Been in a mood since I came here, an relieved some stress by writing. Hope everyone enjoys
A Mexican vacation by Skygazer
She kissed her husband, then grabbed her purse and headed downstairs to the bar. It was late, but despite the activity of the day, she was still wired. At forty, she felt she could still draw appreciative stares, but knew she wasn’t ever going to turn everyone’s eyes in her directions. Mostly it was her large chest that drew the bulk of the stares she got nowadays. The beach earlier today had proven that. With the ocean waves battering her, she had often struggles to keep the “girls” contained. Now, as she headed down, she just simply wore a light sundress that had a padded chest section, so she could get away with not wearing a bra. That and sandals was all she bothered to take, except for her purse, as she closed the door.
The kids were all in the next room, likely vegging out to Mexican TV or watching Netflix on their tablets or laptops. They had ran non-stop all day and wouldn’t likely need to be watched over any. They were good kids and she was damn proud of them. She headed on down in the cool moist ocean air to the bar on the beach. Though it was an all-inclusive hotel, hard liquor was not included free (unless it was Tequila) and she wanted to warm her belly with a few Whiskey Sours before turning in.
She walked through the night, heading over to the little tiki bar and ordered a drink. The man flashed her a smile and thankfully spoke near perfect English as he gave her the drink. She savored it slowly, sipping, enjoying the sound of the waves slapping at the beach. She hadn’t realized just how much she needed this until she had arrived. Life and work had just been cornering her, suffocating her, and now, she could just relax, and be herself. She finished the drink, and started another, when she suddenly had the urge to pee. It might have been the breeze, or drinking too much today, but she sat down her drink, told the bartender she would be back, and then rushed off to the ladies room.
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He watched as she got up, rushing off to the bathroom. He chewed quietly on a toothpick, eyeing her drink. She wasn’t remotely like the typical chica he chose. Typically he looked for the young and dumb type, the kind with neglectful parents. Maybe too rich and too spoiled, the kind that could go missing for a night and would feel so ashamed that they would keep their mouths shut. Plus, young was always fun to break in.
This one was nothing like that however. First, she was old by his standards, late 30’s or maybe early 40’s. She was also on the chunky side, a bit too curvy for his tastes normally. The tits were fantastic however, just huge delicious melons that didn’t sag too much. She looked good without makeup on, which was a rarity in his experience. Not many wrinkles at all and heavily freckled. None of that was what drew his attention however. None of that mattered at all. It was the eyes. Even when she smiled she had those eyes. He had heard before the old saying that the eyes were windows into your soul. If that was true, and in his experience it was, her windows were battered, dingy, and broken. Young was fun, but broken was always a good time and safe as well.
He watched as she got up and from a quick gust of ocean air and a bit too short of a dress, it was clear she wasn’t even wearing panties. In his mind, that was asking for it anyway. The broken ones were always like that. Exposed, a live wire, ready to be destroyed again and again. He’d seen it firsthand with the occasional girl, always a poor one, almost never white, that they risked stealing away for good. They’d protest, they’d fight, but far too soon, they’d just accept their new reality. They cried a lot, but they came all the time. They didn’t cry about what he or his men did. They cried because they knew they deserved it. This one had the stink of money about her though, not rich, but white and well enough off to make a stink if she disappeared. But for the night? Prime material.
When she suddenly got up to run to the bathroom, he went up to her stool. The man behind the counter raised his eyebrow, but a couple hundred American tossed his way silenced him. With a practiced hand, a few pills were dropped in her drink and he stirred quickly, dissolving them. He then sat on the stool next to hers and ordered a drink. He sipped his while he waited, smiling friendly, as she returned. She quickly resumed drinking, finishing it, and then waved for a third. He almost chuckled as he might not have even needed the pills. But soon enough, it was clear they were having an effect on the woman.
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She walked back and sat back down relieved. She didn’t know if it was from all the sun, but she was thirsty, quickly knocking back the drink and ordering another. She nursed the last one, but she felt funny, off, as she did so. She figured she must have been more dehydrated than she had realized because the drinks hit her far harder than she had expected. She had wanted a little warmth in her belly, but she was buzzed. No, check that, she was beyond that. She clumsily waved over the bartender and paid her bill, adding a small tip. She wasn’t supposed to tip the staff, but it was her habit and one that she hadn’t broke while here. He accepted it and bid her to have a good night. She stood up, and nearly stumbled in her first step, keeping herself upright. She headed back towards the hotel proper, and as she entered the hallway, she was already leaning against the wall. She felt completely off, as everything refused to come into focus for her. She stumbled hard and would have fallen, if not for a nice gentleman catching her.
“Are you alright ma’am?” he asked. Again she was surprised with the excellent English skills of many of the people here. At least the touristy parts, that is. She nodded, struggling to speak.
