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Chapter 53 Tango Assassination
“Whiskey,” said Stacy when the waiter asked for her order. It was Saturday night and she was seated at a table in Buenos Aires’s most upscale tango bar.
Even by the relaxed standards of Argentina’s most cosmopolitan city she was dressed to attract attention. The Saturday before, Portia and she had taken a commuter flight to LaGuardia then spent hours searching through Manhattan’s designer boutiques before they selected her skirt and top. The low rider tango skirt barely covered her pubic mound and appeared perilously suspended on her well-tanned hipbones. When she danced, the slit came within a fraction of an inch of exposing her sex. The silk top bared her midriff along with her shoulders and back. That combined with the cool night air announced she was not wearing a brassiere or for that matter any underwear.
Stacy’s hair was swept up and back in the style preferred by tango aficionados. Two diamond crusted pins secured it to the top. Matching rings and bracelets signaled a wealthy American girl seeking adventure in the birthplace of the tango.
“You look like a fucking movie star. Damn, I’ve got to quit using the F-word. I said it in front of Sir Charles yesterday and he promised the next time he heard me curse he was going to put me on the cross and whip my tits until they bled,” said Portia when Stacy was finished dressing. They were in one of the private bungalows of a five star hotel.
“And to think I starred in Stacy Does Cambridge wearing only a garter belt and hose,” said Stacy checking her make-up. Stacy, Portia, and Simone had spent the afternoon in the hotel’s spa getting prepared for tonight.
“I wish I looked that good as a girl,” said Alex who had been watching Stacy dress. “Can I borrow your outfit sometime?”
“Of course, you can, Alexandra. But it will cost you a fuck,” said Stacy smiling. Everyone was working a bit too hard to keep the mood relaxed. There was serious and dangerous business at hand.
“Mind the F-word,” said Portia once more checking the clip in her semi-automatic.
Stacy arrived at the club in an armored Mercedes Benz limousine chauffeured by Reynolds and Simone. In a typical South American city of extreme disparities of wealth, Stacy was playing the role of a wealthy tourist mad enough for the tango to fly five thousand miles to the tip of the continent. Other members of her team drove to the tango bar in a bulletproof Range Rover. Portia and Alex had arrived unfashionably early and were seated at a table toward the back of the club when Stacy made her appearance.
While Stacy waited for her drink, she watched couples dance. The music was slow and sensuous. Listen to the music and let it fill your soul had been her instructor’s advice. During the weeks of preparation she’d spent countless hours learning the Milonguero Style of the tango. Club Josephine had hired one of the dance’s most knowledgeable couples to instruct her. Stacy was already an excellent dancer and knew the American or salon tango but Tango Argentina was different.
“You only have six weeks and she must be better than good,” said Sir Charles to Osvaldo and Lucia when they were discussing her training in his office.
“Girls in Argentina learn tango in their cribs. We can only do so much in six weeks,” said Osvaldo dispiritedly.
“I know salon tango,” offered Stacy.
“Tango Argentina is very different. It takes years to develop the perfect sense of rhythm required of a Milonguera dancer,” said Osvaldo dismissively.
“Sir Charles, if Stacy is as good a dancer as you say, she should be able to master all the basics in that time,” said Lucia giving her husband a look to shut him up. The money he had offered was badly needed and she did not want Sir Charles to look elsewhere for Stacy’s instruction.
Osvaldo and Lucia had been incredibly demanding instructors leaving Stacy exhausted after each lesson. But she learn the subtle differences of the Milonguero Style and how to dance as a Milonguera, a girl who frequented the tango bars dancing with any man who asked her and just as easily sleeping with him.
She practiced in their small studio located just across the harbor from Boston in Chelsea, an urban ghetto of Latin American immigrants. On weekends they took her to a local tango club where she danced with dozens of different men. Old, young, fat, thin, she was told to refuse no one. As a Milonguera, she was not allowed to object when her partners put their hands in places they shouldn’t. Stacy danced for hours with strange men who pawed her body on the dark dance floor.
“The feeling of air rushing across your pussy as you dance is essential,” said Lucia who had forbidden her underwear.
On her second visit to the club, Lucia asked one of the male dancers to take Stacy in the back of the club and teach her to screw Milonguera style. After they danced, he walked her into the dark hallway and shoved her up against the wall. It was late and the narrow passage was filled with other couples making love. The sweet smell of sex filled the humid air.
