The Ramon Vargas Affair

A uniformed officer, was lounging behind a battered desk, with his feet resting on the top, reading a magazine. He scrambled to his feet, and stood to attention, as they entered the room, saluting his superior officer.

"You may leave us!" Sanchez told him, in Spanish. The man nodded, and hurried from the room, grateful to have avoided the expected tongue lashing, from his superior.

"If the Senorita will enter the cell..." The police chief indicated the open door of the nearest cell.

"But why?" Rita asked, a little bemused.

"I shall lock you both in separate cells, for your own safety, until your escort arrives!" he added, smoothly, guiding her into the cell by her elbow, before she had time to protest further, and slamming the self-locking door behind her.

He turned back to Banjo. "Now you, Senor!"

Banjo felt a thrill of apprehension. "But why me, Sanchez? My life's not in danger! Vargas doesn't even know that I exist, let alone that I helped the girl escape!"

"We cannot take any risks, Senor O'Rafferty. Vargas is a very dangerous man!"

"But I don't see the sense in..."

Sanchez pulled out his pistol, from the leather holster strapped about his waist, and pointed it directly at the Irishman's belly. "Please go into the cell behind you, Senor," he murmured, his eyes glittering, menacingly, "or I shall be forced to shoot you!"

There was a loud gasp from Rita. "You're on Ramon's payroll, aren't you, you bastard?" she exclaimed, as realization suddenly dawned. She gripped the bars, in sheer frustration.

Banjo starred at the menacing gun barrel, and realized he had very little option, but to do as he'd been told. He slowly raised his hands above his head, and backed into the cell. With a loud clang, the barred door slammed shut, locking him in.

"What are you going to do with us?" Rita demanded.

The swarthy policeman ignored her, walking over to the door through which they'd entered, and turning the key in the lock. "We do not want to be interrupted," he growled.

He walked over to the desk, and took two pairs of handcuffs from the top drawer, then walked over to Rita's cell. He tossed a pair of handcuffs to her. "Put these on your left wrist, then pass the other half of the cuffs through the bars to O'Rafferty, above the cross-piece!" A rectangular reinforcing cross-section, ran horizontally along the partition, about five-feet above the ground, linking all the vertical steel bars.

Rita clipped the open cuff about her left wrist, then passed the other end through the bars to Banjo. "Lock it about your right wrist, Senor O'Rafferty!" Sanchez ordered.

The Irishman did as ordered, and Sanchez visibly relaxed. Now there was no way they could escape. He fetched the cell keys and unlocked Rita's cell, and strutted over to her, and snapped half of the second set of cuffs about her free wrist, before looking through the bars at Banjo. "Place your left hand through the bars, above the cross-piece, Senor!" he growled. Banjo obeyed, and the Colombian locked the other half of the cuff about his wrist.

The two prisoners now stood helplessly facing one another, through the intervening barrier, their arms raised to about shoulder height, linked by the short length of chain, of the bracelets.

Sanchez walked around behind Rita. "I have a niece, who would love this dress," he murmured, slowly unbuttoning the line of buttons, to reveal her braless back, and tiny panties. He tugged at the bows, holding the thin, bootlace shoulder straps, and slipped the dress from her body, carefully folding it over his arm, as he admired the girl's figure. "You have a very sexy body, Senorita," he murmured. Rita had been left wearing just her panties, stockings and heels. "Sanchez can see why Senor Vargas values you so highly? My brother, Miguel tells me you also give great head?"

Rita gave a start of shocked realization. "Sanchez... of course, the oily policeman must be the brother of Miguel Sanchez, Vargas's henchman!" she muttered, under her breath.

Sanchez reached out and fondled her right breast. "Magnificent!" he breathed, thumbing the nipple into full erection.

Rita closed her eyes and groaned, automatically arching her back. "Is he going to fuck me?" she asked herself, then realized, with a start, that that was exactly what she so desperately wanted. She shook her head, trying to regain control of her emotions. "You filthy bastard!" she snarled.

Banjo was staring at the girl, his cock a painful bulge in his jeans. For a brief instant, when the Colombian had fondled her breast, he had seen the look of stark hunger on Lola's face, and had expected her to plead with him to fuck her!

"What next?" Rita demanded, aware of O'Rafferty's hot eyes moving over her body. Her panties were already showing a distinctly damp patch at the crotch, now her arousal juices were starting to flow.

Sanchez grinned. "We wait for Senor Vargas to arrive! It shouldn't take long. He is flying here in his private helicopter. Senor Vargas is a very important hombre, and you, Senorita, have caused him mucho trouble!"

