Chapter 3

If the Madrid leadership of the CNT were facilating, it was the same for the Popular Front Government. As the second day of the revolt dragged on it began to dawn on them the extent of the revolt in Barcelona. The Communists called for decisive action, but Largo Cabalero seemed overwhelmed into inaction. He refused to order Army units away from the front. Instead, he reluctantly authorised the despatch of more Assault Guards. Meanwhile, the Communists took the initiative, sending their two brigades backed by Russian NKVD troops. These came down from the Ebro to dig in before Terrassa in support of the PSUC militia.

The Jose Martys and the 5th Regiment had about a dozen Russian KV1 tanks, but these would take at least a day to reach Terrassa. In the event, the situation on the Ebro delayed their departure for several days and they never did see action against the rebels.

Instead they acquired the services of a Catalan artillery battery, equipped with the ubiquitous and ancient French Model 11 75mm gun. By nightfall on the 4th, the Catalans began a desultory artillery dual with the CNT/POUM's guns.

The experienced Communist troops, though, weren't about to storm Terrassa across open ground against well-protected positions. Instead they began a slow strangulation of the city, taking over all major routes into Barcelona. The agricultural collectives of the CNT felt the full weight of the PCE's fury as, one after another, the Communists raided the villages, extracting a terrible revenge. Certainly the accounts were later exaggerated, but, by even the standards of the Civil War, there was a great deal of brutality. Andres Nin was powerless to prevent it. For the CNT/POUM to sorte would be just what the Communists wanted.

Instead, he called Luis Companys to find out the Government's demands. These were quick to arrive, and no doubt direct from the Russians via the PCE. To whit, the CNT and POUM were to be disarmed and to accept conscription to the regular Republican Army. All industrial and agricultural collectives were to be broken up and either returned to their Capitalist owners or to the care of the Government. Companys intimated that warrants were being prepared for the arrest of the POUM leadership. No mention was made of the CNT's committees. Presumably they were considered mere dupes of the 'treacherous' POUM. Obviously the demands would not be acceptable.

By dawn of the 5th of May some 11,000 Communists and 4000 Assault guards were dug in around Terrassa. And digging nearer the CNT/POUM's lines. Arriving from Valencia, Ferrer de la Garcia and Federica Montseny of the CNT's Valencia leadership called a meeting of the Supreme Joint Response Committee to try and persuade them to lay down their arms. The Committee's bottom line, however, was a demand that the Government not interfere in the Catalonian 'revolution.' The sides were wide apart and even Andres Nin couldn't move the committee nearer the Government's wishes. It was plain the Communists were calling the Government's shots and only the complete capitulation of the CNT/POUM was acceptable. Frantically, Nin called Companys to intercede witb Largo Cabalero but the Prime Minister was incommunicado. He must have known, then, that their revolution was doomed.

Benin was on her knees beside John on the bed. She had her beautiful arse facing him as she slowly worked her mouth up and down on his stiff cock. Although her trousers were loose fitting, in the fashion of the time, nevertheless they stretched tight over her rump as she bobbed.

Impulsively, John slapped it. Benin jerked, her mouth coming off him. Looking behind her, she exclaimed, "hey!" But there was excitment in her eyes and a smile on her face. He slapped her again, a little harder. "Y'want me to bite you?" she asked, laughing. Her hand was still wrapped around his penis.

"No!" he replied, apprehensively.

It had been quite awhile since she'd been slapped on the bottom. Her Mother used to punish her that way when she was a child. But at 18 she'd had a relationship with an older man who'd liked doing that to her. It was the only aspect of that liason, she recalled, that she enjoyed. That, and the presents of money and jewelry he'd occasionally give her.

People who'd pass judgement on her, must remember what it was like to be destitute, she thought. 'Morality' was fine for those that could afford it, and doubly difficult for women with almost no other opportunity to earn an independent income.

Signor Garcia was in his forties, married, and the Father of one of her friends. He used to flirt with her and the other girls but took particular interest in Benin. 'My wild Begonia, ' he used to call her. She was flattered. He was a nice man, albeit lonely.

One afternoon he'd been drinking. Benin had called to see if her friend wanted to go to the park, but she'd gone to Villafranca with her Mother to visit an old Aunt. Signor Garcia asked Benin to sit with him as he was lonely and depressed. She'd obliged him, listening to him ramble on about his life. She didn't mind, she felt 'grown up, ' even though she didn't really understand most of what he was on about.

"My wife Juana," he went on, "doesn't understand... a man has needs and desires... is old fashioned, very Catholic, you understand."

Benin wasn't so innocent that she didn't catch that drift of conversation. She felt a little embarrassed, true, but curious at the same time. "Your such a sweet girl," he continued, "beautiful and passionate. Are you passionate, Benin? I can tell that answer already. I see... in your eyes..." He continued in much the same way until he suggested she share some wine with him.

After she began to feel a little woozy from the alcohol, Signor Garcia then asked her if she had a boyfriend, was she a virgin and whether she'd let boys 'touch' her. He began to snort, not unlike 'the Father' when the priest had molested her 4 years ago. But this time Benin didn't feel revulsion. She felt sorry for the depressed man and wanted to cheer him up. It was then he'd offered her 5 pesetas as a 'gift' if she'd do something for him. By then, of course, she understood what that something was.

"Just a little playing," he'd insisted, "I don't want to 'ruin' you." By that he meant he didn't want to have full sex with her. Benin was relieved, she wasn't sure she wanted to go that far.

He'd kissed and cuddled her for a bit, rather kindly and gently. Unlike 'the Father, ' he didn't grope and probe her. Later, he took her into the bedroom, took off his pants, and got her to kneel between his legs as he sat on the bed. Benin knew what he wanted her to do. She done it before with a boyfriend. Unlike her boyfriend, however, Signor Garcia had washed himself with a flannel beforehand. She was touched by that little consideration.

The man hand grunted and snorted as she sucked his cock. He played with her hair and held her head gently with the palm of his hand. After a while he lifted her off him and, grinning, told her she was 'naughty' and needed to be punished. Benin was calmed by his playful expression.

He laid her across his knee after hitching up her skirt and pulling down her knickers. At his insistance, she reached under and held his cock in her fist while he tapped her lightly on the bare bottom. As he grew more excited, his slapping increased in tempo and harshness until Benin felt his warm sticky fluid splattering over her tummy and on her fingers. The Signor was panting like a locomotive and beads of sweat ran down from his brow.

Benin's arse felt warm after the beating, but not altogether unpleasantly. She'd wished the man had kept going, maybe rubbing his fingers between her legs after each stroke, but the Signor was done. Almost appologetically, he'd kissed her on the cheek before retrieving his pants. He'd then sworn her to secrecy. Benin agreed readily.