He whispered instructions on how she was to stand and act during what he called tango sex. Her partner was handsome and virile and she orgasmed the moment she felt him enter her.
“Stand on one leg. Wrap the other around the back of my neck,” said the man.
“Like this,” asked Stacy raising her leg to vertical then resting the calf across the back of his neck. Her skirt slipped down her leg exposing her sex. He placed his hand on her buttock supporting her.
“Yes, now take my cock out,” said the man his fingers parting her sex. She moaned as he pushed his long slender fingers into her, finding her opening and invading. His thumb her clit causing her to gasp in pain. He wasn’t gentle about it.
Stacy unzipped his slacks and reached in for his cock. She wrapped her hand around the base of his manhood, her fingers gently caressing his balls. Immediately she felt the flesh begin to harden. They kissed as their hands brought each other’s passion to a boil.
“Now, put me inside you, puta,” said the man moving his other hand to her buttocks, lifting her slightly. The tips of his fingers reached into the crack of her ass.
Stacy managed to position the cockhead in her opening. She stood on her toes as she used the leg behind his neck to lift her. The man had given her all the help he intended. It was up to the Milonguera to fuck the man. Stacy’s lithe and powerful body proved equal to the task.
“Oh fucking yes,” exhaled Stacy as he entered her body. She intensified the sensation contracting her core, focusing on the cylinder of alien flesh reaching into her womb. They stood motionless engaged in a long moment of passionate kissing.
“Now, slow-slow-quick-quick-slow,” said the man instructing Stacy to follow the rhythm of the tango as she fucked him.
Other couples were so close Stacy was touching the bare shoulder of the woman beside her. He finished in her when the music ended then walked away without a word.
“Let me feel you,” said Lucia when she returned to their table. Stacy didn’t object when Lucia’s hand reached under her skirt to grope her sex. Her long slender fingers easily slide inside Stacy.
“Good, your pussy is hot as a Milonguera should be. The tango should build a fire in your cunt that only the presence of a dancer’s cock can put out.”
From that night on, when Stacy visited the club, she followed the late evening practice of allowing her partners to take her into the back and finish the dance with their cock in her.
Stacy’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the target. She had never met Arturo Ontiveroes-Aredondo, the head of the largest Mexican drug cartel. She had carefully studied the thick dossier detailing the life and crimes of the most brutal and savage of the Border States drug lords. The fact he was a fanatical devotee of the tango and frequently flew to Buenos Aires had brought her there.
“Shit,” whispered Stacy to herself as she saw the beautiful dark haired girl on Arturo’s arm. Who the hell is she wondered Stacy aware that on the two previous nights, Arturo had arrived accompanied only by his omnipresent trio of security guards. Still, he will ask me to dance decided Stacy because I’m a better dancer than her, whoever she is.
Stacy was following Sir Charles advice to maintain a positive attitude. Stacy also recalled from his file that Arturo, who grew up desperately poor in a Chihuahua slum, had a preference for tall American blondes who came from money.
“It’s a typical male ego thing,” was how Portia characterized it. “Fucking rich Americans proves he’s just as good as the people he envied growing up.”
Arturo and the girl took a seat at the table beside Stacy’s. Stacy’s waiter immediately rushed over to get his order. The guards were seated behind him at a separate table. Stacy knew the three were not cartel thugs but ex British SAS under contract from one of the global security companies dedicated to keeping in Sir Charles words, the scum of the earth alive.
After the recent arrivals were seated and served, Stacy decided it was time. She signaled for her waiter.
“I would like to dance with Senor Norberto,” said Stacy.
“I am sorry, Senora, but Senor Norberto is an artist, a performer, he does not dance with tourists,” said the waiter.
“I am willing to pay,” said Stacy placing five one hundred dollar bills on the table. “And the Senor will not be disappointed. I have studied the Milonguero Style with Osvaldo and Lucia Mendez.”
“I will ask the Master,” said the waiter taking the money.
***
“Senorita,” said Norberto extending his hand to the beautiful American girl. Norberto Nievez normally danced only with professional tango dancers. However, five hundred American dollars was compensation enough to justify an exception. He was acknowledged as one of tango’s most innovative and skilled practitioners.
