement engine or transmission. We worked out a deal where they or someone they knew would work off the debt by working in one of our automotive businesses. Since the designated worker was usually a teenage son or daughter, they had to wait until school was over for the day and could only work part-time. It usually took a few months to work off the debt, and by the time it was paid off, many decided to stay and work for pay, providing us with a steady source of employees for an expanding business.
The combined automotive businesses actually turned a profit each month, largely due to our sales of used or rebuilt parts to shops in town. They found out that we did a thorough job, making sure each rebuilt part was done properly, not just thrown together as quickly and as cheaply as possible. The fact that our electricity was free helped, too, since the entire area was lit up twenty-four hours a day for the three shifts of workers and any kids in the day care facility.
Everyone in my family agreed to come with us, but my sister’s husband was hesitant. He had a divorced sister and his parents who were still in the US. He was shocked when I told him that they’d be arriving at the hotel in an hour. He was even more shocked to find out that I had been the one who anonymously provided the money, attorney, and private investigator for his sister during her messy divorce. Her husband had been an abusive bastard, and it was only because of my help that she had managed to get the divorce and keep full custody of their daughter. None of them understood why he suddenly voluntarily admitted to everything in court, gave her the divorce, and gave up his parental rights.
My brother was just as shocked when I told him that he would be getting his four-year-old son back from his ex-wife. She had been a conniving bitch. She had seemed the devoted wife until he finally hit the big time as a stockbroker. She paid several women to testify that he’d been having affairs with them the entire time he was married to her. She cleaned him out, taking everything he had, including his son, his dignity, and his confidence. She had left him a shell of his former self.
I avenged him, though. She and all of the women who falsely testified against him were now working as porn stars for me. His son was in Rio, waiting for his father, and being spoiled rotten by all the women around him. Rick thought it was hilarious, and couldn’t quit laughing for almost ten minutes. I finally saw some of the old Rick come out while he was laughing. Later, he also enjoyed my suggestion that he might enjoy a rousing, involuntary fuck of his ex-wife and each of the women who had lied for her.
When I introduced him to Inga and Anja, I thought his eyes would pop out of his head. I had purposely chosen them to come with us to help babysit the kids. Both were tall, slender, small breasted blondes, Rick’s perfect woman. Anja was nineteen and Inga was sixteen, both completely legal in Brazil. For him, it was love at first sight, with both of them. The girls were honored that the brother of Crazy Larry would be so interested in them. Visions of marriage, or at least a family, danced through both of their heads.
I talked with them later, warning them that they were both likely to lose if they started bickering or fighting over him. He’d been through enough fighting with his ex that he’d walk away at the first hint of a spat. I suggested that perhaps they consider pooling their resources to entice him so that they both ended up happy, rather than take a chance that one or both would lose out. I also reminded both that they each had a younger sister they were watching out for, one that might even be interested in joining with them and their rich husband. Watching their faces, I was pretty sure that Rick was going to be a very happy camper.