He walked away closing the cell door behind him, and went over to sit at the desk. Soon, he was thumbing through the copy of Playboy magazine, that the other policeman had left behind.

-oOo-

There was a loud knocking at the door. Sanchez gave a start, and jumped up from the chair, where he had been half-dozing, and hurried over.

"Let me in, Sanchez! It is me, Vargas!"

The Captain of Police quickly unlocked and opened the door. Vargas strode in, closely followed by his bodyguard, Ricardo.

His face lit up, as he saw the semi-naked girl in the cell, then he frowned. "You haven't messed with her, have you, Hugo?" he snapped, turning back to the trembling policeman.

"No, no, Senor! I just thought you might prefer the woman to suffer a little humiliation, while she was waiting?"

Vargas grinned. "I like it!" He looked at Banjo, for the first time. "This must be the young man, who helped Ms. Lance to escape from my clutches. Strip him!"

Sanchez hurried over and unlocked the cell door, whilst Ricardo entered, and proceeded to remove the Irishman's sneakers, jeans and jockey shorts. There was no way he could remove his tee-short, without releasing his cuffs, so he simple took out a knife, and cut it away, leaving the frightened young man totally naked.

"You have caused me much trouble, Senor!" Vargas snarled, "so you must pay the price! FUCK HIM!"

Ricardo nodded, and swiftly pulled out his already half-hard penis, and quickly frigged himself into full hardness before stepping up behind O'Rafferty. He positioned his cock against the young man's ass-hole, and gripped his hips.

"Noooh, pleassseee!" Banjo whimpered, terrified.

"Leave him alone, you bastard!" snapped Rita, vainly tugging at her manacles.

"Aaaaaauuuugggghhhh!" Banjo jerked forward, his hips smacking against the bars, as Ricardo thrust into him. "Ooooh, Jesus Christ!" he whimpered, tears running down his face.

"Hang on honey!" Rita whispered, through her own tears of frustration.

"Uuuuunngh!"

Rita's attention had been so riveted on the young Irishman's plight, that she had failed to hear Vargas enter her cell, and move up behind her. "Don't think you're getting off lightly, Lola," he murmured.

She felt his fingers grasp the waistband of her panties, and with a loud, tearing noise, he ripped them bodily from her hips.

"Aaaahhh!" She gave a gasp of shock, and then his knees were forcing apart her thighs, his hands spreading apart her ass cheeks, his cock nuzzling at her anal sphincter. She closed her eyes, steeling herself against the inevitable pain. This time, there would be no lubrication!

"Nnnnngghhh!" Banjo cried out again, as Ricardo rammed his massive prick into his ass-hole, right up to the hilt of his eight-inch length. His face was a distorted caricature, pressed up against the bars, as the South American began to fuck into his anus.

Taking this as his cue, Vargas slammed his hips forward, entering Rita in a single, agonizing thrust, slamming her forward against the bars, and squeezing her tits, obscenely between them.

"Uuuuuuunnnnggghhh!" Rita cried out in pain and terror, as her nervous system overloaded.

Vargas ignored her obvious distress, grunting, as he settled into a rhythmic pistoning. "Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh...." The sweat poured off him, as he pounded into the slut whore who had caused him so much hassle. He would give the bitch the fucking of her young life, before it came to a sudden, abrupt end!

Banjo's face was screwed up in an expression of pure agony, as Ricardo pounded into him. He'd never realized that pain could be this bad. His ass felt as if it were about to split into two. His rapist was grunting now, clutching the Irishman's hips, and yanking them back, as he rammed his cock into the tight channel, and Banjo realized that he must be nearing his climax. He tried to ignore the pain and humiliation, aware that his own penis had become hard and erect, and was slapping against the partition. Instead, he focused his eyes on Lola's face, pressed hard up against the bars, a mere inch or two away from his own. She too, had a look of agony on her lovely face, as Vargas roughly took her from behind, but there was something else reflected in those big, green eyes? Was it lust, maybe even pleasure...?

With a guttural moan of animal satisfaction, Ricardo orgasmed, shooting wads of creamy spunk, deep into the defenseless Irishman's rectum. He continued to thrust into him, until his aching balls were totally drained, then pulled out, with a grunt of satisfaction, his erection already starting to soften and shrink.

Meanwhile, Rita's pain was rapidly turning to pleasure, and she started to thrust her ass back, to greet the pistoning shaft. "Yes, yess, yessss!" she gasped, eyes now wide open, face contorted into a savage grin of satisfaction. "Ah, ah, ah, ah... Yes, yes, yesssss!"

