93

ONE

As I sit here in my cell, I feel compelled to write down the events of my miserable life over the past long months. It is late at night and my cubicle is lit by a flickering pale light bulb, giving me just enough illumination to see my words as I scratch them on the cheap paper. Perhaps they will make their way back to the States and someone who knew me will come to get me. Yes and pigs can fly. I steal this brief moment to record my thoughts before they come to get me.

I pause and a shudder runs through my body. It is a combination of the chill that permeates the cell and the memory of the tortures that have been inflicted upon me. Small goose-bumps erupt on my naked flesh while I stare at the bare wall facing me. I kneel on the rough stone floor because there is no chair, no bed nor any furnishings other than some straw that I use as my crib. There is a metal collar around my neck and a chain that is attached to it connects me to a ring mounted in the wall above me. It allows me to lay down but prevents me from moving far from my current position. A lone drain in the corner serves as my toilet and the stench rising from it suggests that it is nothing more than a shallow hole. Rats are my companions and we fight each other for the meager plate of beans and tortillas that are shoved through the door each night.

I glance down and marvel at the hardness of my nipples. A sexuality that I never knew existed has come to my awareness since I arrived here at San Joaquin Prison. A sexuality that has been exploited beyond my wildest imagination. A sexuality that sometimes consumes me to the point that I am no more than an animal, seeking the stimulation that comes with complete abandonment. It seems that I stay In a constant state of arousal. But, first, let me describe the events that have brought me here to this stage.

My name is Denise Howard and I am a 29 year old from Cedar Rapids, Iowa. I was a victim of the massive layoffs that occurred in the demise of the dot.com companies. Unable to find any type of work that fit my education and training, I decided to take a year off and travel. I had managed to save most of what I had earned during the four years I worked for Safeguard Software. Fortunately, I had disposed of much of my stock options at the height of the boom and stashed the money into very safe investments. So I had no qualms about taking some time off and, since there were no current boyfriends, I decided an extended vacation was just what I needed. With plenty of money, I decided to tour Mexico.

I flew to Mexico City and bought a used VW bus and began to travel around the interior. I shopped at markets, stayed in small hostels and generally had a fantastic time. After three months of touring I stopped at a small town hundreds of miles south of the City, There I stopped for a few days to rest up. Seated at a small side walk café drinking a glass of wine, I was approached by a handsome young man.

'Perdone me, senorita," he said, "may I show you the sights of our beautiful city?"

I was a little taken back by his abruptness but sensed that he posed no particular threat to my well being. After all, this was the twentieth century, wasn't it. And we were on very good relations with Mexico. Besides, he was really good looking and it had been a long time since I had any type of male companionship.

"OK", I replied, "but I don't have much money." That was a lie but I sure didn't want him to know it.

"It's alright, I don't want any," he said. "You are very pretty and I would consider it a pleasure to escort you about."

I was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans with Mexican sandals. My long black hair was done in a French braid and I had very little makeup on. My figure has always drawn complements and I tend to dress to emphasize my prominent breasts. Consequently I was not wearing a bra and a quick glance revealed that he was staring at my pointed nipples protruding from the front of my shirt.

Slightly embarrassed, I asked, " Shouldn't I go change clothes?"

"No! No! Senorita! You look very nice and you will be completely at ease where we will be."

So, away we went. His name was Raul and he told me he had lived here all of his life. He was 25 years old and was a bartender at one of the local saloons. This was the first place we went so he could show off his good looking American novia. We had several Margaritas and I was beginning to feel quite a bit woozy. The next thing I knew, we were in the back room of the saloon, smoking grass and drinking. His arm was around me and I leaned into him, very relaxed and comfortable. When he pulled my T-shirt over my head, I stretched my arms up to make it easier and closed my eyes while his fingers stroked my rapidly hardening nipples.

I don't remember much of what happened after that. Some time later, I woke up laying in a bed naked and Raul was fucking me. I moaned as his cock slid in and out smoothly and grasped him to my breasts while raising my hips to meet his downward thrusts. The world was spinning out of control but all I knew was that the center of the universe was in my pussy. When the orgasm hit me, I cried out in obscene lust.

I felt Raul raise up from me and a cool breeze blew across my moist body. Dozing lightly, I lay there, absorbing the retreating sensations between my thighs when suddenly I felt another cock probing at my pussy. Someone other than Raul was on top of me and he plunged his meat into my soppy cunt and began to fuck me hard and fast. I struggled for a moment but desire overcame my resistance and I began to raise up again to meet his downward thrusts. My pussy clamped down on his cock, drawing it inside me until I cried out again in desire. I felt his prick throb and unload his cum inside me but he continued for several moments until he softened and withdrew.

