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Delicia Ch. 01

By: TeresaJ



Delicia looked at her laptop. It sat on her small PC desk, a kit desk her husband bought her at a discount warehouse. He assembled the desk. She bought the laptop.

It was 10 p.m. and she had just put her two daughters to bed. Young girls, innocents.

They were boisterous, but they had quieted down. Galeez, only 5, and Beatriz, 8. They shared a room down the hall, which was across the kitchen and living room from the master bedroom.

Her son, Noel, 15, was hard at work, struggling to finish his math assignment in the living room.

Delicia's husband, working a second shift, wouldn't be home until 2:30 a.m. at the earliest.

Delicia spent her evenings without her husband. She fell asleep alone, five nights a week. She hated it, but it was a dull hate that she was resigned to live with.

She loved her husband of 17 years, but they had drifted apart. 

She had fond memories of their dating years, their honeymoon phase. He was young and fit and physically well-endowed where it counted. He had a quiet and sweet temperament and was playful in bed.

But he was undisciplined in her personal habits. He ate too much. He drank too much. He was lazy. He grew fat. He became a drunkard.

Time wasn't kind to him. He became obese and short of breath and the lovemaking changed for the worse. She did all the work in bed. Sometimes, she faked orgasms. She didn't used to have to do that.

She encouraged him, would plead with him to take care of himself. But he didn't put in the effort and as time passed, she became disappointed with him, with what she felt she was missing.

But he was a nice man, a good provider, a good father. She wanted to stick it out. But what once was something she thought was forever changed into something that made her think: "Stick it out ... for how long?"

And that thought, it was like a dagger of doubt in her heart. It frightened her. She felt vulnerable to temptation.

Then there was the affair. That one slip-up that turned into a torrid two-year, heart-pounding, gut-wrenching race into obsession and insanity.

It was behind her now. She was grateful on most days that she wasn't so out of control. But the fear of a relapse was ever-present.

She had changed. She had broken once, treated like a slut by her lover. She came away from that shattered and it had taken her years to put the pieces of her psyche back together. And something dark festered in her, always under the surface, this nagging dread of the proximity of her dark side.

So she would go to her laptop, and log into adult chat rooms. She never intended to meet any of the men she had chats with. She was careful to hide her identity. 

It was just her guilty pleasure. A naughty chat, some role-play. She would masturbate. She would stay with it until she came and then, no matter where the conversation was, she would log off. She would escape back into her safe world. Her real world.

Delicia knew the difference. She knew that good women who protect their reputation wonder what it would be like to go to the dark side, to be the temptress, to be that sensuous slut.

She had a taste of that side. But it was like a mighty octopus that wrapped its tentacles around her and dragged her deeper in. It filled her with fear and self-loathing. It made her sick to hide her sins from her family, her neighbors and co-workers and her church.

She had escaped it once. She didn't want to go back down that path, but something in her kept her stuck at the crossroads of good and bad, and she was always looking at what might wait for her down the other road.

And it certainly didn't help her powers of restraint that she was beautiful.

Even at 38 years of age, she was a breathtaking vision of sexual vitality. 

The daughter of a tall, athletic Puerto Rican father and a curvy Mexican mother, Delicia was a cinnamon-colored woman with thick shoulder-length dark brown hair.

She had olive-brown eyes, a broad nose on a handsome face. She carefully kept her eyebrows sleek and narrow. She had full lips that she liked to paint a dark plum.

She stood 5 feet, 8 inches tall. She weighed 165 pounds. She had a 42D-32-44 figure and she was meticulous about her wardrobe. She like her clothes to fit tight without being slutty. She wore size 16 or 18 dresses.

She was a curvy, voluptuous, athletic mama who power-walked in the park, and fastidiously kept up with her pilates exercises. 

But she didn't do it all for her husband. She did it for herself. And she did it because she enjoyed the looks and compliments she got from other men.

She wasn't a flirt, but she could be coy and gracious when complimented on her body. She was as vain as any woman.

And she had a killer body. She just didn't know what to do with it.

"If I was a slut. What if I was a slut? A dirty cum bucket whore?"

This is what she asked herself, every time she turned on the laptop. This is what haunted her, the way her one affair haunted her, the way her sexual appetite tormented her.

And she would tell herself, "I can't. I can't be that. I would disappoint my parents, shock my friends, be a horrible example to my children. I would break my husband's heart. I would be so ashamed, my reputation would be shredded. I've worked so hard, tried so hard to behave, to preserve a normal family environment."

But she could be a virtual slut. She could do that. It felt safe.

So she turned on the laptop and searched for her favorite adult chat room and signed on under her username: SlutWife.

Her profile exaggerated her sexual depravity. 'Curvy latina MILF, cheating slut who fucks the men in the neighborhood when hubby is away. Here for chat, roleplay.'

And that was all she wanted. She would have been content with that guilty pleasure. But the men invariably wanted more. And as time passed she found it difficult to maintain a contact that was good at keeping her horny unless she shared more of herself.

Her first concession was to start emailing provocative photographs of herself. Darkened images of her backside naked, crotch shots of her black bush pussy. Profile pics of her pulling at her nipples.

It was naughty but it seemed safe.

But they always wanted more of her. Another pic, a nastier pic. And there were constant requests for phone sex.

That was her next concession. She gave in and had voice conversations through online messenger accounts.

The more they saw of her, the more they heard her voice, they more demanding they were for a meet-up.

Some offered her free plane tickets. Some offered her much more.

A few men turned out to be - or pretended to be - California pornography producers. One offered her thousands of dollars to go on camera for group sex. The thought both intrigued and terrified her. She turned him down, but she kept asking herself, "What if I did?"

The nights kept coming. Her loneliness kept her in front of her laptop after the children were in bed.

By day, she was up early and hurried to get the children ready for school. She went to her job. She worked in the bakery of a grocery store, making and selling pastries. 

She got off her shift at 3 p.m. every day, Monday through Friday, and was home in time to greet her daughters as the school bus dropped them off at the corner of their block.

She walked them home, one and then the other.

She prepared dinner.

And on weekends, she spent time with her husband. They shopped together, ate out together, went to movies or a bowling alley or a park. They tried to make up for lost time.

Every Saturday morning, she made love to him. And every Sunday evening, she made love to him. Twice a week. It was their special time.

But Monday night came too soon.

And there they were, right in her bedroom of all places. All those other men. Those lusty, perverse, wicked men who thought she was a filthy whore. And how she tried to keep them believing it.

There were times, when she was carried away with her own lust, that she believed she was everything they wanted her to be. A cock-starved cum bucket whore.

Ten years had past since the affair ended. And seven years had passed since she had begun chatting with strange men.

Her willpower weakened with each passing month.

She kept in touch longer with the men she had in her contact list. She had become more reluctant to delete them.

And in the past year, since she turned 37, she had given in to one of the most taboo forms of media.

SlutWife's profile was updated. By age 37, she had moved past mere online chat or role-play: "Curvy latina MILF, cheating cock-loving slut. I'm fucking the neighbors, and when I'm not sucking down their cum I am here for voice sex or cam2cam sex."

She had begun to have cam-to-cam sex. Masturbating with her partners.

Not only did they have pics of her, they saw her live, heard her live. She stripped naked live and let them fuck with her head in vile ways.

Fucking herself on camera with a dildo while she professed herself a whore. Showing her backside and taking instructions to shove objects up her asshole - bottles, vibrators, beads, butt plugs, vegetables.

"Yes baby, ooooo yes, I'm a dirty whore. I'm a dirty fucking whore. Oh yes, I do need your cock. Oh my god yes. You have a fucking delicious cock," she would happily exclaim, giving in to their every on-camera demand.

Domineering perverse men of all kinds tried every trick they could think of to drive her insane with lust, to get her so hot that she would slip and give in, and finally consent to go be the whore she pretended to be.

But Delicia was well-grounded. She always had enough sense of her place to remember what she had to lose. And she cut them off before they brought her to that.

She held herself to a few strict rules.

"Never give my real name. Never give my real location. Never give my phone number."

She thought that was enough. She thought she could keep it all under control, and that she would never ever be caught.

She was wrong.

*  *  *  *  *  *

Jerome was a 58-year-old, divorced auto parts store manager. His fourth wife left him nine years before he found Delicia online.

Jerome and Delicia had a two-year online relationship before she finally slipped up.

Jerome was a heavy-set, 6-foot Anglo misogynist who was interest in women too young for him. The women he did date couldn't tolerate him for more than two or three sex dates. But he kept chasing them, so he could demean them, treat them like meat.

Then he met Delicia, who surprised him by agreeing almost immediately to voice sex. By the time she encountered him in a chat room, she had gotten past that inhibition.

But it took him another year to get her to consent to cam-to-cam sex.

She was difficult to find online. But there was a pattern. She would contact him two or three times a month. And the sessions were satisfyingly long, usually three to four hours.

