The Ramon Vargas Affair

She mopped at the perspiration from her brow, with a lacy handkerchief, thankful for the lightweight, almost sheer, print frock, that she'd had the foresight to pack, back in the hotel in Bogota. Beneath the short dress, she was naked, apart from a skimpy pair of lace panties, but she no-longer felt self-conscious, under the hot-eyed stares, she received from the native workers. None of them would dare to touch Vargas's woman!

She gave a loud sigh of exasperation, her bosoms heaving, fetchingly, within the clinging, low-cut bodice. She'd been here almost two weeks now, and still hadn't formulated a workable plan of escape, or figured out how she could get in touch with the authorities! Vargas had been strutting around, like some macho, modern day equivalent of Tarzan, ever since they'd arrived deep in the jungle; and she, of course, was his Jane, expected to drop her knickers, at the snap of his fingers. She felt a surge of angry frustration, and clutched her fists to her sides.

She watched a gang of laborers, down on the loading dock, transferring large bales of coca leaves, to an old battered and peeling paddleboat, for delivery to the cocaine processing plant, nearly a hundred miles up river. They constantly shouted and swore at each other, usually in Spanish or occasionally Portuguese, most of them wearing ragged denim jeans, or cut-offs, and most of them stripped to the waist, in the glaring heat, as they manhandled the cargo aboard, with the aid of a small, dockside crane.

She had considered trying to stow away on one of the numerous boats that plied the river, but had quickly discounted the idea. Their precious cargoes were far too well guarded, and she was bound to be discovered, even assuming she could've sneaked aboard, without being spotted. All the guards carried wicked-looking AK-47 assault rifles, and looked as if they wouldn't hesitate to use them, if necessary! She had even considered trying to seduce one of them, so that he might be coerced into aiding her in her escape, but they were all terrified of Vargas, and he would probably inform on her, at the earliest opportunity, as soon as she revealed her plans!

There was also a tarmaced, single-track jungle road, used by heavy trucks, to transport the raw materials to civilization, but this was frequently blocked by fallen trees, or mud-slides, during the frequent tropical storms, that occurred in this region. The vehicles also had to pass through several checkpoints, complete with armed guards, on their way in and out of the plantation, which was surrounded by high, electrified fences, and patrolled by hired mercenaries, with vicious guard dogs. There was little hope of escape there!

The jungle itself, was virtually impenetrable in many places, coupled with deep gorges, and sheer cliffs between the grassy hillsides, making the road, river, or air transport, the only feasible means of entry, or exit to the plantation!

"Lola, my dear, where are you?" the voice of Ramon Vargas called, from behind her. "Ah, there you are!" he added, as he appeared in the open doorway, wearing a long bathrobe, and carrying two large cocktails, each containing lots of crushed ice. "I have brought you a cool refreshing drink!"

Since she'd been at the plantation, Rita had been allowed free rein, to wander the grounds, during daylight, under the ever watchful eyes of the security guards, but at night, when she retired, she was chained to her master's bed, shackled by one slim ankle!

"Thank you Ramon!" she said, taking her drink from his outstretched hand, and smiling at him, as they both sat down at a low table. She had become quite used to alcoholic drinks, these last few weeks. "I was just admiring the view!" she added, as she took a sip from the frosted glass.

Ramon's eyes flickered briefly, over her long, lithe legs, pausing monetarily, as he caught a glimpse of the crotch of her panties, as the front-split skirt slid away from her marble smooth thighs, as she crossed her legs. "It is a lovely sight, no?" he replied, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners, in a slight smile, as he thought of all the money that his peasant workers were making for him.

"Mmmm!" Rita downed some more of her drink, then leaned back and closed her eyes, enjoying a slight breeze that had just sprung up.

"I am so glad you've decide to be sensible about our little arrangement, Lola, or should I say 160-50-7687, Detective Sergeant Rita Lance?" Ramon murmured.

Rita's eyes flew wide open. "H-How did you f-find out?" she gasped, her face filled with horror.

"With computerized central records, it is a simple task, if you have influence in the right places!" he added, with a grin. "Would you prefer me to call you Rita, from now on, my dear?"

"N-No, Lola will do just f-fine!" she replied, taking a large gulp of her drink, as the color drained from her cheeks.

"Provided you continue to be sensible, and do not try to escape, and accede to all my demands, then this will not affect our working relationship!" he continued, smoothly, with a triumphant leer on his face. "Up to now, you have proved a, um, most agreeable companion!"