Showtime said Stacy to herself as she placed her hand in his. In one graceful motion, she stood up and twirled onto the dance floor as the music started. Stacy was aware that the floor had emptied. Everyone had stopped to watch wondering if the American could dance well enough to merit having Norberto as her partner.
Five minutes later, they had their answer as the dance ended to loud applause.
“Would you do me the honor once more,” asked Norberto. In asking her to dance again, he was informing the audience he approved of her dancing. When Stacy assented to his request, he turned around and told the orchestra what to play.
Six minutes later, it was over. Norberto had kissed her hand and left.
“Senorita, please,” asked Arturo standing at her table when she returned.
Stacy took Arturo’s hand and stepped onto the dance floor with the most feared man in all of Mexico.
“Arturo Ontiveroes-Aredondo,” said Arturo introducing himself in the few seconds before the music started.
“Stacia Goddard,” said Stacy.
“You dance extremely well for an American,” said Arturo.
“And what part of the world, are you from Senor Aredondo?”
“Nuevo Laredo, Mexico, I am a poor peasant with a deep love of the tango,” said Arturo.
“Was it not the great Mexican dictator, Porfiro Diaz, who said Poor Mexico, so far from God and so close to the United States,” asked Stacy?
“I can see you are a student of Mexican history,” said Arturo.
“And what other first impressions of me are you willing to share?”
“Beautiful, rich, bored, and one who loves the tango and can dance like no one I have seen in a while,” said Arturo.
The music began ending further conversation. After two dances, Arturo invited Stacy to sit at his table and she accepted. He introduced her to Isabella.
“Would you like to dance,” asked Stacy extending an invitation to Isabella? Dancing with your own sex was common in the tango bars. Stacy knew the tango originated in the brothels of Buenos Aires as a dance men danced with other men, while waiting for a prostitute to become available.
Stacy had a vivid memory of the time that Lucia decided the two of them should dance together.
“Go somewhere, Osvaldo. I am going to dance with Stacia alone,” said Lucia.
“Putanas,” muttered Osvaldo as he left for the café next door where he and his friends mulled over the lack of morals among the women of his adopted country.
“Don’t mind Osvaldo. Take off your clothes, except for your shoes,” said Lucia after Osvaldo departed.
Stacy slipped out of her brief costume. She had been practicing for over two hours. She was covered in perspiration. For the last hour, Lucia had been her instructor. Stacy had noticed a sexual tension building between the two of them. Lucia had spent considerable time demonstrating exactly how she was to straddle her partner’s outstretched leg and slide her body downward before stepping to the side.
“It’s an incredible feeling,” Stacy had informed Portia. It’s like her cunt lips are wrapped around your leg. You can almost feel them holding onto both sides of your knee.”
“That’s physically impossible but an incredibly erotic thought. Show me,” said Portia. After several demonstrations, the two of them had tumbled into bed for a passionate exchange of oral sex.
“My sister taught me how to dance pussy to pussy when I was first learning tango,” said Lucia pulling Stacy into a position where their bare sexes were touching. Stacy’s large breasts were resting against Lucia’s almost flat chest. “Now, we synchronize our breaths so we dance as one.”
The lesson had ended with the two of them slipping to the floor to pleasure each other orally.
***
“Hand me my laptop, please,” said Sir Charles to Portia the day before they were to depart for Buenos Aires. She and Stacy were in bed with Sir Charles. It was a post coital moment and they were snuggled up relaxing on each side to the English lord. Sundays, Sir Charles found time to have sex with his two interns who were fascinated with his prodigious organ and eager to experience its plumbing of their depths.
They had asked Simone how it came to be so huge and what caused the scaring; but Simone had replied she didn’t know and had never had the nerve to ask
“If he wanted me to know he would have told me,” said Simone indicating she didn’t want to discuss it further. “I once heard when he finished Oxford he went off to Africa to fight as a mercenary. He was captured and tortured by the rebels. They burned his cock with hot coals. But it might be just a rumor.”
“It is not only the longest and thickest; it is the most stimulating because of the uneven surface. Some of the scars are from surgery and others do appear to be burns,” said Portia when she and Stacy were alone late one Sunday afternoon after spending the morning with Sir Charles determining which sexual position maximized penetration.