And she let him treat her like trash. He loved that.

He would leave his account open constantly, waiting for her to appear. Her window would pop up and the 'SlutWife' who claimed her real name was Anna would start the chat with a simple, "Hello."

Hello, Anna.

"Hey daddy," she would answer, as their relationship had developed into a pseudo incestuous sub daughter/dom daddy constant stream of oral and visual depravity.

Open your video chat, whore!

"Yes, daddy!"

She always appeared with her clothes on, slightly nervous and her voice had a tremor to it. She would often look down, timid as she began about looking into the face of an evil man, and she knew to her core that Jerome really was an evil man.

He would pant, leer and lick at his lips and grunt out orders: Show me your tits, cunt. Open that fucking blouse, you fucking whore.

"Mmmm, oh yes papa."

She unbuttoned, still looking down, her own chest jaggedly sucking in air as her bedroom got hotter. She pushed her blouse off one shoulder, then turned and stripped the other shoulder. She pulled it off and then reached behind to undo her bra. She would lift up her heavy full breasts and ask in a husky quivering voice, "Do you like my titssssssss daddy?" 

Pinch your nipples for daddy, slut. Yessss. That's it. Pull them. Pull them HARDER, you fucking whore. God, what a nasty brown slut you are! You fucking horny bitch. Pull them. Pinch them. Yessss, stretch them out, make them pointy, you hot cocksucker.

You got that black dildo ready, fuck-face? Get it and show daddy how you love cock, yeah, you're a fucking whore. Daddy's gonna make you a fucking whore. Would you like that?

"Mmm oh yes daddy, I need you. I need you to make me a dirty fucking whore. Oh, I wanna be a whore so bad!"

Suck it. Yes. Mmmm, yeah baby. Daddy's going to make you a whore, just like you want. You have no idea how nasty daddy is going to make you, you cum-sucking hot nympho whore.

"Oh mmmm," she said as she slurped and sucked on the dildo. "Yes daddy!"

Stand up, cunt. Stand up and suck that dick. Suck that dirty fat black cock, you cock greedy fucked up crack whore! Oh yea. You love it, you dirty girl. You love all of that fat black cock.

"Mmmmm uh huh! Oh yes daddy. Mmmm, slurp. Oh I just can't get enough."

Jerome watched her. He pulled out his stiff white penis and stroked on camera and said: I wish I had you here so you could suck mine like that. When are you going to give in bitch? When are you going to stop playing games and come be my whore. I'll set you up, give you all the gang-banging I know you crave. You'll love it, too. I promise. I know a real slut when I see one and you're a real slut.

Delicia panted and got hotter as he pushed her to do the one thing she was tempted to do but would never, not ever give in to. She reached into her shorts and rubbed her clit.

That makes you so hot, Jerome said. I know it does. Look at you. You want to be my whore. When are you going to leave that dumb-ass husband of yours and do what you really want to do?

"Oh daddy. You know I can't. I have children. I have a life, a reputation. This is the best I can do."

Fuck all that, Jerome argued. You fucking whore. You're a whore. That is your true nature. You need to play with a lot of cock. A whole lot of cock. How many horny men do you chat with anyway? How many, besides me?

"I don't know."

Holy shit, there's so many of them that you don't know? You're a fucking whore! Just admit it!

"Mmmm nnnnnnnn yessss daddy, I'm a fucking whore! I'm a nasty whore."

Get those shorts down! Show daddy your pussy, slut! Yes, mmmm shit. God you are so fucking hot. Smoking hot. Oh my God, I want to bang all your holes so fucking bad. I'm going to get you, one of these days, I'm going to get you. You know that? I promise I'll find your damn ass and make you my whore!

That body belongs in porn movies. Oh my fucking god. Pull those hot pussy lips apart. Hold that cock in your mouth and show daddy your clit, you nasty slut! Fucking wet dirty bitch!

Now shove that black cock in your pussy. Show daddy how you love to fuck on that monster.

"Nnnnnnnn oh, yes. Thank you daddy. Mmmm thank you for letting me fuck it! Ooooo!"

And she would insert her fat black dildo in her vagina and do violence to herself. Jamming it in with rapid deep strokes. Jamming it like a woman possessed. She panted and humped her hips and smiled into the face of evil, completely unaware that she had lingered with this man too long.

He drove her to fuck herself to a hard sloppy squirting orgasm, releasing her fluids onto the tiled floor beneath her feet as he spewed filthy expletives into her ears and tattooed her heart with blackness.

Jerome was in his own state of sexual frenzy as he watched her cum. 

Now I'm going to jack my jizz all over your face whore! You want me cum, slut? Want me to cum on your face, you filthy skank bitch?

"Oh yesssss daddy! Nnnnn please, please cum all over my face," Delicia said in all sincerity. 

She had sent Jerome many pics of herself and their sessions usually ended with him printing one of her portraits. He would jerk off over her picture while she furiously rubbed her clit and pinched at her nipples, squirming with unbridled hot lust in anticipation of his ejaculation.

And when he showed her his fresh semen dripping on her face, it drove her to a lust so intense that at times she would nearly feint. She was always light-headed in these moments.

Their sex chats often took detours into her life and he made every effort to get her to open up about herself. 

She had confessed in great detail her affair. She had told him every intimate detail about her lovemaking with her husband. He knew her medical history, her education history. He knew how often she went to church and with whom she associated by first names. He knew when her son lost interest in soccer and took up the guitar.

But he didn't know her real name, or where she lived. He knew only that she lived in Texas, and because she had once made the mistake of sending him a photo of her in a restaurant, Jerome knew by the logo on the drink at her table that she was in a southeast region of Texas because that fast-food chain didn't have restaurants anywhere else.

But tonight, he had a new piece of information. A very special piece of information.

He noticed it almost immediately. Delicia had a dresser-drawer across the bedroom. Behind her, sat upright an pamphlet. 

Jerome had never seen it before. And he wasn't sure what it was exactly, but it caught his interest. When he dismissed his whore, he saved the video file. He saved all of their video chats, another piece of evidence Delicia never considered.

Jerome played the video back. He waited for a clear view. He had choreographed Delicia's movements to keep her to one side of the screen so he would record plenty of video of the pamphlet.

At one point, Jerome told her to turn on a lamp so he could see her pussy better. 'I want to watch your juices glisten in the light, you're such a wet oozing horny cock magnet aren't you?'

But the light highlighted the background. He froze the video on a frame that brought it into clarity and photographed it. He took the photo into a photo edit program and zoomed in.

Jerome grinned and said, "I've got you! I've got you, you fucking whore! Oh, you are mine! You are my little hot cunt. I'm gonna fuck that hole!"

* * * * * *

Delicia Ch. 02



Twelve years earlier, 1998; Delicia, age 26; Humberto, age 41:

Humberto had been out of the penitentiary for three years. As soon as he was again the patronly figure in his own home, he started taking the family to church, to Delicia's church.

Delicia was 23 and practically a newlywed. She had been married two years and she had a baby son.

Humberto took the family to church as part of his efforts to reform his image. He wanted to set a better example to his children. 

His daughter, Paulina, was only 13 when her father came home. He had been in prison for seven years, so she barely knew him but she harbored illusions of his as a gallant, working class man, a victim of a corrupt judicial system. Humberto's son, Pedro, was 15 when his father came home and Pedro was already enmeshed in the same activities that sent his father to prison.

Pedro sold drugs, just as his father had before him. Aged 38 upon his release, and still on parole, Humberto cultivated good relations with the pastor, who vouched for his character with the parole officer. The pastor helped Humberto get a job.

An industrious man, ever the hustler, Humberto soon started his own general contracting business. He went from bricklaying to concrete forming and was soon landing jobs preparing foundations.

Everything seemed to be going well for him. But Humberto's wife Gladys saw another side. Two years older than her husband, Gladys was 33 when he was sentenced and led away from the courtroom in handcuffs.

In Humberto's mind, his wife was still a good looking woman and a good fuck when he began his sentence. But once freed, he came home to a 40-year-old woman who had changed too much for his taste.

She had had seven years of freedom from his abuse. Seven years since he had used her like a whore. Sex with him had always been extreme. He pushed her to her physical and psychological limits. He was a dirty-talking, ass-slapping, alpha dog who had kept his bitch on a tight leash. She had been free of his leash for seven years and she wasn't sure about how she felt letting him put the collar back on.

But she didn't have much to worry about. He saw a woman that had put on 55 pounds. Her face sagged. Her whole body seemed to sag. He found her unattractive, and not so politely kept her at a distance.

He didn't want a split. She was still useful, after all. She was his maid, the mother of his children, a good cook. She also vouched for him in the community. And she worked, she definitely pulled her weight. He just didn't have the old fire in him to be the caveman/pimp and give it to her the way he had the urge to give it to a woman.