Rita managed to suppress a small shudder of revulsion, swiftly followed by a rush of guilty relief. "At least he isn't about to kill me just yet!" she breathed. She nodded her head.

"Good! Anyway, that is not why I wanted to talk with you, Lola! I am expecting some of my, um, business associates to fly in, later this afternoon, and they will be staying with us, for a couple of days! I wish you to act as their hostess, during their visit!" He paused to take a sip of his drink, before continuing. "You understand that it is imperative that my associates remain in an agreeable frame of mind, whilst they are with us, don't you Lola?" He reached across the table, and caressed her left breast, through the thin material of her dress.

Rita gulped, and nodded, reading between the lines.

"I shall be relying on you to keep them all happy, during their short stay!" He squeezed her nipple, through the clinging material. "Hmm, I think you should wear your little black dress, at dinner this evening, my dear; together with some nice, lacy stockings, high-heeled shoes, and a garter belt!"

"Any particular panties?" Rita snapped, experiencing a momentary flash of her notorious temper, as she jerked away from his prying hand.

He just smirked at her, without replying.

"No panties, huh?" she said, with a loud sigh. "I should've guessed!"

"And no bra, of course!" he murmured, reaching out and slipping the nearest shoulder-strap from her shoulder, and cupping the firm, fleshy globe, that fell out of her low neckline. "Such beauties should never be hidden away!"

"Aaaaahhh!" She closed her eyes and groaned, oblivious to the nearby plantation workers, who could clearly see the drug baron's mouth at work, on her desire hardened nipple. Her legs sprawled out, lewdly, her stiletto heels scrapping against the wooden boards, as he pulled her dress down to her waist, and continued to work on her aching tits, with his mouth and one hand, whilst the other slipped between her open thighs, and under the exposed crotch of her panties.

"Oh, Jesus! Yes, yes, yessss!" she gasped, as he slipped his index finger into her already moistened pussy hole, and yanked on her clitoris ring. "Make love to me, Ramon, I need you inside me!"

Even as she heard herself crying out to be fucked, a corner of her mind was cursing him. "Bastard, bastard, bastard! He must've slipped another of those aphrodisiac pills into my drink!"

-oOo-

Chris slipped onto the padded-leather bench, in the darkened booth, and beckoned to the topless waitress, to come on over. "Two, ice-cold beers, please Miss!" he called, as she approached. She smiled and nodded, turning back towards the bar, with a sexy flounce of her short, frilly skirt.

He admired her swaying ass, for a couple of seconds, then turned back to face the dusky-skinned, black-haired Mexican girl, sitting facing him.

"Well, here I am," Maria snapped. "What is it you want from Maria, Senor Lorenzo?"

"It was good of you to agree to meet me, Ms. Mendoza! I would like to ask you a few more questions!" Chris said, smiling at her, reassuringly. He was actually off duty, having been ordered by Harry, to take a few days off, before returning to normal duties, with a new, substitute partner. He was damned if he was going to sit back, doing nothing, while Rita was in trouble!

"Oh, yeah!" she retorted, staring at him, suspiciously. "How come you didn't ask me them, down at the Federal building?"

"Um, we have learnt a little more about your Mr. Vargas, since we last spoke, Senorita!"

"He isn't MY Mr. Vargas!" she snapped. "I told you before, copper; I just do a little partying with him, from time to time!"

He ignored her outburst. "We know he flew to South America, in his private jet, but we..." Chris paused, as the waitress returned with the beers, and banged them down in front of them, her large, naked boobs, quivering, fetchingly.

"Thanks!" He paid for the overpriced drinks, leaving a small tip, then took a good pull, and wiped the froth from his lips, with the back of his hand, before continuing. "We know he took off for Colombia, with the girl, Lola Pagoda, and now believe his destination was Bogota, Colombia!"

The girl, nodded, smiling, before downing half of her beer, in a single go. "Not bad," she exclaimed, smacking her lips, "but just a little on the warm side!"

"We are trying to pinpoint his eventual destination in Bogota!" Chris continued. "Would you have any idea where he might be staying?"

She grinned, mischievously, eyeing the handsome young detective, with a predatory eye. "I might have?" she admitted. "What's it worth?"

"I should point out, that it is your civic duty to help me, as much as possible, with my investigation, Ms. Mendoza, and I am not authorized to offer you any financial inducements," he replied, gruffly, taking another pull at his Budweiser.