“The raised scar tissue gives it a unique feeling when it is inside your vagina. It’s similar to one of those French ticklers that Monk and Les used,” said Stacy recalling their recent tryst with their two fellow students.
“Look what we got from this dude who just got back from Amsterdam,” said Monk displaying a handful of brightly colored condoms whose head was covered with a profusion of rubbery nodules in different shapes.
“French ticklers,” said Portia.
“You know about these,” asked Les sounding a little disappointed he wasn’t showing Portia something new?
“Yes, but I’ve never had one of those wrapped around a Prince Albert. What do you think, Stacy?”
“They look very interesting,” said Stacy pulling her top off. “Let’s give them a try.”
Moments later, Stacy and Portia were lying on the bed with Monk and Les between their legs poised for entry.
“Definitely different,” moaned Stacy as the French Ticker stimulated the lining of her vagina.
She and Portia had spent the next several hours trying different ticklers until an exhausted Monk and Les announced they were fucked dry and needed to call for pizza delivery.
“True and even more amazing to me are the quantity and flavor of Sir Charles’ semen. A well-hydrated man in his prime produces maybe a couple of tablespoons. One time back in Trenton I blew this skinny guy who all the girls were talking about; they nicknamed him Big Gulp. I’d say he was maybe a fourth of a cup,” said Portia.
“I believe the flavor is related to his consumption of strawberries. He told me they’re his favorite fruit. But they’re not the kind you buy in a grocery store. Lady Elspeth grows them in a hothouse on their country estate,” said Stacy.
“Volume wise, I’d estimate Sir Charles is at least half a cup maybe more. Sometimes it’s so much it leaks out the corners of my mouth,” said Portia.
“And it all comes in a single shot, not a series of squirts. Sir Charles has a truly unique ejaculation,” said Stacy.
“You looked so cute this afternoon with your cheeks all puffed out like a squirrel gathering nuts. I’d love to have a picture of you especially with jism seeping out,” said Portia.
After their vaginal and anal cavities were energetically penetrated, it was Portia’s turn to orally accept Sir Charles’ load while Stacy applied herself to insuring his testicles were thoroughly drained. As soon as Portia’s mouth was full, the two girls put on a show for Sir Charles swapping his semen between mouths before gulping it down in unison as he counted 1-2-3.
Sex over, Sir Charles introduced his topic as he powered up his computer. “This will be your first assignment where Club Josephine carries out an assassination. As evil and deserving of death as your target, killing someone is and should be difficult for two well brought up young ladies. Therefore, I had Reynolds and Simone prepare this multi-media presentation. What you are about to see should give you all the necessary incentive not to hesitate at the proper moment.”
The two girls watched the wall sized screen as a picture of a young couple appeared. They were holding a baby. A voice over announced, “Margaret Kiley was born December 15, 1970 to Thomas and Vera Anderson. She was their second of three children.”
The next picture was of a young girl riding a pony. The narrator continued, “She had a normal childhood growing up in Lubbock, Texas where he father was the local sheriff.”
The picture changed to show what appeared to be a yearbook picture of the same girl. “Margaret graduated from Lubbock’s Andrew Pierce High School with a three point five average. Her classmates voted her most friendly. She was President of the Spanish Club her senior year.”
The image changed to show Margaret at her wedding. “Margaret married Lawrence Townly, her high school sweetheart upon graduating from the University of Texas at Austin with a degree in criminal justice. Larry Townly completed his law degree at Tulane University and was admitted to the Texas bar that same year.”
The next image showed Margaret at a graduation ceremony. “Margaret applied and was accepted by the Federal Bureau of Investigation. She completed her training at Quantico, Virginia graduating at the top of her class and was assigned to the Houston office.”
A video came next of Margaret holding one baby while two boys both pre-school ages played under a Christmas tree. “Margaret gave birth in successive years to Kyle, Ernest, and Stewart. To raise her family she took a leave of absence from the bureau. Lawrence Townly joined one of the Houston’s largest law firms specializing in oil leases.”
Next was a video clip showed the three boys and their mother playing together in a backyard swimming pool. “Margaret’s was a typical prosperous suburban family. They had a comfortable home in where the family enjoyed camping, youth soccer and as you can see their swimming pool.”