Vargas came, his cum splattering against the spasming walls of her back passage, and sending her tumbling over the edge, into a mind-blowing orgasm. She arched her back, and screamed with joy. "Don't stop, don't stop!" she panted, with a dazed look of delight on her face, as she orgasmed, again and again.

Despite his pain, Banjo couldn't help himself. His mouth descended to one of her tits, grotesquely distorted, as it was pushed between the bars, and engulfed the flame-red, desire-hardened nipple.

"Aaaaaugh! She gave a slight jerk, and a loud gasp, as he nipped the teat between his teeth, and she orgasmed again.

The grunting, sweating Vargas, finally withdrew his shrinking organ, and stepped back, with a grunt of satisfaction. "That should teach the whore a lesson!" he thought. The sex had been intense, even more so, as he had watched the young Irishman being fucked in the adjoining cell. He had not enjoyed it! Vargas chuckled. "It is a shame that the girl has to die," he mused, "but she is becoming too big a liability!"

"Handcuff their wrists behind their backs, and cover them with a couple of blankets!" he ordered, zipping up his pants. "We will drive out and dump their bodies in the old, abandoned open-cast mine workings, just outside of the town!"

"An excellent idea, Senor Vargas," Sanchez agreed, hurrying to comply with his command.

Rita felt her blood run cold. "Was this finally going to be the end... after all her sacrifices, to remain alive?"

Chapter 16: Sir Galahad To The Rescue

Chris knocked softly, on the door to room 405. There was no answer! He wrapped on the door again. Still no answer. He began to look worried. "Rita, you in there?" he called. There was no reply.

He looked around. The corridor was deserted, so he took a couple of paces back, and slammed a raised foot against the door, alongside the lock. There was a loud splintering noise, and the lock gave, and the door swung inward, with a loud bang, as it hit the wall.

He ducked inside, his gun drawn, and at the ready, but the place was empty. "Rita, where the hell are you?" he muttered, peering around. He noted the rumpled appearance of the obviously recently used bed, and what appeared to be semen stains on the sheets, then his eyes were drawn to a folded slip of paper, on the nightstand.

He rushed over and picked it up, reading the message scrawled upon the slip of paper:

Just in case you didn't get the change in plan, we are down at the local police station, with Capt. Sanchez.

O'Rafferty

"What the hell are they doing down there?" he muttered, feeling a huge sense of relief, never-the-less. Somebody had changed the plans, without bothering to tell him.

He rode the elevator down to the front desk, and asked the bald, fat man there, where the local police station was located, and was informed that it was about half a mile away, located at the centre of the newer part of the city.

Chris was still fuming, as he climbed into his hire car, and drove off, heading for the station. Apparently, some guy called Sanchez, had taken it upon himself, to take them down to the local cop shop?

As soon as he entered the large, sprawling police building, her marched up to the Desk Sergeant. "I'm looking for a Captain Sanchez," he explained, in broken Spanish. "I believe he came in here a short while ago, with two friends of mine, a Mr. O'Rafferty and a Ms. Lance?"

A momentary look of panic, crossed the uniformed policeman's face. "Captain Sanchez is far too busy to see you now, Senor...?"

"Lorenzo, Sergeant Chris Lorenzo, Palm Beach Police Department!"

The policeman blinked. rapidly. "Ah, well, Senor Lorenzo, as I said, the Captain is very busy right now, but I have no recollection of these two other individuals you have mentioned? They are certainly not here!" As he spoke, the man refused to meet Chris' steely gaze.

"He's lying, for some reason?" Chris realized, for once managing to keep his temper in check. "Perhaps, another time, then?" he said, forcing a smile. "Adios!"

"Adios, Senor! I shall inform Captain Sanchez of your enquiry!"

Chris hurried from the station. "Something is definitely wrong here," he muttered. "and I'm going to get to the bottom of it!"

He swiftly walked back to his Chrysler Neon, parked across from the main entrance, and sat in the driver's seat, waiting. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but, in any event, he didn't have to wait long.

A large, unmarked black sedan, pulled out of the side road, alongside the police building, with a screech of tires, and shot past, heading in the opposite direction. He caught a brief glimpse of tousled, chestnut hair, and a pale frightened female face, with a large strip of sticking plaster, over her mouth. She was sitting in the back seat, next to a large, swarthy, dark-haired character in a police uniform, and a red-headed young man, who must have been O'Rafferty.