“I...I… drunk a bit much. More than, it’s just hitting me. I just need to get room and lie down,” she said, her words heavily slurred. He nodded, helping her walk, as they headed to the elevator.
“Si, si. I’ll help you to the elevator ma’am. What floor are you on? What room?” She smiled at him, appreciating the help. She felt so fuzzy, almost detached from her body.
“Umm….I… Ummm,” she muttered, struggling to remember. “F….Five…Five thirty one.” He nodded and she leaned against the kind man as he pushed the button and supported her as the elevator came down. She walked in with his help and leaned her head against the wall. The room was spinning now, whether her eyes were open or closed. As soon as the door opened, he helped her down the hall. She was struggling and was so relieved when he told her that they were there. She went into the room, not even wondering how he had gotten in, when she realized that this room wasn’t hers at all. She struggled to even form a word, mumbling, when she felt him push her onto the bed. She could barely focus on him as he pulled out a phone, talking to someone. Then her world turned black.
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He watched at the thick American whore blacked out on the bed. Technically, it was supposed to be a storage area, but about once a month, sometimes more, there would be a “party” and this cumrag would be their toy for the night. They already had the old bed pulled out and set up. He tried not to think about how filthy it was. Blood and cum stains were clearly visible, along with those of questionable origin. He pulled out his phone, staring down at the old woman as her rolled up in her head. He called his contact, flipping up the woman’s dress, running his hand along her solid legs.
“Come on down, Rodriguez, and make sure someone is collecting the money. No freebies like last time,” he said. He spread the unconscious woman’s legs and smiled at her bald cunt. It was a fat pussy for a fat bitch. He had no doubt it had been well used. He parted her thick lips and felt her wetness. Yes, the broken ones were always ready. They existed only to fuck and use until one day no one had a use for them anymore. This one still was healthy at least, and had a few miles left on her body. He unzipped and pulled out his cock, stroking it. He wasn’t one for going last and wanted it before it was worn out by constant use. It was less fun than when they were awake and confused, but at least he wouldn’t catch anything either.
He pulled her legs over his shoulders, and was amazed at how easily he slid into her. She was wet, not loose, though no one would ever accuse her of being tight. Her pussy gripped him well enough, however, as she started thrusting deep in the American slut. That was all she was to him now, conscious or not; a set of holes to release in. He had no doubt; he thought as he pumped his cock deep in her silky cunt, that had he attacked her she would have given in. The weak ones always did. They knew they were shit, they were trash, and that they were cumdumps. He leaned into her on the bed, thrusting harder and harder. He spit on the woman, disgusted with how her and her ilk used and abused the people here, taking the best for themselves and letting the actual citizens live in the worst parts of the city. He watched as the spit ran down her cheek, her body limp, her cow udders swaying back and forth as he quickened his pace. He thrust deep in her as he came, splashing her pussy with warm cum. She muttered weakly, but nothing more as spurt after spurt filled her. He wondered if she was on birth control. It was extremely likely that she would catch something tonight. If not pregnancy, then the clap or some other disease. As the night went on, they’d charge less as she got messier and messier. That’s why they never reported, the women he procured. They knew, by the end of it, just how debased and ruined they were.
He pulled out, wiping his cock on her thigh, then zipped himself up. They would be here soon and he needed to get the drinks and everything ready. Some of them might not be happy that a turn had already been taken, but he didn’t care. She had two other holes and a wonderful set of tits to fuck. And that is all that mattered.
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The first thing she became aware of was movement. It was slow, rhythmic, and somehow strangely nauseating. She also felt pain, strange and deep, like stomach pains but lower. She fluttered her eyes again and again, trying to focus on the world around her. A strong musky smell, of sweat, stale cigarettes, cheap beer, and sex pervaded the air, assaulting her nose. Her eyes refused to focus, but she could make out the shapes well enough. She’d been here before. Not drugged, but drunk, surrounded by men. Her left tit suddenly exploded in pain and she winced, moving a bit. The pain sharpened her focus to reveal a man rutting in her, fucking her, as he bit down on her breast. By the deep pain in her crotch, he wasn’t the first either.
She glanced around, almost passing out again from the simple movement, as her vision wavered. The room was full of men, Mexicans, smoking and drinking. She didn’t feel his cum, she was still too out of it for that, but felt his shudder and urgent thrusting, before stopping and getting off of her. She moaned weakly, trying to form words, but her body still wasn’t reliably responding to her. A fat, ugly man gripped her legs, and then stepped away, letting her legs drop. She could barely feel the cum running down her legs, and it felt like some had pooled against her ass. He muttered something in Spanish and someone handed him a condom, putting it on. She wanted to be relieved by that action, but it was clearly for his protection, not hers. With a hard thrust he pounded her, his weight pressing her hard to the bed. Hearing her moan, he smiled, forcing his mouth and tongue in hers. She struggled to get him off of her, but she was too weak, too out of it, to do anything but take it.