“For a woman who had three boys, she still had her figure. And she wasn’t afraid to show it,’ said Stacy commenting on the very brief bikini the mother of three was wearing.
“I hope I look that good after childbirth,” said Portia.
The image changed to a still picture of a badly wrecked automobile. “Tragedy struck when Larry Townly was killed in a head on collision with a drunk driver.”
The next image showed Margaret in front of an office building. “Now a single mother and having to support her family, Margaret applied for and was accepted for a position with the Drug Enforcement Agency. Through hard work and competent policing, she rapidly advanced through the DEA hierarchy”
Another video clip began with Margaret standing behind a podium decorated with the DEA insignia. For the first time, Margaret herself spoke, “As the newly appointed agent in charge of the Laredo Office, I promise to do everything in my power to apprehend the members of the drug cartel terrorizing honest citizens on both sides of the border.”
There followed several excerpts from the Laredo Courier detailing major drug busts in the area. Numerous arrests and large amounts of cocaine and heroin were seized. One headline read, “DEA shuts down drug smuggling operation based in Nuevo Laredo.”
The following screen contained the headline, “DEA Head Abducted.” It was a television news video of an SUV by the side of the road, surrounded by worried looking police officers. The newscaster added, “Local police discovered the DEA Regional Director’s vehicle abandoned near her home. Witnesses reported seeing her SUV forced off the road by a group of heavily armed men. It is feared Director Townly was kidnapped by the cartel gang she had been pursing with great success over the last two years.”
Stacy recognized Simone’s voice when she announced the next video.
“The following was received some weeks later by the DEA’s Houston office. It was also posted on several Mexican-based WEB sites associated with narco trafficking. Unfortunately, it has been downloaded thousands of times.”
Portia and Stacy watched as a man in a ski mask speaking in Spanish announced the punishment of the American Margaret Townly for her persecution of the Nuevo Laredo Cartel. He promised anyone who sought to disrupt cartel operations would suffer a similar fate.
Portia and Stacy watched as the scene shifted to the outside of a run down house in what appeared to be a neighborhood in a poor section of Nuevo Laredo There was a line of Latino males standing at the front door. Masked men with assault rifles were guarding the line making sure no one left.
The camera panned down the street to reveal that the line stretched for blocks. The camera traveled into the house to a bedroom. There, her wrists handcuffed to the metal frame of a bed lay a naked Margaret Townly. The voice belonging to the ski mask spoke to the first man in line, “Go ahead, Ramon, fuck the American wore.”
Margaret screamed and kicked as the heavily pockmarked man approached the bed.
“I’m a Federal officer and you are about to commit a serious crime that will put you in prison for the rest of your life,” said Margaret as he unbuckled his jeans and slid them to his knees.
He stood by the bed stroking his uncircumcised manhood for a few seconds. One hand reached out to touch Margaret’s breast. She screamed for him to stop.
“Get on with it, Ramon,” shouted the Ski mask in Spanish.
Ramon grabbed the ankles of her wildly kicking legs as he climbed on the bed. He placed his knees on Margaret’s thighs pinning her down as he fisted his cock. The law officer screamed as the man used his fingers to part her labia. He spit in his hand then smeared it over his penis.
“Please, don’t do this. I have three children,” sobbed Margaret in excellent Spanish.
Ramon concentrated on getting into position ignoring her entreaty. As Margaret broke down and begged him to stop, the man leaned forward using one hand to guide his cock into her vagina. A wail of defeat and humiliation escaped Margaret as the man began the rhythm of sexual intercourse. The camera circled the room capturing the rape from all directions including the men watching and laughing in the doorway.
In a few moments, the man’s finished to loud shouts of approval by the onlookers. The man calmly wiped his cock on Margaret’s thigh as he climbed off her. He was immediately replaced. On screen, the Arabic number two appeared in the bottom corner. Seconds later, a third man was on top of Margaret and the number three appeared. For the next several minutes, the scene changed every three or four seconds as the number slowly approached one hundred fifty. Margaret was no longer crying or fighting back. She lay there sobbing until at the one hundred fifty first rape; they switched from her vagina to her anus.
A fat man held her ankles bending them to where they almost touched her shoulders. The shoved a dirty pillow under her hips to elevate her.