Whenever they talked about sex, Gladys understood her place. And she was prepared to have him get into extra-marital affairs so long as he remembered to come home after he had had his fun. That became their arrangement, and Humberto's wicked eye began to wander.

It didn't take him long to notice a beautiful young woman in this church they attended. She was 15 years younger than him and easily the hottest woman in the congregation, and he noticed that her husband never attended church. She dutifully came with her son, and sat with her parents through every service.

Delicia was a smart and observant woman, but she had a weakness for bad boys. Her own husband had been in a gang in his youth. He had grown out of that lifestyle, and although he didn't come to church he did take fatherhood seriously.

Delicia was in love and the bloom had not fallen. But she was immediately aware of Humberto's glances. He always seemed to linger near her at church activities and she was always careful to keep distance, or the other women, between her and that man.

It bothered her that she felt an instant physical attraction to him. He was tall, probably the most muscular man in church. He had thighs like tree trunks and a boastful banter.

He was sure of himself and always had an opinion about something. The other men found him endearing in a band-of-brothers way. They seemed to look up to him, even though they should have been wary of him. But he gave convincing testimony as to his reformation.

He spoke earnestly and often of his spiritual enlightenment and volunteered good counsel to the others. He seemed a transformed man, an example of the power of the Lord to redeem the wicked.

His demeanor and expression toward the others softened Delicia's opinion of him. When he engaged her in conversation, she allowed herself to smile and she made an effort to be friendly, just not too friendly.

She was struck by the contrast between Humberto and her own husband. Her husband was lazy, did not help with house chores, not even chores men typically gravitated toward.

Delicia mowed the lawn. Delicia had to fix things around the house or hire a handyman or a tradesman, as her husband was generally useless. She seemed to do all the work and she grew to resent it.

But Gladys wanted for naught and often bragged about what a great husband she had. And it was obvious to the others that he was a great husband, a good man.

Delicia listened to Gladys and the women, looked at Humberto and sighed. Then she pushed him out of her mind as best she could. There was something about him that frightened her; she knew in her heart that if he made a play for her she would have trouble resisting.

So, she kept her distance.

But Humberto did not keep his distance. He was patient, and he patiently made himself useful to her. Acting like some surrogate father figure. He came to the house and fixed her front door when she complained to her own father that the hinges were broken. 

He found a roofer who gave her a good deal when she had a leak. He doted over her son like some loving uncle.

She sometimes nervously looked at his wife, wondering if she objected to the attention he paid to this other, younger woman. Delicia even asked Gladys if she felt anything was improper about their interactions.

Delicia didn't understand that Gladys wanted her husband to open Delicia's legs. And Gladys would never say anything so crude, but Gladys was annoyed by Delicia's beauty and naiveté and thought it would be divine justice for this young tart to find out what a bastard her husband was in bed.

Humberto wasn't entirely patient. Delicia was proving a difficult cunt to crack and he sought out an occasional slut in the usual places, the bars and dance halls frequented by low-income, low-class Mexican putitas.

But he didn't lack for confidence. He knew in his mind that she would eventually give in.

Three years passed. And in that time, Delicia grew increasingly disillusioned with her husband. At age 26, it came to a head for her; she began fights with her husband about his lack of effort, his taking her for granted. The fights got worse and Delicia's temperament at church changed.

Humberto noticed it, and he kept his ears perked and heard from his wife that things were going badly in Delicia's home. "Marriage problems," she told Humberto.

He smiled, patted his wife on her ample ass and treated her neglected clit to a hot tongue fuck. Gladys cried, came, then thank him.

Lying in her own wet spot, soiled sheets rustling, Gladys turned to her husband, rested her head on his chest and asked, "Do you want me to help you fuck her?"

He laughed aloud, slapped her back and said, "Let's talk."

* * * * *

The following Sunday, there was a pot luck lunch in the social hall after the morning service and Gladys was standing beside Delicia, helping to serve plates as the church members went through the line.

Everything seemed innocent enough until the meals were eaten, the conversation had died away and the crowd had dispersed. Gladys and Delicia, on the clean-up team, were among the last to leave.

Humberto walked into the kitchen and stood behind Delicia who was drying pots as Gladys washed.

Humberto, his hand obviously hidden from his wife's view, grabbed Delicia's ass. She became alarmed and Gladys looked at her, knowing what her husband was doing, knowing that Delicia did not know she knew.

Gladys and Humberto talked and Delicia stood silent, blushing, and feeling Humberto squeeze her ass. His hand slid into her crack and a thick hard digit prodded right up to her anus.

She struggled to control her panting. His finger tip slid from her anus down to the entrance to her vagina. She heard voices, their talking, talking, meaningless talking, she couldn't make out the words, all her attention focused on this violation of her person.

He brought his hand up and traced his fingers up her spine, the fabric of her dress seemed to her to scratch so loudly that Gladys must surely notice. But their talking and the rush of water in the sink muffled his attack.

His hand reached for the back of her head, he gripped her hair and lightly tugged. Then he let go, stepped around her and gave his wife a peck on her cheek and told her he would wait outside in the truck.

Gladys taunted Delicia, noticing she was blushing, asking her if she felt ill. Delicia said, yes, she did seem to be coming down with something. But she didn't tell Gladys what Humberto had done. Gladys was prepared to come to his defense and go into a mock rage and call Delicia a liar.

It didn't come to that. Delicia said nothing. And because she said nothing, Gladys smirked and thought to herself, 'Slut! You deserve what you're going to get!'

That night Delicia's husband asked her for sex and she refused. Instead, she gave him her back and thought of Humberto, and she slowly abused her clit until 4 in the morning.

Through the following week, Delicia took breaks from work and family to window shop. She was looking for a look, something that said, "I'm willing" without being so slutty or obvious that the other women at church might be alarmed.

She chose a tight maroon polyester skirt that came to three inches above the knee, a midi, a skirt tighter and shorter than what she usually wore. She looked at herself in the mirror. She approved. She matched it with a sleeveless pink blouse that buttoned up the front and she got a pair of purple faux snakeskin high heels.

If it were just the clothing, the other women would have raised their eyebrows. Delicia was kidding herself. But to make matters worse, she couldn't accept her usual natural look makeup. She put the rouge on heavy on her cheeks. She went with metallic eyeshadow up to the eyebrow. She used a dark plum glossy lipstick. The face was out of character, but Delicia was in heat and she had lost her perspective.

When she entered church at the start of morning services she was instantly self-conscious. It sunk in from the moment she saw her reflection in the lobby window that she looked a little whorish, and people would look. She would draw too much attention.

She blushed and hung her head down, demurely, and with more than a little shame as she took her usual seat next to her mother. Her mother turned to her, smiled then broke into a face that indicated alarm. Mother knew, something was amiss.

The congregation went through morning prayers, Bible reading, a boisterous and uplifting music program. Humberto, who was one of the men going around giving out communion, stood before Delicia as she reached into the gold plated serving dish and took her wafer. She looked at him straight in the eye and swallowed the wafer.

His expression was solemn, serious. He moved on. Delicia watched him walk away, then turned her head to focus on the pulpit. She raised her chin and told herself not to act ashamed of her appearance.

Five minutes into the sermon, she excused herself, walked to the center aisle, then toward the entrance and into the lobby. She was shaking, quivering from head to toe. She didn't know what to do. She saw the water fountain in the lobby and slowly walked to it. 

She leaned over and drank. She drank slowly and she drank for well into a minute. She stopped drinking, brought her spine up straight and walked across the lobby to the exit doors. Would he come? She asked herself this. Why doesn't he come already? What am I doing! I should go back inside. I can't do this!

She turned and walked to the entrance to the sanctuary, to the congregation, to God and godliness. She was at the door, so close to safety. But it opened. 

And he was there. Her devil had arrived. 

He closed the door behind him and stood in her way. He whispered, "Look at you. All painted up and dressed like a pretty young whore. Why did you paint your face?"

She blushed and whispered, "I don't know."

He put a hand on her hip, then his other hand on the other hip. I pulled her to him with his great strength and she immediately felt his erection against her stomach. A sick feeling filled her and she whispered, "Don't."

Don't what, he asked. He reached behind and massaged her ass. She heaved and took in a deep breath and he said, "That's it, get your air, calm yourself down, little mami."

Then her let her go, walked around her, walked away from her, toward the corner of the lobby where the stairs led to the Sunday school rooms on the second floor.

He asked her quietly to come to him. She walked to him. He caressed her hair and then gripped it tight, he pulled her into him and gave her a big wet kiss.

She opened her mouth. He patted her ass and told her to go upstairs. She was nervous, hot, shaking, unsure, but she decided to put herself into his mercy and she walked up as he followed.

Self-conscious that he was behind her as she climbed the stairs, probably staring at her ass all the way up, her heart pounded in her chest so had she could her thump in her ears.

Delicia got to the top and turned the corner, took four steps into the hall when Humberto moved swiftly past her and spun in front of her. His moved frightened her. She felt like a lamb about to be attacked by a wolf.