Another took his place and at this point I was like a glutton at a buffet table. I couldn't get enough! I wrapped my legs around the man's body and bounced up and down in complete animalistic passion. His cock was thick and filled me like I'd never experienced before. I was delirious with lust and rode him frantically, seeking another orgasm.

When it came, I screamed at the top of my lungs with ecstasy. I could feel him shoot his load inside me and felt the semen dripping from the lips of my pussy onto my thighs. As his place as taken by another, I gripped the body above me and hugged it tight against me, grunting like a sow. A cock brushed against my lips and I instinctively opened my mouth to receive it. The smell of sweat filled my nose as pubic hairs were pressed against my face. I sucked and licked while another cock pistoned inside me. All thoughts of decency and modesty had long since been replaced by hunger and desire. It was like I had never been fucked before and couldn't get enough. The first part was false, the second part true. I felt the cock inside my mouth grow stiffer and I was soon drinking down his semen as spurt after spurt filled my mouth.

I was insatiable. Cock after cock filled my pussy and my mouth and I welcomed all of them. It was as if I was in a fantasy land of sex and I couldn't get enough.

At some point during the night, I passed out from exhaustion. When I awoke, the faint light of sunrise was peeking through a window at the end of the bed. Every muscle in my body screamed in objection as I attempted to sit up. I fell back in the bed and rubbed my forehead. My mouth ached and tasted like shit. The brief glimpse I had of myself revealed a body covered with dried semen. My pussy ached but it was a good ache and I sighed as I recalled the sensations of the previous night.

I had no idea where I was but one thing was for sure. I needed to get dressed and get out of here. With effort I sat up and surveyed my surroundings.

The room I was in was bare except for the bed I lay on. A single sheet, soaked in sweat and semen, covered the mattress. My clothes were nowhere to be seen. I stood and walked over to the window and looked out. I was on the second floor of a building that overlooked the town square. There were people moving about, preparing for the day's work. I cursed silently at Raul for leaving me without any clothes and wondered how I was going to get back to my hotel.

The problem was solved, I thought, when there was a knock on the door. Assuming it was Raul bringing me back my clothes, I opened it tentatively and peeked outside. I was thrown back as the door was flung open and two huge policemen entered the room. I hurriedly grabbed the sheet off of the bed and wrapped myself in it as they stared hungrily at my nude body.

"What do you want?", I asked, nervously.

"You are under arrest, Senorita! Come with us, immediately!"

"Arrest? Why? What have I done?"

"You are a punta ! A whore! Prostitution is illegal!"

"No!", I cried, "You're wrong! I am not a whore!"

"You must come with us! Now!"

I saw that I had little choice but to obey and felt certain that I could explain my presence in the room without any clothes. Wrapping the sheet tightly about me and grimacing as the sweat and semen clung to my body, I followed the two policemen out to their car. We drove a few blocks to the local police station where I was taken inside. They put me in a small cell and told me to wait.

I waited for the entire day and then it became night and I still waited. I called out several times but no one came. Exhausted, thirsty and hungry, I lay down on the small cot in the cell and soon fell asleep.

I was awakened early the next morning by a young Mexican dressed in a suit that was too big for his body. He carried a brief case and entered my cell with an air of importance.

"I have been appointed as your lawyer. You will stand trial this afternoon on the charges of prostitution. I recommend that you plead guilty. If you do, you will be fined a small amount and released. Otherwise, if you plead innocent, the court may sentence you to prison."

I was stunned at his remarks. Prison! But I was innocent!

"I don't want to plead guilty of anything!" I cried. "I haven't done anything wrong!"

"As you wish. I brought you a dress to wear at your trial. I will see you this afternoon."

The dress he gave me was the worst thing I could possibly wear to a trial for prostitution. It was some kind of cheap material and was blazing red. The hem barely came below my butt and the front dipped precariously, exposing much of my breasts. Whether by design or oversight, he had failed to include any underwear. Nevertheless, it was a lot better than going with a sheet wrapped around me, so I put it on.

The prosecuting attorney described how the police had heard reports of my lasciviousness and found me naked with a sheet that bore tell-tale remnants of a night of depravity. Evidence of marijuana was found in the room, along with several empty whisky bottles. He also told of searching my hotel room and finding large amounts of money which obviously I had earned by spreading my legs for all comers. I pleaded with my attorney to find the young man named Raul but he said there was no one who worked at the saloon by that name. He was as anxious as the prosecutor and judge to get things over with. I hung my head in despair as the judge pronounced sentence. Two years in the San Joaquin Prison! Then the words that sent an icy knife down my spine.