"Stuff the civic fuckin' duty crap! I'll tell you what, Lorenzo! You take Maria out back, and give her good screwing, and she tell you where Senor Vargas and Senorita Pagoda are almost certainly staying in Colombia?" she announced, before downing the remains of her beer.

"What?" Chris gasped, hardly able to believe his ears. "You must be joking, you bitch?"

The girl smiled. "I'm deadly serious, honey! Maria take big risk, if she tell you! She fancy you, the first time she set eyes on you! You screw Maria, and she tell you what you want to know! Where's the harm in that? You enjoy it, no?"

Chris noted how her speech had lapsed into pigeon English, as she became excited. He starred into the girl's eyes. She was obviously deadly serious, and he would do just about anything, if it meant him finding Rita, and rescuing her from the clutches of that bastard, Vargas! "Okay, it's a deal," he said, gruffly, quickly downing the remains of his beer, and getting to his feet.

They slipped out through the narrow emergency exit, into the narrow, dimly lit back alley, hand in hand.

"Do you want to do it in my car?" he asked, gruffly, fingering his suddenly too tight shirt collar.

"No, here!" she hissed, leaning back against the rough stone wall, and sliding her short skirt up about her waist. "I want you to fuck me right here, Mr Policeman!" She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, and pushed them down about her knees, before stepping out of them. Her pubic bush was pitch black, wild and uncultivated, just like her lovemaking, Chris supposed.

Chris unbuckled his belt, then unzipped his pants, and pushed them down about his knees, before shuffling forward.

The girl reached out, grasping his iron-hard erection, in her small hands, before guiding him to the entrance of her sex. "Fuck me real good, Mr. Policeman!" she ordered, as she slid his penis into her warm, moist orifice. "Fuck Maria good, and she tell all she know about Senor Vargas's whereabouts!"

As he thrust into her, all the way, she wrapped her fingers in his hair, pulling his mouth down onto hers, in a long passionate kiss. As he started to piston into her, his hands slipped down under her smooth, rounded buttocks, supporting her weight, as she wrapped her legs about his hips, pulling herself hard up against him.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah..." Her head was thrown back now, eyes closed, as he pounded into her sweet, slurping sex.

"Where's the girl?" he panted.

"Not until you make Maria cum!" she gasped, the whites of her eyes showing, as her orgasm neared.

"Uh, uh, uh, uh... What happened to the girl?" he grunted, as he climaxed, and shot his load into her spasming pussy.

"Aaaaauugghh! Oh yesss, yessss, yesssss!" she panted, thrusting her hips forward, to meet his pounding thrusts, as her tightly clenched vulva, milked his cock dry, and she orgasmed again.

At last, she unclamped her thighs, and slumped back against the wall, on wobbling heels, as he withdrew his shrinking penis from her sopping quim. "Jesus, that was the best!" she panted, opening her eyes, and looking at him, dazedly. "You in the wrong profession, Lorenzo!"

"Now for your part of the bargain!" he murmured, gripping her by the shoulders, and shaking her, roughly. "Where are Vargas and the girl?"

"Oh, ah, yeah!" she exclaimed, blinking at him, with a satisfied smile on her full, red lips. "The Don Pedro! It... it's gotta be the finest hotel in all of Bogota. Ramon maintains a suite on the sixteenth floor, I think... Senor Vargas, he always stay there!"

Chris nodded, and swiftly pulled up his pants, and buckled his belt.

"Forget the hooker, we could go again, if you think you're up to it?" the girl panted, dark eyes gleaming. "We could go back to my place, huh?"

"Maybe another time!" Chris grunted, turning and stumbling away, filled with self-loathing, not for what he'd been forced to do, but the fact that he'd enjoyed every fucking second of it!

-oOo-

The grey-suited guests sat around smoking cigars, and drinking after-dinner liqueurs, or brandy. The atmosphere was filled with smoke and the hum of convivial conversation. Earlier, Rita had been introduced as their hostess for the evening, and she had attracted numerous compliments on her appearance, as some of the guys had tried to hit on her. She had politely brushed aside their advances, swiftly moving on to talk to the next guest. All the men were representatives of the North American mobs, and represented potentially major outlets for Vargas's expanding drugs empire.

Rita sat on a chaise-lounge, next to Ramon, sipping a small glass of white wine. Her short skirt had ridden up over her smooth thighs, to reveal the lacy tops of her dark stockings, and the narrow garter straps that held them up. It drew many an admiring glance, although her slightly raised knees were demurely clamped together, to prevent them seeing too much.

"You have been very quiet, this evening, my angel?" Ramon murmured, smiling at her, his hand reaching out to stroke the top of her left thigh, possessively.