After a couple long minutes, he came, and then pulled out of her increasingly hurt pussy. She glanced down and whimpered at her very red and swollen gash, tortured from overuse. How many men here had already fucked her she wondered, when the man pulled off the condom and squeezed out his cum on her face. After little more than a moment, another man shoved himself in her, his hips pistoning into her cunt. Warm cum bubbled around his cock and ran down her ass, pooling there against the bed and her as she slowly began to get more control of her body and her senses as whatever she was drugged with began to wear off. She thought briefly about screaming, but didn’t. She knew it would be no use and would only lead to more pain. Instead, she whimpered as she felt the new man shudder, empting another load in her messy hole. As that man pulled out of her, a huge Mexican came forward, towering over her. He was well over six feet tall and probably over 250 pounds. She heard some of the men there start chanting “mula”, as the man stripped down. She tried to pull back as she understood why they were chanting. The man’s cock was obscene, probably close to a foot, thick, and as filthy looking as the man himself. She actually could smell him as he drew close, grabbing her legs and dragging her to the side of the bed. He took her legs, as she struggled, finally screaming.
“Please, no, don’t, just let me go…” she tried to scream, as adrenaline sharpened her focus and awareness. He bent her in half, or as close as she could, and she grunting under his weight, crushing her into the bed. She moaned, shaking as he pressed his monster into her pussy, splitting her lips wide. The feeling was both immediately pleasurable and painful. Her pussy had been abused by multiple men but nothing like this fullness she suddenly felt. Her raw folds were stretched to their limits and then she screamed in sudden pain as he thrust and bottomed out against her cervix. She whimpered as he hammered it again and again, crying freely now. Then she felt exposed as he pulled out and her lips slowly closed as she was turned over. “NOoooo…no…god…stop…stop….help!!” she screamed, as his arm was pressed hard into the back of her neck and her face was painfully shoved deep into a pillow, stifling her screams as she felt probing at her ass.
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He watched as the “Mule” flipped over the fat American whore. The Mule was a mainstay at these parties, and he always got first shot at the girl’s asses, destroying them. He had actually sent two different girls over the years to the hospital with that cock of his, tearing their guts up. Both had survived, but likely never, ever forgot the experience. The woman was, for her part, trying to fight but the Mule was just too big and strong for the stupid pig. She had no chance, and her struggling only excited the crowd. He watched as the massive man placed all his weight on her body, forcing her head down into a pillow to shut her up. The fans and equipment down there covered up most sounds, but it never hurt to shut them up, just in case. It did little though once the Mule started pressing at her ass. The woman bucked violently, thrashing, her voice muffled. The Mule greased up his monster cock and kept battering at her ass, making slow progress. When the tip finally pierced her, everyone in the room heard the scream. She almost sounded likely she was hyperventilating in panic as he kept reaming her, deeper and deeper, rearranging her guts. That was why they were here, to get some measure of vengeance against these bitches and rich bastards who come down and make them cater to them, in their own country. It was humiliating and now it was their turn to return the humiliation.
He had to smile as the woman wailed, which only caused the Mule to push her head down harder into the pillow and plow into her ass harder. Blood already streaked his cock as he pull back and pushed forward, working it deeper and deeper into her. He was only halfway in, her shitter stretched and red, thin streaks of blood running down as her sphincter was stretched beyond it limits, too much, too fast. Her legs spasmed in cleared agony, though it was hard to hear her anymore. Inch by inch, he battered more in, as the woman’s ass was filled with cock. Before long, with the blood acting as a lube, the Mule was humping her furiously in short, brutal jabs. The idea that a foot of thick cock had slid inside her, the smell of sex, blood, shit, and smoke and alcohol drew the crowd into a frenzy, egging him on.
He found himself carried into the excitement, cheering along, laughing when the dumb American cunt pissed herself. After that, the fight was clearly out of the woman as she went limp under the Mule’s abuse. Not long after, the man came in her. He watched as the Mule shuddered, then pulled out with an almost sickening sucking sound. The woman slumped to the side, as the Mule grabbed a dirty towel and wiped the mess off of his cock. The woman’s ass gaped wide open, a bloody cum leaking out of it. He laughed, and walked up, slapping the woman, trying to rouse her.