She begged the man not to hurt her. Her rapist dug his fingers into her vagina coating them with semen he smeared over his cock and her sphincter.
To shouts of encouragement by onlookers he brutally penetrated her rectum. Margaret screamed in pain as he plunged his cock past her anus. A close up confirmed that the man’s cock was buried deep in her asshole. Once more the pace of the video quickened and the anal rape count rapidly increased. The room grew darker as the sun left the sky. Someone brought in several kerosene lamps to light the bizarre scene. Finally at three hundred the rapes stopped. Margaret appeared listless and unconscious. The camera took close ups of her vagina and anus showing they were now open and slowly oozing semen.
The man in the ski mask reappeared. Apparently some time had gone by. They were in a different place. A naked Margaret was bound face up over a wine barrel. The obvious tension in her arms and legs demonstrated how tightly she was stretched.
“This is what happens to Americans who arrest members of the Nuevo Laredo cartel,” said the Ski Mask. He placed a cattle prod on Margaret’s breast and pressed the button. Margaret screamed and twisted against her bonds. Ski mask applied the cattle prod to the other breast with the same result. He placed the prod in her vagina and shocked her several times.
The next scene opened with a still naked Margaret standing in the middle of a different room, suspended from a ceiling beam by her wrists. Someone had shaved her head making her hard to recognize. Her toes barely touched the floor. The camera watched as two men in ski masks arrived each carrying a large bullwhip. Margaret seeing the two began to scream and beg. The men uncoiled the whips and began to snap them in the air.
“Those are the brothers. Arturo is the larger one in the khaki slacks. Esteban, the younger brother, is wearing jeans,” said Sir Charles.
“What monsters,” said Portia. “Killing is too easy. We should line up three hundred guys to butt fuck them.”
“Portia, I warned you about using the F-word,” said Sir Charles.
“Sorry, Sir Charles, I just got carried away,” said Portia.
“Let this be your last warning. If I hear it again, those cute little mammaries of yours will be bright red,” said Sir Charles reaching to cup Portia’s breast.
On screen the brothers were calling out the body part they targeted. Each time the metal tip bullwhip landed, it left a bleeding gash. A bloody Margaret Townly was on her way to screaming herself hoarse.
“That’s enough,” said Sir Charles stopping the video. “Simone has a copy you can view at your leisure if you chose. But I find it revolting. It ends in bestiality, dismemberment and her death. They sent her severed breasts to her home in Houston. Your thoughts, girls?”
“I wish both brothers were tango aficionados,” said Stacy. “I will not hesitate when the moment arrives.”
“Neither will I,” said Portia.
***
“I want you now,” said Arturo grabbing Stacy by the wrist and pulling her off the crowded dance floor. His grip was so tight; she could feel his rings digging into her flesh pressing against the bone. The pain brought Stacy’s emotions to an erotic peak as she followed him into the dark hallway.
“You dance like a Milonguera. Can you fuck like one?” asked Arturo leaning back against the wall pulling her against his erection.
Stacy answered by swinging her right leg up and over Arturo’s shoulder leaving her standing on her left leg. Her calf was hooked behind Arturo’s neck helping to support her. His hand slipped under her top crushing her breasts flattening her nipples.
“Harder, hurt me,” hissed Stacy reacting to the pain by pressing her bare sex against the hard lump in his trousers.
“Whore, show me you know what to do,” said Arturo before pressing his lips to Stacy’s. They kissed with the savagery of beasts drunk on the taste of their intermingled blood. A desperate Stacy clawed at his trouser zipper before locating the tab and pulling it down. Her hand grasped the base of Arturo’s fully erect cock.
Arturo had never met anyone with the beauty, passion and intensity of Stacy. He moaned in pleasure as she used her leg to lift herself up and then down capturing his cock inside her.
“I’m going to come,” breathed Stacy trembling from head to toe as she orgasmed.
Arturo marveled as she writhed in his arms. In the dim light he see her eyes roll back in her head. Specs of saliva landed on his face as she mouthed curse words.
Recovering, Stacy began to move in rhythm with the music coming from the bandstand. Following the basic steps of the tango, she slowly engulfed Arturo’s cock inhaling deeply pulling her navel to her backbone contracting the muscles drawing him into her. Just as slowly, she rose using her foot to lift her as she pushed against the penetration seeking to crush it inside her body. Then it was a quick absorption followed by an equally quick expulsion then a slow languid slight movement of her hips.