"I g-guess I'm a little nervous, in such distinguished company," Rita gushed, looking around at the five guests, and fluttering her false eyelashes at the ones who were looking in her direction.

"There's nothing to be nervous about, my sweet," Vargas murmured, deliberately forcing his hand down between her tightly clenched thighs, "we're all friends here! Why don't you just relax, and open up for me?"

Rita gazed into the ice-cold depths of his dark, hypnotic eyes, and had to suppress a small shudder of fear. "Of c-course darling, I'm just being silly!" she murmured, reluctantly easing apart her thighs, so his hand could freely play with her pussy, in plain view of their guests.

There were one or two muted gasps, and mumbled asides, as they suddenly became the centre of attention.

Vargas rubbed his stiffened fingers against the entrance to her sex, in clear view now, as he leant over and kissed her lightly, on her scarlet-coated lips. "Why don't you stand up, and slip off your dress, and show our visitors what a sexy body you've got, Lola, honey?" he murmured, in her ear, loud enough for the others to hear.

"Do I have to, Ramon?" she whined, blushing a pretty pink, all over her face, neck and shoulders. "It... It's so embarrassing!"

"I want you too, honey!" he said, firmly, his cold eyes glittering, dangerously. She nodded.

Without another word, Rita rose to her stiletto-heeled feet, and reached behind to unzip her dress. She then pushed the shoulder straps down her arms, until the dress was nestled about her waist, ignoring the loud murmurs of approval, as her firm, round breasts came into view. She pushed the garment down off her hips, and stepped out of it, her eyes unfocussed, before tossing it onto the couch, behind her.

There were loud gasps, and murmurs, of approval, as she stood there, legs slightly parted, wearing just her heels, black stockings, and matching garter belt, her neatly-trimmed, narrow vee, and slightly padded mons, framed by two pencil-thin garter straps. Her hard nipples stood out like twin organ stops, and her erect clitoris throbbed with excitement, despite her inner shame.

"Now, that's what I call a sexy bod!" exclaimed the tall man from Chicago, Mallone, known to his friends as 'Scarface', because of the livid white scar, down one pock-marked cheek.

"Open your thighs, Lola, so our guests can fully appreciate your loveliness!" Vargas urged.

Rita slowly eased her feet apart, fighting an almost overpowering urge to turn and run from the room.

"Say, what's that, hanging down between her legs?" exclaimed Henderson, a small, balding Canadian, who hailed from Toronto.

"Why don't you take a look, my friend?" Vargas suggested, with a dry chuckle.

The rotund little man, hurried over to the motionless girl, and knelt before her. He reached out, timidly, and took hold of the fine-link, gold chain, with the round dog-tag attached, hanging down between her thighs, and read aloud, the words engraved into the metal. "Property of Ramon Vargas!" He turned to the smiling Colombian. "Nice one, Ramon!"

There were several loud guffaws, as he eased apart the fleshy, outer folds, of Rita's vagina, and saw that the chain was attached to the small ring in her pierced clitoris. "Jesus, it's attached to her clitty!" he cried, with a loud chuckle.

This produced further ribald laughter.

"Isn't she absolutely gorgeous, gentlemen?" Ramon exclaimed. There were loud murmurs of agreement. "Tonight, I give her to you! You may do with her as you wish, provided you don't damage the merchandise, of course," he added, with a chuckle.

-oOo-

Chris slung his suitcase into the back of the cab, and climbed in next to it. "Hotel Don Pedro!" he replied, to the cabby's questioning look.

"Si Senor!" The battered-looking taxi shot away from the front of the arrivals lounge, with a loud squeal of tires, and a cloud of dust, throwing the detective back against the worn plastic upholstery.

His trip to South America was completely unofficial, but as he had told Captain Lipschitz, he couldn't just sit around, doing nothing, with Rita in mortal danger. Harry had reluctantly agreed, on the proviso that he was to be kept fully informed of any developments.

Chapter 12: If You've Got The Time, I've Got The Motion

Rita was on her hands and knees, on the thick, shagpile carpet, her ass raised high in the air, as she'd been instructed. Behind her, Scarface Mallone had just finished unzipping his pants, and pulling out his huge cock.

He stared down at her lovely, wide-spread buttocks, with the golden dog-tag swaying between her thighs. "We wouldn't want to damage your little adornment now, would we?" he sneered, eyeing her small, brown, anal sphincter. "So, I shall have to fuck your pretty little ass, Lola!"