He swept her torso into his arms and planted an open-mouthed kiss on her lips. She gave in, too curious to know his mouth to resist. His hands went to her ass cheeks and he groped her as their tongues wrestled.

A hand moved away from her ass as she felt him pull her along. She heard a door knob turn. She looked and saw they were at the entrance to the Young Adults Bible study room.

He pulled open the door and she panicked. She pulled away and said, "I can't. This is happening too fast!"

Too fast, he asked in an angry tone. Get in there! A firm grip on her arm, he jerked her in through the door frame, closed the door and shoved her violently against the wall.

A pretty young whore! Look at how you paint your face today. I see you for what you are! You think you fool me? I grabbed your ass last week and what did you do, eh? Nothing!

"Your wife was right there next to us! How could I say anything without causing a scandal?"

You think I care about scandal? About her feelings? Estupida!

You want this?!

He grabbed her hand and placed it on his crotch. She felt an enormous erection throbbing against the palm of her hand. 

"Nnn!" she squirmed under his power. She had a clear vision of this decision being a terrible mistake. Her eyes darted to the door and she had thoughts of escape. Humberto grabbed her jaw. Look at me, slut! I'm going to give you what you need, yes! Look into my eyes, puta!

Delicia looked. And all the pretense of the redeemed man was gone. She saw the eyes of a ruthless predator who saw women as fresh meat. He would devour her soul!

His hand released her jaw and grabbed her neck. He released her wrist and she pulled her hand away from his enraged penis.

But that hand reached between her brown soft full thighs and lifted her tight skirt and in an instant he was cupping, squeezing and fingering her pussy.

Their eyes stayed locked and he grinned and she shivered and squirmed and she looked away and he hissed, LOOK at ME!

His hand squeezed at her throat, a strong iron grip. But the other hand played with a soft touch, arousing her clitoris.

A long, long minute of silence passed between them, eyes locked one each other and intensely unblinking.

She panted. He toyed with her precious little bump. She moaned. He slipped a finger deep, working around her panty to curl his middle finger as he felt under the moist flesh that covered her pubic bone.

She heard a foot shuffle and he lightly kicked the inside of her right ankle. "Abre tus piernas mamacita." (Open your legs, pretty young mother), he commanded.

Delicia resisted. He patiently repeated the command, tapping at her ankle until she shifted her hips and slid her high-heels foot out eight inches.

He went for the other ankle, and after a few more unanswered commands, his fingers getting her pussy wetter, she slid out the other leg.

He reached into his back pocket, brought up a switchblade and opened it. She took in a quick jagged breath and moaned and cried, "No!"

Shhhhhhhhhh, he sounded as he brought the blade to her lips. He moved the cold steel down and she felt it caress the inside of her thigh. The blade slid under her panty and sliced the cloth away from her left hip. Her panty hung now, clinging to her body by what was left intact on the other hip.

He deftly brought the blade down below her crotch and slice the panty again, this time knicking her inner right thigh with the point. 

"Nnnnnn!" she winced as the cut drew a trickle of blood.

He closed the blade and put it away. Swiftly, he undid his belt and zipper, lifted his erection out into the stale air of the room and in one heaving motion arched his trajectory down, forward and up to plant the head in her vagina.

He released her throat. He put his hands on his hips. His hips made short strokes, barely moving his cock in or out, a mere inch to two inches of male organ just inside her.

Her eyes still locked on his, she watched his lips move as he said, Look at it.

Delicia looked down and saw a thick, long, veiny, dark brown penis barely anchored inside her. It throbbed. It felt solid. It was warm. 

Her body was so tense. Every muscled seemed to be locked in fear, inhibited by doubt and a lifetime of being a good girl.

His body closed the gap between them. His torso pressed into her and his cock slid further inside. He turned his head to lick the side of her neck and whispered as a hand unbuttoned her blouse. MOVE your pussy, mami, he said.

She closed her eyes, exhaled in relief and obeyed. Moving on his cock, trying to pretend for a moment it was her husband's penis. But it wasn't and that effort at fantasy popped like a bubble when he removed her bra and pinched her nipple so hard she winced and bit her bottom lip.

She fucked on his cock as he kept his hips still as a boulder. But as she ground on it, bringing relaxation and pleasure, her pace quickened, she remembered why she went into the lobby and obediently came up the stairs.

"Ohhhhh!" she moaned.

Yessss, he hissed.

He pulled her dangling blouse and brassier away, letting them fall to the floor. She moved steady, strutting her hips back and forth, grinding on his fat, dark, wicked cock. Moaning and shivering with the emanations their sexual coupling caused, sexual radiations rivulating outward throughout her fevered body.

"Que PUTA eres!" he said. (What a whore you are!)

Her hands at first pressed against the wall, rose and embraced him, clawing into his back.

Again, she quickened her pace, feeling herself close to orgasm. She moaned and desperately wanted it. She moaned and fucked on his stone body and groaned a loud 'Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" as her fluids squirted down her legs and down his cock and balls.

She was done. She panted. She had released it. She bit her upper lip with regret. She had sinned! She had fornicated with another man. She wanted to extricate herself, but she was still pinned against the wall and he was still as hard as ever inside her vagina, the head of his penis throbbing at her cervix.




Delicia Ch. 02



He grabbed her jaw again and instantly she knew to look into his eyes. He smiled and she felt him drawing his cock out, but it didn't come all the way out. He stopped.

He slammed it back in so hard she felt a violent thud against her pubic bone and she gave out a shocked gasp.

He draw back and slammed again. 

"NNN!" came her cry.

Both of his hands came up from her hips and grabbed her bared breasts. He squeezed them and pushed them up and dropped his head, putting his mouth into her cleavage. She felt his mouth suck there, suck hard!

"Donnnn't," she cried in desperation.

He was marking her in an obvious spot. Sucking, making a hickey! "Donnn't, no, please donnn't."

He released his mouth and looked at his work and smiled. Mmm, you have some explanations to give your husband, mamacita, or will you try to hide it, he asked.

Delicia was too hot-blooded to blush anymore, but she was ready to leave the room and asked him to let her go. He answered by hammering his cock into her violently. She groaned and his attack came full force.

Slam, slam, slam, slam, slam, slam, slam! He shook her ass as the was plastered against the wall. He gave her a fucking that was meant more to be endured than enjoyed.

She had no cushion. She was being punished for her sin. First the pleasure, now the consequences. 

"Toma, puta!" he growled as he drove himself into her, his sturdy thick thigh muscles delivering power into his thrust that she had never felt before. 

"Toma, puta!" (Take it, whore!) "Asi, putita!" (Like this, young whore!) "Lo vas a recibir siempre!" (You are going to receive it forever!)

She moaned. She gasped. She gritted her teeth. She feared their noises would be heard. She begged him to hurry and cum. He slapped her face. He told her to open her mouth. He spit in her mouth. She closed it in shock and disgust and he spit in her face.

And when finally he was ready to ejaculate and pulled out and grabbed her hair by the back of head and growled, To your KNEES, filthy pig! ("A rodillas cerda cochina!")

Delicia felt her legs give and her weight falling forward. Her knees slammed into the floor. She cried. She watched him cock in hand violently jacking on his cock and then came the white arching liquid ropes of his vitality, finding a landing on her face and her breasts.

Her breath convulsed as she shuddered out her sob. He was using her like a whore!

Humberto bent over and rubbed the palm of his hand on her face and breasts, rubbing his semen all over her like it was some body lotion. He laughed and said, "Que caliente eres, mami. Hay! Te miras pero bien putita."

(How hot you are, young mother. Wow! You look like a true young whore.)

He straightened up his spine. An imposing man with a barrel chest hovered over her. His soiled groin came within inches of her face and he ordered, Suck it!

She looked at his dangling dark cock, still long and engorged with hot blood, glistening with her juices, the point of it dripping semen. She moved her had to it and without hands opened her mouth and used her tongue to catch the head and lift it between her lips.

"Sabes como, a que bueno." (You know how, ah, very good.)

She sucked without passion, her lust had expired. But she wanted to keep him agreeable. She felt him soon soften, his erection transitioning to semi-hard. She licked him clean until he pulled it away from her.

When he pulled up his pants, Delicia took this as a sign that she was free. She put her bra and blouse back on and moved toward the door first. He grabbed her shoulder and said, Don't go back into the sanctuary. No more church for you today.

"Why," she asked, already shaken to her core, she feared another round of whatever this was.

You will not be able to compose yourself, he said. Your mother will know something is wrong. Go home. You can make up some story for her later. Just go home.

"But my son is there," Delicia said.

Your mother will take care of him. Call her from your cell in a little while. Tell her you became sick.

Humberto patted her ass and slithered his arm around her waist and requested a kiss. Delicia gave him a lukewarm kiss and Humberto was not satisfied. The kissing continued until she warmed up again.