“You’re incredible,” said Arturo convinced he had found something rare that he must somehow hold and keep. He reached down and grabbed Stacy’s buttocks pulling her against him with all his strength.
“That’s right, make it hurt, fuck me as hard as you can,” said Stacy repeating the slow-slow-quick-quick-slow rhythm of the tango.
Stacy focused as never before on giving a man pleasure from her body. It took only a few more moments before Arturo’s seed flowed into her. Covered in sweat and breathing hard, they both stood motionless for a moment. Stacy placed her left hand on the back of Arturo’s neck. She turned her emerald and diamond ring around pressing the large emerald against his spine. The emerald had been hollowed out with a laser. Sir Charles had commissioned a watchmaker in Zurich to build a mechanism inside. At the touch of the tiny trigger, a spring propelled a lancet through a minute hole in the center of the stone. A nerve agent was forced through the hollowed out lancet. The agent did not kill but it did paralyze.
Kissing passionately, Stacy opened the tiny trigger guard. It was an act she had rehearsed countless times. As she smashed her lips against his she released the lancet. Arturo felt a sharp twinge in his neck then instantly realized he was incapable of even the slightest movement.
Stacy felt the powerful agent seize Arturo’s central nervous system bringing it to a state of complete paralysis. His tongue became still and unyielding in her mouth. His eyes stared ahead able to see but not move. His hard cock was still inside her.
Stacy reached up and removed one of the pins holding her hair in place. She shook her head allowing her blonde curls to cascade onto her shoulders. She discarded the clear plastic sheath covering the razor sharp edge. Acting with a calmness that would later amaze her she reached down and took a firm grasp on Arturo’s testicles. She pulled the orbs of nerve ganglia down twisting them to narrow the connective flesh. The doctor who had discussed the properties of the agent with her had categorically stated that while it induced paralysis it did nothing to lessen pain.
Stacy crushed his testicles in her hand as she whispered, “First, I am going to cut off your balls. This is for Margaret Townly, the DEA agent you had raped, tortured and killed.”
A quick flick of the knife and Stacy allowed the carrion to drop to the floor. Arturo remained immobile but she could see the pain in his eyes.
“Now for your dick,” said Stacy gripping his still hard cock in her vagina as she forced the edge through the soft flesh. Stacy immediately felt the flow of warm blood running down her legs. “After what you did to her, I didn’t want you to die a man.”
Stacy placed the tip of the knife under his sternum and pushed it through at an upward angle so it sliced into the heart. Stacy waited a few seconds to make sure his heart had stopped. As she was removing her leg from the back of Arturo’s neck, a hand spun her around to face a terrified Isabella.
“What have you done to Arturo,” screamed Isabella able to make out in the dim light the glittering knife handle protruding from his chest?
Stacy’s fist landed on the point of Isabella’s chin sending her to the ground unconscious. Stacy could hear commotion out on the dance floor. She walked quickly back toward the dance floor. When she had almost reached it, Arturo’s bodyguards arrived moving quickly.
“Arturo, Isabella stabbed him. Help him. I couldn’t stop the bleeding,” said Stacy making her best effort to look on the verge of hysteria. The guards hurried past her into the dark hallway. Portia and Alex were all of a sudden at her side with weapons drawn. Portia pressed a Sig Sauer semi-automatic into Stacy’s hand as they hurriedly left the club in the Range Rover parked at the curb.
Francis floored the accelerator and the powerful SUV sped off. Seconds later, the three ex SAS having decided an unconscious Isabella had not killed anyone emerged on the run. They hurriedly signaled for the driver to bring their car. It was enough of an embarrassment their client had been assassinated. It would be even greater professional humiliations if the assassins got away. Anxious to regain at least a shred of their professional reputation, they flung themselves into the car hoping to kill or capture Stacy.
As their vehicle began to accelerate, Reynolds took careful aim through the optics of the Stinger missile. Simone was standing nearby with another Stinger in the unlikely event Reynolds missed. The missile impacted on the side of the vehicle causing a large explosion flipping the car on its side. No one emerged alive from the roaring fire that followed.
Rear guard task completed. Reynolds and Simone re-entered their armored limousine and proceeded to the airport.