She didn’t move when he hit her. In fact, she was pale, deathly pale. His heart hammered as he looked around the room, nervous for the first time. This was something new, something he’d never had to deal with. He knew at least some of the women he’d sold instead of simply partied with had had short lives, but he’d never done anything directly himself. He turned the American on her back, realizing that the Mule had smothered her on the pillow. She hadn’t hyperventilated; she had been trying to breathe. He panicked, feeling for a pulse, when the woman suddenly gasped. He nearly screamed, and the men sighed in relief, as she took air in again. It was weak, shallow, but enough. He slapped the unconscious woman hard, angry at the scare she had put the men through. Her head snapped, limp, as he jerked down his pants furious. He slipped on a condom and slammed his cock into her torn and bleeding ass, fucking it angrily.
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The first thing she became aware of was pain, fire, in her bowels. The next, was that her head hurt, bad. She could barely think or string a thought between the two of those sensations. She slowly realized she was on her back again, and the man from the bar was fucking her again, reaming her ass. He looked furious to her and she didn’t know why. Her face ached, her lungs hurt and she remembered vaguely, the first real thought returning to her, the fight for air. The terror as she struggled, gasping into the pillow, not getting enough. Then finally nothing. She had thought she was going to die, but she had no idea how close she had came. Now, it was just grunting as the man stiffened inside her, climaxing.
Six more men took turns with her ass, during which she blacked out twice from the pain. Thinking was still a struggle as she floated in and out of consciousness. By the time the last man was done, her ass was gaped open, with blood and shit smeared on her ass and legs where they had wiped off on her. She rolled to her side, crying. A couple more had her suck them off, and another man nutted in her pussy after a few jabs, and they started filing out. She looked up at the clock, shocked to realize that she had spent just 3 hours here.
The man who had likely drugged her, after the men had left, came over and jerked her up by her hair. She whimpered, standing up, her crotch and ass hurting so bad. Cum was caked on her face and around her thighs and ass, along with blood and a small bit of shit. He walked her, hand gripping her neck painfully, to the bathroom. She was shaking when he shoved her in front of the sink and mirror. “Mierda”, was all he said to her, but she knew what he had said. Shit. And she looked it. She looked and felt like a used up whore. He gripped her hair, jerking her head back, as she felt him slam deep into her ass in one thrust. She cried again from the pain, fresh blood dripping out of her ass, as he made her watch herself be anally raped. She looked in the mirror and saw a tired woman, old, bags around her eyes. She watched herself wince with every stab deep in her ass, as her body was pressed against the cold porcelain. He came one last time and pulled out, shoving her down.
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He watched her wince in pain as she hit her knees. She was clearly exhausted from the events so far tonight. He didn’t care about any of that. She was clearly still dull and sluggish from either the drugs or the near suffocation she had experienced. He needed to know it was safe to release her. He was pretty sure, but he needed to know absolutely that she wouldn’t talk. Only once had he been wrong, though, and sadly that stupid girl had to disappear. He didn’t know what happened to her, what brothel or drug lord bought her, to use her up.
He jerked hard on the old whore’s head, waving his bloody condom covered cock against her lips, fresh crimson, speckled with shit. Her eyes were blank, that empty used up void the broken ones always had. He shoved in her mouth, humping her face, and she sucked him, cleaning him, without even being ordered to. Once he felt sufficiently clean he pulled out, stripping off the condom before shoving in her mouth again. He held her head tight, thumbs holding her eyes wide open as he pissed in her throat. He got nothing from it sexually; it was just the final humiliation, the final marking so they knew where things stood. The whore obediently drank it down, visibly shuddering as she swallowed the salty liquid.
He jerked her up, and pulled her messy dress off her body. She stood there naked, numb and dumb, not doing anything until he decided to reach in and turn on the shower. She reacted to the cold water hitting her, but seemed to finally understand as she washed her body. He wondered if that lack of air hadn’t killed a few brain cells or if she was always this stupid. As soon as she was done, he threw a filthy towel at her, watching her dry herself off. She stood there, goosebumps over her body, and he just wanted to hit her. She just disgusted him for some reason. Instead he handed her the dress and walked her out into the hallway.
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She walked out with him, every step hurting. He hadn’t spoken a word to her since he had called her shit. And she felt it, to the core of her being, she felt it. Though her body was freshly cleaned, it felt covered in scum. She knew the first thing she had to do as soon as she got home was to be tested. She had no idea if the men were clean, but the man beside her wore one with her, and most of the men didn’t.
She let him lead her to the elevator, staring at her feet as she walked in pain. She looked at him, shaking, and leaned in, trying to kiss him. She didn’t know why she did it, just a hope of some human contact. A deep need perhaps to be accepted. Regardless, he just pushed her away and she barely kept herself together. Instead she walked into the elevator and rode up to her floor. She stepped out, and walked down the long hallway to her room.
It seemed, she thought to herself, that no matter where she went, she couldn’t escape who she truly was.