She kept telling him he had to get back to his wife, but he didn't seem worried about it. They kissed, they necked. He massaged her body. Delicia felt her passion again so much that she began to grind her stomach against him. He laughed at her for being ready to go again.

She asked him if the sex was always like this with him. He said, ALWAYS Mamacita.

He had to push her away, make her leave. Delicia was confused by her inner conflict. He was so intense, so cruel, but then so sure and patient, bringing her to ecstasy in the next cycle of interaction.

In the weeks and months that passed, Delicia came to him. And circumstances seemed to make it convenient to have this affair. 

Humberto's wife became fascinated with Delicia's son. She doted on him and considered herself like an aunt. She was always offering to take care of him.

This left her opportunities to be alone in her own house with Humberto. He fucked her in her husband's bed. He fucked her in her living room.

And when he didn't fuck her in her own home, he sometimes fucked her in his own home. He fucked her in the bed that Gladys slept in. It was wicked. And Delicia, at first horrified by each act of disrespect for the space of their respective lovers, grew to delight in their wickedness.

She was transforming. Being drawn more into the amoral thinking of a true slut. She knew it was happening and it bothered her conscience, but she was obsessed with Humberto. He was her cocaine.

On the first anniversary of the affair, Humberto was nowhere to be seen. She had hoped for something special. A gift, a dinner date. What she got was something altogether unexpected.

Gladys dropped by unannounced and the two acted like friends. But Gladys seemed to linger too long, in Delicia's opinion. There were long pauses and Gladys turned the topic to her husband and their relationship and this made Delicia uncomfortable.

Delicia heard, but didn't hear. She began to blush, feeling fear that Gladys might yet discover the affair when suddenly she heard, "When are you going to give him a baby?"

"What!" Delicia said in shock.

"What? You have to ask! You've been fucking my husband for a year and you are not pregnant. Why not?" Gladys said in an impatient and accusatory tone.

"You, you knew?" Delicia said.

"You little whore! What? You think I don't know I'm not pretty anymore. I'm not what he wants. The only reason I put up with you bitch is I am too old to be treated the way he treats his lovers. How do you like it? Being his little toy? You piece of trash! You're not even married to him."

Gladys stood up and lunged into Delicia's space and slapped her face, SMACK!

Gladys stood up straight and composed herself. 

"You obviously don't care enough about your husband to respect his bed. Or mine! My bed! You let him fuck your filthy cunt in my bed! Don't you ever say, No, not here?

"It will please him to have a bastard with you. He has asked you for this often enough. Give him his bastard! Make my husband happy."

Gladys turned to leave, then stopped and turned back and slapped Delicia again, then she spit in her face and cried, "Puta!"

And she marched out.

Stunned, burning with shame, Delicia stood up and staggered to her bed and curled into a fetus position and cried. She had always thought Humberto's talk of having a baby was a sick joke, not to be taken seriously.

But the gravity of discovering Gladys had always known made Delicia feel somehow betrayed. Of course, she was also taking care of my son! They had always worked as a team to provide Humberto access.

For three weeks, Delicia refused Humberto's calls. She stopped going to church or anyplace else where they might meet. He came to her door, she refused to open it. She wanted it to end!

But she wasn't through with him. He was the Sun and she was the Earth and her soul was in his gravitational pull. She thought of him constantly.

And after three weeks, she was taking his calls again. But he wanted to punish her for trying to escape. There next sexual encounter was at his place of work.

Humberto was a general contractor. He was at a construction site. He had six laborers busy erecting the framing for a concrete pour. 

Delicia arrived, nervous about a reunion. Wanting makeup sex, but unsure about it at the same time.

She didn't like it, but she dressed in a dark green miniskirt with a white thong. She wore a light green spandex tube top. Her legs were in dark push up stockings that stopped just above her knees. She walked in black high heels.

He wanted her to look slutty. She had dressed like this a few times before and she agreed to do it for this meeting.

She drove into the construction site and got out of her SUV. She walked timidly toward the little one-bed mobile home that Humberto used for an office. 

He took her over to the work site and introduced her to his men. She had never met them before and was not interested, but Humberto hugged her there in front of them and groped her ass for the prurient interests of his men. They hooted and hollered out cat calls and Delicia struggled to push Humberto's hands off her ass. She got mad and said, "Stop it, dammit!"

Humberto decided he had pushed her around enough for one day and took her to his office. He closed the door and for a change he gave her an apology and made gentle love to her.

Delicia cried on her orgasm and feared for her future. She loved this man! And it terrified her now more than ever. She had always imagined that if Gladys found out about them, that would end it.

Delicia wanted to end it. But the Gladys theory was now worthless. Delicia would have to find the courage to extricate herself without anyone's help.

But Gladys' words had a profound affect. Delicia found a new sense of shame for her actions and she became more assertive. There would be no more sex in her home. There would be no more sex in Humberto's home.

Whenever she went to Humberto, she went to wherever he was working. They fucked in his office and she endured how he toyed with her in front of his laborers.

But his talk of knocking her up had new weight when he mentioned it in the throes of their agonized, passionate fucking. She pretended now to want a baby with him, even though she had no such intention.

They fucked more often. But the months went by and nothing. Humberto got angry, accused her of only wanting to be a slut.

You are young, fertile. There is no excuse. You are still on the pill, aren't you!?

Delicia denied she was on the pill. Humberto didn't believe her. He narrowed his definition of her. If she was just being a cheating slut, then he would make a whore out of her!

Delicia was frightened by the way he said it. He had called her a whore so often, what could it mean to 'make a whore out of her?'

But the weeks rolled on and for the most part their lovemaking continued as before. Humberto brought up the subject of a baby once a month, after every period. When their relationship neared its second anniversary, he grew increasingly impatient with her. Then, one day, he talked to her about making a special occasion of their second anniversary.

He talked her into a weekend getaway. They would drive to the coast and spend a Saturday and Sunday in a beachside motel.

Gladys provided the alibi, telling Delicia's husband that Delicia was accompanying her out of town to visit her sick mother.

The trip started out nice. A nice drive in the country. They checked into the motel and made love. Delicia was exhausted by it. Deliciously humiliating, rough prolonged sex.

In the late afternoon, they played on the beach. In the early evening, he took her to a club and they drank liquor and danced. And on the way back to the motel he pulled out something new, marijuana.

She had never smoked. They pulled over by a lagoon and smoked pot in the brisk sea air. She felt its effects and giggled and he kissed and groped her into a state of heightened arousal.

When they got back to the motel, he led her down a different hall. Delicia noticed and said this isn't the way. But he pulled her along, sure of himself and Delicia doubted her own sense of direction.

He opened a bedroom door and led her in, in to a room occupied by Humberto's six laborers. Delicia, alarmed, said, "What is this Humberto?"

He turned, his back disappeared and she saw his face. He sneered.

'You are just a slut,' he said coldly, without emotion. She saw the eyes of a killer. 'No baby for me, no love for you.'

Delicia felt her heart break.

He grabbed her by the throat and hauled her further into the room and threw her on the first of the two queen-size beds. His men pulled her clothes off of her kicking, screaming body.

Humberto sat on the mattress, next to her shoulder and squeezed the cheeks of her face in his calloused hand. She looked at him, looked for mercy.

She felt too many hands pulling her legs apart and the thighs and penis of a man she wouldn't look at appeared to her senses at the entrance of her vagina.

She looked at Humberto and felt another man drill his cock into her. She cried and Humberto said, "Mami puta, you are ready for this."

"Noooo," Delicia said. "I'm not ready!"

"Yesssss, yes you are, Deliciosa," he said. (deliciosa, meaning delicious, was a play on the root form of her name and had been her nickname during their affair).

They toyed patiently with her body. Taking turns treating her like a princess, then like a cheap whore. Coming at her one after the other, driving her to one orgasm after another. 

Humberto, so familiar with her body and her mind, coordinated the onslaught. As she was held in place and fucked, her nipples were sucked and cocks spanked her face.

Her resistance waned. Her lust took over. Her sense of self-respect, of being a lady, chipped away at for two years, was now nothing more than a transparent farce. 

As the first cocks-man withdrew his weapon from her wet soft glove and ejaculated on her stomach, a second took his place and uncovered her clit with his calloused working man's fingers to lick her into further submission, his own phallus dangling above her lips until he chose to drop anchor, Humberto instruction his former slut to open her mouth and accept her fate. 

She gave in. She surrendered. For this night, she was a gang-banging hot curvy slut, making full use of her delicious assets.

But when it was over. When she was home. Once she was alone, and torn with guilt, and bubbling with desire for it all to happen again, Delicia knew she had to make a choice.

Give Humberto a baby? Be a whore? Or end it?

She ended it.

* * * * * * 



Delicia Ch. 03



Twelve years later:

What Jerome found was a church program. Once he zoomed into the photograph, he could read: Pentecostal Nazarene Church of Cloverleaf.

