Chapter 1

PREVIOUSLY...

If you have not read the previous posting of Guinevere's Travels you may want to start there. This is a continuation of the previous story. Gwen was married to Joe. She left him after testifying against him in Federal Court about his taxes. Under the witness protection program, she fled to Mijas, Spain. It is a very small city at the foothills of the mountains. She and her daughter started a café. Some criminals discovered her and are abusing her. In return for her sexual favors, they are offering their silence.

THE STORY OPENS:

Guinevere is devastated that she was not able to protect her daughter better. She had desperately offered to submit to their sexual demands in return for their silence and promise to avoid contact with her daughter, Stephanie. That had not worked out. Gino, Enzo and Amo had had their way with both of them. It did not appear to be over.

The next day, Stephanie and Gwen had opened their Café, hoping the bastards had left the town and they could continue with their lives. The men had found their stash of savings, fake ID's, credit cards, driver's licenses and taken everything. They had no way of running and getting across any borders.

Stephanie came out early in the morning to wait on the tourists; serving coffee, muffins, pastries and their greatest ingredient they were known for; her innocent enthusiasm. The old men were intrigued with the effervescent fourteen-year-old. Her enchanting innocence was captivating. They were all in love with her.

Today, though, things seemed to be different. She and her mother seemed distant; edgy; very reserved; guarded. They smiled, but the sparkle in their eyes was not there. Soon, the big black Mercedes parked at the bottom of the hill. Slowly, Stephanie saw the black Armani suits come into view. Like three mounted figures out of Clint Eastwood spaghetti western, they appeared; small in the distant, and growing over the mirrored mirage in the dust. The ominous silhouettes came into focus.

The three men sat down at the farthest picnic table. Stephanie waited on everybody else first. When the breakfast crowd thinned, she walked warily over to see what they wanted. Surely they would not dare pull what they did the previous evening; it was broad daylight and other people would be coming by.

"How can I help you gentlemen?" Stephanie spoke woodenly; without a smile; without enthusiasm and her lower lip trembling. Nothing could wipe out her memory of being naked; bound; on her knees in front of each of them being sprayed in her mouth, eyes and face with that hot, slimy blast of semen. Nothing could ever blot out the memory of that taste; that odor.

"Good morning, Miss Stephanie. You look absolutely spectacular. Nobody would be able to look at you and know you just sucked my cock a few hours ago. Are you and your mom ready for more?"

Stephanie was devastated. The words hit her like an anvil. The association brought out in words was more than she could bear. She was a cocksucker. This was the worst term a young girl could be called in her circles.

"What do you want?" she asked nervously.

Gwen saw them coming from her location in the front door. She could tell from her daughter's slumping shoulders that she was under stress. Gwen walked over quickly to protect her daughter from whatever was about to happen.

"What's going on here? Haven't you men done enough to us? I thought you men were going to leave. I thought we had a deal. I did what you wanted. We both gave you what you asked for. Please leave. I'm begging you to please leave us alone. Gwen tried to hide her trembling, but couldn't. Gino sensed her fear.

"My dear Miss Guinevere, we had such a good time last night, there's no way we could leave two women as beautiful as the two of you. By being silent and taking all of your money, we are still a long way short of collecting the reward on the two of you. We figure you still owe us." Gwen was silent. What more could she do?

We are going to change the theme of your Café a little bit. You can be open Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and run this place as you want. The money will all be yours. You will post your hours on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday as "Closed for Private Party." You will still operate the Café, but we will furnish the customers. We can add a few more tables on the roof. It is a concrete slab with high enough parapets, that they will offer some privacy because you are the highest house. Only a few curious kids playing in the hills above will notice.

We will tell you what to wear. It probably won't be the same every evening. The men will be our friends from Marbella, so you will still have a certain amount of anonymity here in town. We have some space in Marbella too. We may want to have you work in Marbella. The tourists and businessmen are much wealthier there. Stephanie will be serving the food. Guinevere, you will be serving the food and also be the hostess. You will sit and talk to the men while they eat. You will both be pleasant and accommodating. If you don't we have recorded your performance last night and will pass everything on to your husband's business associates back home. It can be done in seconds through the internet.

There was no discussion. There was no compromise. That was it. The men left a big tip for the tea they had, stood and left.

Guinevere sobbed. Stephanie cradled her mother's head against her to comfort her. It was harder on Guinevere because she felt responsible for the protection of her fourteen-year-old daughter. Stephanie had no options other than being the innocent pawn being savaged.