"Rita!" he exclaimed, gunning the engine, and doing a hair-raising U-turn in the busy street, to a chorus of honking horns. He roared after them, determined not to loose sight of the black car, in the traffic. "And, if I'm not mistaken, that was Ramon Vargas, sitting next to the driver!" he muttered to himself, as he weaved in and out of the traffic flow, swiftly cutting down the distance separating the two vehicles.

-oOo-

When they reached the alley, the blankets were discarded, and Rita was bundled, unceremoniously, into the back of a large, black sedan. Sanchez climbed in after her, then Banjo was bundled in beside him, by Ricardo. Both prisoners were still in the same state of undress, with their wrists shackled behind their backs, and a large piece of sticking plaster across their mouths. Ricardo then climbed into the driver's seat, with Vargas getting in alongside him.

Ramon turned, and looked at the near-naked girl, with an amused grin on his face. "I am afraid this will be our last journey together, mon cherie!" he murmured. "The time has finally come, for us to part!" He turned and nodded to Ricardo, who pulled away from the curb, and shot down the narrow alley, pausing momentarily, when they reached the busy main street, before pulling out into the traffic, with a loud screech of protest from the tires.

As the car settled into the stream of traffic, Sanchez took the opportunity to slip the fingers of his left hand between the girl's thighs, easing apart her sticky labia, and locating the slippy clit ring. "Ah, hah," he exclaimed, softly, "it is just as my brother, Miguel told me!" He slipped a grubby fingertip into the ring, and gave a short, sharp, experimental tug.

"Uuuungh!" The defenseless girl, who had turned her tear-streaked face away, and was gazing blindly out of the side window, gave a muffle cry, behind her gag, as her hips jerked. He yanked again, and was rewarded by a look of panic, or was it lust, on the girl's face, as she squirmed her pretty naked ass against the seat.

He slipped a finger into her moist snatch, easing it in and out, and noting how Lola was now arching her back, eyes closed, nipples fully erect, with small mewling noises coming from behind her gag. This was some hot bitch! "You're enjoying this bitch, aren't you?" he murmured.

"Nnnnggghhh!" the girl replied, incomprehensibly, vehemently shaking her head.

He grinned, evilly. "Oh, no, not much, Senorita!" He tugged on the clit ring, once more, and was rewarded with a flood of warm, sticky secretions, over his fingers, as a violent shudder passed through the girl's slim frame.

"What are you doing back there, Hugo?" Vargas asked, looking around, and grinning, at the sight that met his eyes.

"Just passing the time away, with the Senorita here," Sanchez answered, innocently. "She was becoming bored!"

-oOo-

Chris followed the black sedan, always keeping a discrete three or four car lengths behind, in the dense traffic flow. Gradually, as they moved out into the suburbs, the traffic density thinned, and he was forced to drop further and further behind, to avoid being spotted. Anxiety was gnawing at his guts, as he prayed that nothing bad would happen to his partner, before he could intervene.

The black sedan suddenly turned off the highway, onto a dirt-track road, heading up into a low range of hills, to the South.

"Shit!" Chris pulled the Neon over, just short of the road junction. He would have to let them get out of sight, before risking following them. "Still," he conjectured, "it's highly unlikely that their are any branch roads off the track, so I shouldn't loose them!"

He waited for several minutes, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. This wasn't looking too good. From what he could make out, it looked as if both Rita and O'Rafferty had been trussed up, and he couldn't be sure, but the way Rita's head had been jerking from side to side, she might even have been undergoing some sort of torture, on the back seat?

He clenched the wheel, his knuckles showing white. "If the bastards have harmed a hair on her head...." he muttered, savagely. He slipped the Neon into gear, and pulled away, almost immediately pulling onto the rutted dirt track. An obviously ancient, battered and peeling sign at the junction, read 'Villavicencio Mining Corp.', and Chris felt his blood run cold.

"What the hell are they going to some old mine workings for?" he asked himself, not wanting to admit the obvious. He dropped a gear, as the winding road grew steeper. The last thing he needed now, was to wreck the car!

-oOo-

"Nnnnngghhh!" Rita squirmed, arching her back, as Sanchez rubbed a callused finger against her sensitive G-spot, his thumb pressing hard against her swollen, throbbing clitty, her naked breasts bouncing against her ribcage, as the car traversed the rough terrain. Tears of shame ran down her cheeks, as another flood of sticky secretions, bathed the policeman's fingers.

Banjo had watched her reactions, wide-eyed, powerless to hide the effect it was having on him, as his penis stood up, hard and throbbing, between his naked thighs.