Jerome looked at a map. Cloverleaf was a small town just east of Houston, Texas. Jerome lived in Little Rock. It was time to make a 440-mile trip.

He parked himself in a rental a half block away from the church on a Sunday morning and using binoculars watched as the congregation's members drove one after the other into the parking lot.

When he spotted Delicia's SUV, his cock got hard and grunted, "Gotcha!"

Out of the vehicle she came, dressed in a grey and black striped dress. It fit her tight. The hem was three inches above her knee and the top generously showed cleavage and a gold cross pendant.

Her dark stockings had a sexy thick seam up the back and she wore black spike heels. She had not lied about how she dressed to church. Jerome was a little surprised.

Her two daughters and her son came out next and they walked together into the church. Jerome waited, and after all the people were inside and the parking lot was empty, he got out and walked to her SUV.

Using a jimmy, he opened the front passenger door and carefully went through the glove box. He found her insurance papers and the address to her home: 15844 Lighthouse Point Road.

He looked in the console compartment and found a telephone bill and a paycheck stud. He was giddy with excitement. He knew where she lived, where she worked, he had a way to call her house phone.

Now if only he could find Humberto. He walked through the parking lot and spotted a Dodge Ram king cab truck. It was dusty and scratched up, clearly a construction worker's truck. He walked between the vehicles and spotted the lettering on its side: Menchaca Concrete Forming.

Jerome took down the phone number, confident that he had an ally.

Four hours later, Jerome called Humberto. 

"Mr. Menchaca?"

Yes.

"You don't know me, but we have a mutual interest in Delicia Sanchez."

There was silence. Then a cautious Humberto said, 'I don't know what you are talking about, but I have no interest in Mrs. Sanchez.'

"Oh, I think you do. You spent two years fucking her like a whore."

'Mr. Sanchez, I assure you, I don't know what you have heard but this is a lie!'

"Ha, ha haaaa! This is not her husband. Mr. Menchaca, we need to speak. I have a lot of information about what Delicia has been up to lately, information of a sexual nature. Very explicit sexual details about things she has been doing behind her husband's back. Mr. Menchaca, I need to ask you. How would you like to fuck her again? And I don't mean to be asking if you want to fuck her again. 

"I mean how? You see, I want to turn her into a prostitute. And with what I have and what I know about her, I can do it. But it would be easier with your help. Will you help me?"

There was a pause, then Humberto cleared his throat, "Where do you want to meet?"

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

The following morning, after his talk with Humberto, Jerome walked in to the grocery where Delicia worked. Dressed in a suit and tie, he called on the store manager and introduced himself as a vice unit detective in the city's police department.

He produced a badge and an police department picture ID. He had paid a forger to manufacture authentic looking documents and he easily set aside any thoughts the store manager had about his credentials.

"What can I do for you, Detective Samuels," store manager Tracy Hamm asked, reading off the business card he handed her.

"I have some questions about one of your employees. You have a female subject working here by the name of Delicia Sanchez?"

"Yes, we do. She works in the bakery. Is she in some kind of trouble?" Hamm said.

"We've received a several complaints," Jerome said. "If it were just one complaint, we might not have taken it seriously because it just seemed, well, out of the ordinary for this kind of thing."

"What, what kind of thing?" Hamm asked.

"Some men, three men, have come to us claiming she solicited them from right here in the store. She works a day shift, doesn't she? She gets off work at 3 p.m., would that be correct?" Jerome said.

"Uh, yes. She gets off at 3 p.m. everyday," Hamm said. "Soliciting? What kind of soliciting?"

Jerome reached into a briefcase, opened it and pulled out a yellow envelope. He handed the envelope to Hamm. 

She removed the contents and found in her hand a fake rap sheet printout with official law enforcement markings. It described several prostitution convictions dating 10 to 12 years back, before Delicia worked at the grocery.

The rap sheet was paper-clipped to a series of color photographs of a naked Delicia performing sex acts on herself.

"Oh dear! Oh my goodness," Hamm exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Hamm. I don't know what your relationship is with her, but as you can see she has a history of prostitution. The complaints involve men that approached the bakery between the hours of 2 to 3 p.m."

"Mrs. Sanchez is alleged to have offered this men oral sex in the parking lot, for specific sums of cash, immediately upon her completing her shift.

"We can't ignore this activity and I wanted to inform you, out of courtesy, that we will be conducting a sting operation. It is difficult to get convictions in these cases without police witness testimony of illegal activities."

Hamm, blushing, said she appreciated being informed. But she assured the detective that a sting would not be necessary as she would be firing Mrs. Sanchez immediately.

"If you want to catch her soliciting sex, you'll have to catch her somewhere else. I'm sorry, but I have an obligation to act on this information," Hamm said.

Jerome smiled and told her that wouldn't be a problem. It would save him some paperwork. He stood up, shook her hand and left, exiting the door with a cryptic remark:

"When I catch her, it will be in a more appropriate location, perhaps some cheap motel on the edge of town."

Two hours late, Delicia sat on her front porch in tears. She had been fired and she didn't know why. All she knew was her boss seemed very angry.

Her husband sat beside her, trying to console her about her unexpected misfortune. They talked about money problems and she promised to get another job soon. He told her not to worry her pretty head about it, he was confident this would all turn out for the better.. She composed herself with his help and said goodbye feeling a little better.

But when he got home from his night shift early, sneaking into the bedroom, and he found her online sucking a dildo while some other man watched and called her a whore, while she confessed to him that she was, her husband launched into an emotional storm. 

He yelled at her. Slapped her around. He had never slapped her. He told her he had received three emails at work, all of them from different men, all of them bragging they had fucked his wife, all of the videos were of Delicia performing sex acts.

Jerome had doctored the videos, making them look as if Delicia was being filmed in different motel rooms. He had dubbed over the voices so that the men supposedly in the room with her sounded like different men.

One sounded like there were two men in the room.

A fourth email came from Humberto, along with old photographs. There was a photograph of Delicia from 11 years earlier, sitting on a mattress in some strange room, in a mini skirt with no top, her legs open and leaking semen from her pussy.

Delicia tried to defend herself. But all she knew was that somehow one of her online sex partners had discovered her identity and doctored videos. 

She confessed her online sex encounters, but that just made it worse. And as far as the online sex bridging any kind of connection to what her husband had been exposed to, she had no explanation.

Every theory and excuse that came out of her mouth sounded like a lie and she knew it. She was hysterical trying to convince her husband she was telling the truth.

But it was no use. He was convinced she was prostituting herself behind his back and had been doing it for years.

He threw her out of the house with nothing but a bathrobe and her in bare feet. She didn't even have her purse or cell phone.

She begged him to let her back in. It was no use. She staggered down the street, dumbfounded, in anguish and heartbroken. How had she been found out? Who had done this to her.

Her world had spun out of control. She had lost her job and was losing her husband and home in the same day. She felt herself in some frightening vortex, being sucked down a drain.

The only piece of information she had was from her husband. Somehow, Humberto was involved. She screamed into the sky and marched toward Humberto's house. He lived four miles away and she couldn't even drive.

Her husband had kept her keys.

It took her 90 minutes, walking through the dark night, enduring a series of men slowing down and trying to pick her up, for her to get there. She arrived on Humberto's lawn, a sweating, raging bitch by the time she got to the door, pounding her fist into it.

Gladys answered, looked at Delicia and lowered her jaw in a haughty expression. Then she yelled over her shoulder, "Humberto, your whore has returned!"

Delicia's makeup had run everywhere. She looked frightful. Humberto came to the door, opened it and invited Delicia in as if assessing how to dodge a charging, rabid bitch.

Delicia did charge, running straight into him and pounding her fists toward his face, trying to scratch his face.

"What did you do to meeee! Whyyyy?! Why did you do this? Have you no decency!?"

She sobbed and convulsed on her own rasping breaths and Humberto grabbed her wrists and held onto her tight.

"Get her out of here! Get that whore out of my house!" Gladys yelled at her husband. "You and your stupid whores! Leave me in peace the both of you!"

For ten years, Gladys and Delicia had kept their distance. When the affair ended, Galdys' interest in Delicia stopped. No longer was she the doting surrogate aunt to Delicia's son. 

There had been a constant chill between them. Delicia never forgave Gladys for conspiring with Humberto to seduce her. Gladys never forgave Delicia for ending it.

In Gladys' twisted mind, Delicia should have been grateful to do whatever it took to keep her husband happy. Delicia was a classier women than the other whores her husband fucked, that made it easier for Gladys to accept. Besides, she got some personal pleasure out of watching Delicia in church and being able to look down on her, to think of the most beautiful and perhaps most respected woman in church as the little piece of trash Gladys knew she was.

All Delicia had to do was give Humberto a child. But the bitch just wanted to fuck her husband. And now here she was, reaping the wind for her own sins.

Gladys had no sympathy for her.