"As additional punishment for your wanton and immoral behavior I also sentence you to receive 20 strokes of the whip, to be administered in the town square as deterrent to those who would practice your depraved occupation."

I was stunned! This was beyond my comprehension that in this day and time such cruel and unusual punishment be administered for what would seem the simplest of crimes! I tried to speak but words wouldn't come from my throat I was so shocked. In a stupor I felt my arms drawn behind my back and cuffs wrapped around my wrists. As the crowd in the courtroom buzzed with anticipation of my punishment, I was led back to my cell.

The next morning they came to get me. A sour looking woman who wore the same uniform as the policemen handed me a course woven outfit that barely covered my body. The dress I had worn for the trial was taken from me, folded neatly and placed in a sack; presumably to be given to the next poor soul that happened to fall into the clutches of this town's police. My wrists were once again handcuffed behind my back and I was led from the cell by the same two policemen who had first arrested me.

I was led out of the police station and across the street to the town square, where a stand had been erected in the center. Atop the stand were two posts set some six feet apart and handcuffs attached to short lengths of chain hung from the top of each. Crushed by the enormity of my situation, I was led up a short flight of steps to the top of the platform and positioned between the two posts. My wrists were released briefly before having my arms raised and the handcuffs hanging from the posts enclosing them. When my arms were raised, the hem of my makeshift dress rose with them, exposing my sex for everyone to see. I stood silently, staring out at the crowd of people who had risen early to watch my castigation. They hung a sign around my neck that said " Punta!" Whore!

As I scanned the crowd of would-be sadists I saw a familiar face smiling up at me. It was Raul! The entire plot suddenly exploded in my mind as I understood what had happened. Raul (or whatever his name was) had pimped me! Then he had notified the police so that I wouldn't come looking for him. As I glared down at him, he grinned and held up my T-shirt. I shuddered with anger and the crowd took it as a sign of fright. A cheer rose as a heavily built man, wearing a mask that covered the top of his head down to his mouth joined me on the stage. His massive chest was bare save for the curly black hair that covered it. In his hand, he held a coiled whip that made me tremble when I saw it.

I was taken back by the number of women in the crowd who seemed just as eager as the men to see me tortured. I suppose sadism knows no gender but it only served to heighten my sense of degradation.

In the course of events over the past few days and hours, my hair had fallen loose and hung in disarray over my shoulders and down my back. I felt the man's hand gather it and toss it over my shoulder. Then he grabbed the cloth at the back of my neck and ripped it in one easy motion, baring my back to my waist. I began to tremble uncontrollably and my legs grew weak while tears began to run down my cheeks. How could this be happening to me?

Then the whip struck. My breath left my lungs in one huge gasp as my body surged forward from the blow.. The pain started in my lower back and quickly spread all over me until I thought my brain would explode. I sucked in a giant breath of air, only to expel it once again as the second stroke buried into my flesh.

I was bucking furiously within the constraints allowed me, kicking my legs frantically in a vain attempt to dispel the pain. My back felt as if a blow torch had been held against it. I twisted and turned, trying to escape but only managed to receive the third stroke in a position that allowed the tip of the whip to bury itself in my right breast. If I thought the first two strokes were painful, I was now in excruciating agony. I threw back my head and screamed as the fourth stroke crossed my back just below my shoulders, sending another bolt of pain through my body.

The man paused for a moment and the pain built and built while I whimpered and wailed to the delight of the attentive crowd. Just as I was beginning to recover, the lash resumed its work, sending three more strokes against my throbbing flesh and sending me into a paroxysm of anguish. The leather whip cut through the thin cloth and I was now virtually naked. Encouraged by the appeals of the crowd, the man finished the task and grabbed the front of my clothing and ripped it from me. I hung naked before a hundred strangers but my embarrassment was slight compared to the pain that surged through my body.

The executioner resumed his efforts and I was soon twisting and screaming as he applied the lash to my naked body. At some point, I lost control of my bladder and a stream of urine ran down my legs to the delight of the assembled masses. I would lose consciousness and be revived with ammonia, only to endure unbearable agony once more. I lost track of the number of strokes but when he had finished, I was hanging limply by my wrists. Sweat dripped from my body and my flesh burned with a thousand fires.

My wrists were freed and I fell to the floor, unable to support myself. I felt hands lift me by my arms and drag me from the platform and back across the street to the jail. I was dragged, naked and crying back to my cell and tossed inside where I lay, sobbing in despair. At that moment, I yearned for death but even that was denied me. The nightmare was only beginning.