Tuesday, the men returned; parking covertly at the bottom of the hill. Actually, they were very close. They had parked in front of the residence just below Guinevere's. There were some steps from there right up the hill to her house. Just to be more secretive, they took the long way back to the town entrance and then up the hill so nobody would notice a continuous flow of men up to Guinevere's Café.

The three men came up and sat at the picnic table closest to the hose. The old man in the Volkswagen truck had delivered three more picnic tables and umbrellas that afternoon. They had placed them on the roof.

The men gave each of the women a Bluetooth device to hook on their ears. They would be given instructions through the evening, but were to appear to be on their own initiative. They were given a series of instructions. As the evening came, and the sun started to set, a group of three more men in Pierre Cardin suits could be seen arriving in a limousine at the town entrance. They made a call on their cell phone. They were directed by Gino to the house. When they got there, they knocked on the door. Stephanie opened the door to greet them. She was naked. She was wearing her high-heeled suede boots that zipped up the sides and stopped just below her knees. She had on dark silk stockings that went to her crotch. Her vulva had been shaved bald.

"Good evening gentlemen. We have been expecting you. I will escort you to the patio where you will be able to see the sunset. Have any of you been to Mijas before?" Stephanie spoke with a forced smile. It was not in her, but she knew her mother's welfare probably depended on it. She was humiliated to greet the clothed strangers while naked. Her double strand of pearls swayed as she walked with her arm hooked into the leaders. Stephanie's medium melon sized breasts bobbled in time with her clip clop over the honed tile pavers as she led them through the house and up the stairs to the rooftop patio. She seated them. "What would you gentlemen like to drink to start the evening with?" Her smile seemed genuine. The men could see she was trying. That was good enough they thought.

"My name is Aldo. My name is Carlo. My name is Eduardo." The three men waved in a weak greeting. "I think we would just like to have three cans of American Beer if you have it." Carlo said. Stephanie turned and went down the stairs.

The men sat there admiring the setting sun as they sat there. It wasn't dark yet. They heard the clip, clip, clip of another set of high heels coming up the stairs. This wasn't the same as Stephanie's. These were a little heavier. They could sense the unsteadiness. They could sense the hesitation. They could sense the apprehension.

The figure came into view slowly as it came up the stairs. First they saw the color of the reddish brown hair. Then they saw the wire rimmed glasses. Then they saw the start of the fishtail braid that hung down her left side. Then they saw her naked breasts with the alabaster white orbs that looked just like Stephanie. They have to be sisters, they thought. Those long-stemmed pink nipples were unique. Nowhere had they ever seen nipples so long or so pink out of such small areoles.

Her nipples whipped up and down and side to side in opposition to the flexing and relaxing of the cheeks of her butt. Her double strand of pearls whipped slightly from side to side. Guinevere tried desperately to mask her terror with a forced soft smile. Her boots and black silk stockings made her and her daughter look like mirror images. She tried desperately to ignore the fact that she was naked. Her vulva had been completely shaved. The cool evening breeze made it impossible for her to completely blot out her nakedness.

"Good evening gentlemen. My name is Guinevere. This is my daughter's and my Café. We want you to feel welcome here this evening. Are you enjoying the sunset?" Guinevere stood behind the one open chair as she spoke. After they assured her they were enjoying the view, she turned according to the voice in her ear that came from Gino, sitting in the distant corner out of sight. She took a torch and lit the patio lights. She came back and lit the candles on their table.

By then, Stephanie was back with the drinks; three cans of beer. She placed them in front of the men and stood back, waiting for more instructions. "Where's your beer?" You ladies don't think we are going to drink alone do you?"

Stephanie looked at her mother, stunned. Gwen bowed her head in defeat and nodded slightly. Stephanie disappeared and returned with two beers. She placed them on the table. The two women were standing. There were four seats and three of them were taken.

Carlo handed one beer to Stephanie and put his arm around her waist. He guided her to sit on his lap. He spread his legs so that Stephanie was sitting on his right thigh, left leg draped over his left leg, and her right leg on the ground. Carlo took her left arm and swung it around his neck. This brought her long pink nipples up next to his lips. He nestled his left hand between her legs. Stephanie self consciously tried to cover the invading fingers with the can in her right hand.

Her lip quivered in humiliation as she felt the first finger searching for the moist opening. She had no alternative but to spread her legs to receive the marauding invasion. She tried not to wince as the second one tried to enter. She pressed down with her hand against his to decrease her discomfort.