Humberto had to drag Delicia out of the house and into the garage. He talked her into getting into his truck and he drove her to the edge of town. They pulled into a cheap motel.

"Why here?" Delicia asked. "You think you are going to have sex with me? Fuck you!"

Humberto shrugged off the insult and said, "There is someone here who knows you, who wants to talk to you. And after he talks to you, I want to hear your answer."

Delicia got out of the truck, dreading to go in, but yearning to the bottom of her being to know who had done this. Humberto opened the door and waved his hand down, "Ladies first."

Delicia walked into the motel room and dirty, scratched, swollen feet, hugging her bathrobe. The room stank of smoke. It was a horrid, cheap room with sagging, water-stained ceiling tiles, a ratty carpet, odd-matched sheets and blankets, pillow cases with stains on them of god knows what.

She entered the room with nothing but her rope. No picture ID, no identification of any kind. She was a Jane Doe waiting to happen.

And there was Jerome. That fat, evil man! Delicia cringed and felt her knees go out from under her. She dropped to the carpet and covered her face and sobbed uncontrollably.

But she couldn't stop up her ears.

"I told you I was going to make you the whore you wanted to be! Did you think you could outsmart me forever?" Jerome said.

Humberto slammed the door shut behind him and knelt to one knee beside Delicia. He caressed her hair and whispered, "What did I tell you before, all those years ago? You are ready for this."

Delicia shoved his hand away and screamed, "Noooooo!"

Humberto snickered, stood up and walked to the dresser drawer where Jerome had a bottle of Presidente tequila waiting.

He lifted a shot glass, poured himself a drink and sat in a cushioned desk chair. He reached over, grabbed the only other chair in the room and kicked it toward Delicia. "Have a seat, puta!"

But she sobbed on and they waited her out. They chatted to each other about her, in her presence, about how Jerome's plan had come together, about how he had discovered her identity.

As the pieces of the plot were revealed to her ears, she cursed them both. She cursed them over and over. But when Jerome was done explaining, she picked her self up after Humberto's tenth request that she have a seat, and she sat in the chair as if to await her sentence.

"The way I see it, and I'm pretty good at forecasting," Jerome said, "your husband will keep his mouth shut. It's too embarrassing for him to have word get around about what his wife has been up to.

"I have 112 hours of video files of you acting like a whore, and I'm good at editing video honey. I can make you look much worse than you have been up to now, in case you haven't noticed."

What do you want from me, Delicia pleaded, her throat sore from crying most of the day.

"Uh hum!" Humberto said, not wanting to be left out. "What do WE want."

"Oh, bitch. Don't play stupid. You know what I want. And I know it's the same thing Humberto wants. We want you to sell your body for money."

No! she yelled, shaking her head.

"We want you to be a prostitute."

No! she yelled louder, shaking her head faster. No! No! Nooo!

"Do you love your family, Delicia," Humberto asked.

Yessssss, she cried.

"Think of them now, puta. Your parents, they don't have to see those tapes. Your friends, everyone you care about, they don't have to know any of this. All you have to do is go away with this man," Humberto said.

Sobb! How can you do this to me, Humberto, she wailed. You wanted a child with me. I can still give you that!

"It is too late for that," Humberto said, dismissing her casually.

No it's not! I can still give you a child. I will. I promise!

Humberto sighed and Jerome interrupted.

"Delicia, you are 38 years old. Be honest with yourself. You are a sexual animal. You have, MAYBE five, seven good years left before men are going to lose interest in you," Jerome said.

"I'm making you a generous offer," Jerome said.

Oh, you are, are you, she yelled. You're so fucking generous now?

"Watch you mouth, whore!" Jerome growled. He took a breath and calmly continued, "I'll make you a deal. You come with me, live with me. I'll arrange for all the sex you always wanted. You've already lost your job and husband, your children."

No thanks to you, she retorted.

"As I was saying, trying to say, you come with me for three years. Just three years. And if you don't like it after that, you're free to go wherever you want to go."

So that was her sentence. Be his whore for three years. Delicia gave it thought. She sat quietly. And they sat quietly. A minute turned into five minutes. Delicia already knew Jerome was from Little Rock.

Little Rock? She asked.

"Yes," Jerome said. "Give me three years in Little Rock."

And what do you get out of this, Delicia asked Humberto.

"I get you out of town, out of my life, out of my church so I don't have to look at you anymore," he said, the resentment of her rejection still fresh in his voice.

She shut her eyes tight and whimpered into another cry as Humberto added, "Oh, and I get a goodbye fuck with my favorite puta!"

Delicia nodded her head yes and wiped tears from her face. She stood up, walked to Humberto and reached her hand out. He lifted his hand and they clasped fingers. He stood up and stroked her face.

I'm sorry, she told him. They kissed. She hugged him. He told her, "Get on the bed, puta."

She stripped first, and the men followed suit. Humberto lay on his back next to her. She rolled over onto him and stroked and sucked his cock as Jerome fondled her breasts and showered her with lewd compliments, ecstatic to finally be touching her in the flesh.

With Humberto's cock hard in her mouth, she moved herself over him and squatted and sank, impaling her vagina on his thick staff.

Humberto seemed gentler. She wondered if it would last the night or if the old predator would suddenly appear under her. But that persona was behind her now.

It was Jerome that climbed on her back and fucked her ass and clawed her tits and bit her neck and yanked her hair and made her ears hot as he spewed a constant chant of whore, slut, fuck pig, cum bucket.

Humberto lay calmly under her, enjoying her pussy, enjoying her torment, occasionally reaching up to pinch her nipples.

Delicia took her punishment. She had cried herself out. This was a kind of pain she was used to. She got past the clawing, the pinching and spanking, the filthy words and all of their intents, and focused on what she had wanted to be, if she had no family to love.

And here she was. Stripped of family and stripped of love and free to walk down the road she had avoided for so long.

*  *  *  *  *  *

Two days later, Delicia sat in Jerome's living room, waiting for him to get home from his shift. She had no clothes. Not even the bathrobe that her husband had the decency to make her wear before he threw her into the street.

Jerome burned the bathrobe and made her watch it go up in smoke along with the rest of her life.

The only comfort Delicia could get from all of this was through masturbation. She sat on the sofa, legs open, rubbing her clit and whimpering. She was wired tight with anxiety, anxious about what was about to happen.

She had not eaten in two days. She couldn't think of food. She channeled her hunger pains, if the came, into her vagina and rubbed herself into one tortured orgasm after another. She knew she was on the verge of psychosis, she was transforming into what Jerome wanted all on her own.

When she heard his car drive up, Delicia closed her thighs and bent over and hugged her knees. He walked up, opened the door, and found her in the position.

"Ready to get to work, whore?" he asked in tone that sounded happily macabre. 

Delicia's lips shuddered as she sucked in a breath. She stood as if at attention but with her head bowed, and Jerome, after appreciating the stunning sight of her beauty in submissive pose, noticed the stain on his sofa cushion.

He walked up to her, caressed her breasts, looked over her should at the cushion, inspected her wet pussy with his hands and said, "Oh baby, you made the right decision."

He took her into his basement, sat her on a cot, put a collar on her neck and chained her to the wall.

He set up web cams at four angles and then set up a laptop on the large stool in front of her. He took a chair next to her and demanded all her passwords.

Jerome got into her contact list. There were over 200 men in her list, men from all over the world, but as best as they could figure, about 120 of them were on the North American continent.

Jerome had her send out emails, text messages, messenger chat messages. All of them said the same thing:

SlutWife has a new profile. Please read my profile before you contact me.

And her profile said:




Delicia Ch. 03



"SlutWife has moved. SlutWife has left her husband and children. SlutWife is now available for full-contact encounters. SlutWife is booking gang bang sessions. Gang bang sessions only!"

Jerome then told her to get online and "Make yourself 'Available' under the customized greeting, 'SlutWife is looking for Real Life sex.'

Delicia entered the information and went online. Within a minute, she had six windows pop open.

Jerome examined the profiles of the six and gave instructions. Admit to each that you are chatting with more the one man, so they need to be patient.

She followed his instruction.

"Now schedule 20 minute online sessions with each."

As each session began, Delicia gave her real name. She requested photo-share and passed each man a photocopy of her Texas drivers license. She then passed the screen to Jerome who introduced himself as her owner.

"She's in Little Rock now, in my basement, and I'm booking gang bangs. Are you interested in participating in one? It will cost you $1,000, and we'll send you home with a DVD of the session you participate in."

Once the order was placed, the men were entertained by watching Jerome perform a sex act on Delicia. One watched her suck his cock, another watched her lick his ass, another instructed her to slobber on his balls, and yet another jerked off while Jerome bent her over and fucked her asshole.

Every one of them had been dreaming of this opportunity for months, some for years.

All of the nasty men that she had teased for so long were finally going to get her. The thought of it both excited Delicia and filled her with dread. To what depths of depravity would she be drawn into?