“Portia, I need some ice, please,” said Stacy cracking opening the lavatory door of the Gulfstream IV that had just lifted off the runway of a small private airport on the outskirts of Buenos Aires.
“Are you hurt,” asked Portia concern in her voice?
“No, but I have something that needs to be kept cold. Bring me a bucket of ice.”
The rest of the team was busy opening bottles of champagne to celebrate the success of their mission. At the moment they were not paying attention to what was occurring at the rear of the plane
“What is it,” asked Portia arriving at the door with a plastic ice bucket.
“His cock,” said Stacy extracting the cock from her vagina then burying the column of bloody flesh in the bucket.
“You cut it off and brought it,” said a surprised Portia. “That’s one hell of a fucking souvenir.”
“Mind the F-word,” said Stacy putting the top on the ice bucket.
“Where was it? I didn’t see you carrying it when we left the club,” said Portia opening the lid for another look at the severed body part.
“It was where it was when I cut it off,” said Stacy removing her top.
“Your cunt,” asked Portia in disbelief?
“Yes, I wanted my hands free in case we had to shoot our way out,” said Stacy.
“What are you going to do with it?”
“I have plans. Now let’s put that somewhere safe and join the others,” said Stacy unzipping her blood stained skirt.
***
There were two interesting aftermaths to the assassination of Arturo. Arturo’s brother, Esteban received a small package from an untraceable address in the United States. It contained his brother’s severed penis on a bed of dry ice and a note explaining that unless he ceased cartel operations, his own cock would wind up in the same condition.
Esteban shuddered at the sight of the shriveled hunk of flesh. The autopsy report of the Buenos Aires morgue stated Arturo had been alive and conscious when a sharp instrument severed his privates. The coroner also noted the presence of nerve toxins that completely paralyzed Arturo. His report paid considerable tribute to the ingenuity and skill of the assassin.
Esteban, the younger and less astute of the brothers keenly felt the loss of the older and stronger Arturo. Arturo had escaped countless assassination attempts. Esteban had grown to consider Arturo almost immortal. The fact a mere female from the United States had cut off his manhood while he was still alive then slaughtered him depressed and frightened Esteban. He began to drink heavily. His lieutenants became concerned the cartel was not being properly led.
The most capable and ambitious of his underlings, Ramon Eschivera, eager to establish his own reputation, attacked Esteban’s hacienda one night. After raping the females while the males were forced to watch, Ramon slaughtered the entire family then deposited their naked and bullet ridden bodies in the main square of Nuevo Laredo. War broke out between factions of the cartel.
The other less happy aftermath was the arrest of Isabella by the Buenos Aires police. Arriving on the scene to find three Europeans, two from the UK and one from Northern Ireland, burnt to a crisp and even more embarrassing, a castrated and slain international criminal wanted by Interpol and the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation, the police promptly arrested the one member of Arturo’s party who survived.
Argentine Federal Police quickly took over the investigation. The unfortunate Isabella spent nearly a month in the custody of the Special Branch. Its officers quickly determined the hapless girl had nothing to do with the assassination but they so enjoyed interrogating the beautiful female they chose to be extra diligent in their investigation.
Isabella did not reveal anything even when her reproductive parts along with other sensitive areas were subjected to the branch’s preferred method of extracting information. Isabella learned first hand voltage applied to her clitoris, nipples, and vagina produced pain levels that compelled her to confess to murdering not only Arturo but his three bodyguards.
The fact Isabella did not know what a Stinger missile was or could even identify a picture of one caused her interrogators to conclude her torture was not producing the desired results. However, watching her writhe in agony and promise to perform any kind of sex encouraged them to continue her questioning.
Having failed to learn anything useful from electrical torture, the enterprising officers switched to a regimen of caning followed by submersion in freezing water. Each session of torture was followed by a gang rape first by the officers but later when she had become a little the worse for wear, her fellow prisoners.
A positive aspect of Isabella’s incarceration was when she was finally released, she returned to her parents’ home in Patagonia, promised them she would be a dutiful daughter, marry the man they had chosen and never again run away to the big city.
Her only long-term effects were her tendency to scream and hide at the sight of law enforcement and her inability to nurse her children due to the damage her milk glands sustained from prolonged exposure to high voltage.
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