It took less than two weeks to schedule the first gangbang. The men started arriving just before noon and by 2 p.m. on a Saturday, Jerome had nine men assembled in the basement. They got there first sight of Delicia on her hands and knees inside a small rectangular metal cage. It was so small her butt was pressed against the steel rods on one end and her face was just inside the bars on the other end.

"Oh shit! Fuck, Damn, Sweeet!, dirty pig," they men greeted her with a chorus of demeaning, excited exclamations, and two of them quickly took positions at her mouth and ass and proceeded to invade the submissive woman.

She fucked and sucked, burning with lust, having so anxiously awaited what she had known for long, lonely days now was her purpose. They all knew her. The real her.

They knew exactly who she was and she had nowhere else to go. She had lusted for every one of them, but had always kept them at a distance to hang onto her family, her life.

But this was her life now. Her family had no idea where she was or what she did, and she didn't want to think about what she had lost, she pushed it out of her mind and the only way to do that was to dive in.

To DIVE into this! And give it her all.

She sucked and slurped and rocked her hips and rolled her belly into it, she shook her hanging melons and growled like a cat and begged for more.

"More! More! Give me more cock!"

Jerome unlocked her cage and the men helped her onto her feet. They lifted her into a leather harness that hung from the ceiling so they wouldn't have to deal with her delicious plus size weight, and have access to her pussy and asshole at the same time.

The second pair of customers took their positions and Delicia said, "Yeah, yea, let's do this! Fuck me! Double fuck me. Oh God, I've been waiting for this for too long!"



Delicia Ch. 04



"Uh! uh! uh! uh! uhhhhuhuhhhhAHH!!!"

Delicia Sanchez moaned and grimaced on every strok of the thick 11-inch cock mercilessly probing her much-abused anal cavity.

"Oh god!" she wailed on the next mean-spirited thrust as she clenched her eyelids shut.

Her abuser was yet another of the many men she had once teased during Internet cam-to-cam sessions in the privacy of her bedroom, back when she had a bedroom that she shared with a husband in a home where she had a family.

But through a complex confluence of blackmail, shame, and her own demented sexual appetite, she made the mistake of letting one of her cam cyber sex partners get too close, learn too much. She went off with him to spare her family the scandal.

Delicia came from such a conservative, sheltered family and community that she truly believed they were better off not knowing her fate than knowing what she had been up to.

In the beginning, her ordeal was almost bearable. The deal with Jerome was that she be his sex slave/prostitute for three years, and then she was free to go. She spent countless hours dreaming up stories, trying to meticulously invent a lie to explain to her family why she had disappeared.

At times it occurred to her that Jerome would not keep his bargain. That he would somehow reveal to her family what she had been up to all along, or that he would simply keep her captive by force.

"Ohhhhhh! OhhohohhhhuhhhhAHH!" she moaned as this beast of a man held grip on her naked hips and thrust his piston-like erection up her outstretched colon. The shock of monster cock stabs up her anus brought her still to tears after all these months.

His name was Barry and he was a former semi-pro football player who now worked for a courier service in a town 400 miles away. He had a fat wife that had him pussy-whipped, but there were times when he was able to sneak away from that bitch, get online and like many other men get a little time with a Latina slutty housewife from Texas who just loved to show men her tits while they jerked off to her as she pulled on her nipples and sucked on life-like rubber dildos.

He could not believe his luck when one day he found she had moved and become available for real life hookups. He managed to make the trip down to see her about once every eight weeks. His only annoyance was that he could not afford private sessions.

Jerome insisted on gang bangs, so Barry had to deal with the awkwardness of being in Jerome's padlocked basement in the dim light with three other men. Fortunately, unlike some sessions, they were going at her one at a time, each having a turn while the others watched and stroked themselves.

Barry was in a particularly foul mood today. His wife had been more of a nagging bitch than usual in the week leading up to his trip and he took out his pent-up hostility and humiliation on Delicia's ass, ramming his hefty weight into her.

"Whap!" sounded the flesh of his groin and thighs against her. "AHH!" cried Delicia.

His ham-handed mitts squeezed at her ass, slid up her ribcage, cupped her sagging, bouncing tan tits and he pinched as he cock-stabbed and she howled, "Eeeeeahhhhh nnnn!!!"

All the sex slave fuckers present could hear her howls and sobs but it just made them delirious with lust. Delicia looked up, an expression of woe, looked pleadingly into the eyes of each man, hoping someone would speak up on her behalf. But all she saw were the dim glinting eyes of wolves patiently waiting for their pound of slut flesh.

It had been a full year now since Jerome had kept her in his basement. There were times when her regret would be so intense that she would spend every second with Jerome begging that he let her go, that he let her out of their bargain. He wouldn't consider it, of course.

Jerome could not believe his stupid luck. That he actually found her, and through trickery and the mixing of real evidence with fabricated evidence he had ruined her. He was power mad.

Jerome had done very well marketing her for sex on the Internet, thanks in part to how well Delicia had managed on her own to built a cyber buddy list.

She was now 39 years old and had been his property for a year. And he was using her hard, booking group sessions every week. There were some weeks where he had her taking 20 or more group sessions in a week.

But Jerome quickly became concerned with the vehicle traffic up to his house in Arkansas. It was obvious to his neighbors, so he sold his house in town, quit his job to better manage his new business and bought a secluded place in the country. 

Suddenly, Barry felt himself losing control. He was going to cum, and sooner than he had wanted to. He reached up, gripped Delicia's thick long black hair and yanked, "You fuckinnnnnn WhORRR oh uhhhhhhhhhh eRRRR!"

He shot his cum into her colon in rapid, angry thrusts and Delicia was suddenly in so much pain she lost her breath. The veins in her reddening face bulged and she could only sputter and "Ack!"

Jerome found the more he exploited Delicia, the less he was concerned about her welfare. In the beginning, he was meticulous about getting her three meals a day. He would ask her what she wanted to eat. But her diet was different from what he was used to that he couldn't bring her the things she craved.

Delicia missed her homemade Mexican dishes. And Jerome always ended up bringing hamburgers or fried foods. Delicia lost appetite and over the months lost weight. She came to Jerome a curvy, pleasingly plump Latina mom. But between the constant and strenuous hard sex and her lost interest in food, she had lost more than 30 pounds and while not anorexic, was remarkably thinner.

Jerome liked it, this new, leaner look. But Delicia was not as aware of her self image. There were no mirrors in the basement and didn't ever get to wear normal clothes.

Barry pulled out of Delicia's gaped ass, a colon on the verge of prolapsing. She panted and the men around her watched her ribcage heave, rising and collapsing as her body tried valiantly to regulate her ragged breathing.

Cum drizzled out of her anus onto the cement floor, and Delicia on all fours slumped. "Uhhh," she grunted.

Barry leaned over, slapped her ass hard, "WHAP!!" and Delicia whinced, "nnnnn!!"

"Who's next?," Barry said, looking around as he magnanimously spread his arms out as if to offer what wasn't his to anyone present.

While Barry had been fucking her, the other men had been surveying the room. Jerome had generously stocked it with toys and contraptions. There was plenty of rope, collars, leashes, dildos, vibrators, a harness swing, a cage, a sawhorse, whips, clamps, paddles, chains, buttplugs, beads, a wardrobe closet full of skimpy theme costumes, bodysuits, teddys, and masks.

Two of the men in waiting had been discussing pairing up on her and how to go about it. They stepped forward now. One was an attorney from Chicago and the other owned a bowling alley in St. Louis. The bowling alley owner new Delicia from her cyber days but this was his first face-to-face session.

The bowling alley owner, a large, fat man, 5 feet 11 inches and 264 pounds of white man with a buzz cut, an ex-military man who would vacation in the Philippines because he had connections there that let him abuse their young whores, gripped Delicia by the hair and patiently tugged, "Up, up, up, let's go, Delicious, mmmm remember me, fuck face?"

Delicia looked up and grimaced, pushed herself up to avoid being too harshly lifted. She looked but only vaguely recognized his face. She nodded a yes, pretending to recollect him better than she actually did. They expected recognition, her old cyber buddies. She had learned the hard way never to say she didn't remember one.

Satisfied with her response, the fat man named Burr jerked her head in a sideways shake, reached over with his other hand and slapped at her breasts. Delicia winced but tried not to make too much noise. She watched as the lawyer, whom she was forced to look toward, gathered rope from off a large hook on the wall.

Her lips trembled. She was terrified of the rope games. Most men didn't bother with the rope but the ones that used it were among the most sadistic.

Delicia, moving only her eyes, looked for the fourth man in the room. He sat on a wooden stool, wearing only a t-shirt, stroking his cock, patiently waiting his turn.

The lawyer came up to her, wearing red sling swimwear and a gold chain Delicia imagined was worth a couple thousand dollars. The two men led her to a large hook on chain that hung from a beam in the basement ceiling and made her kneel. Pulling her hands behind her back, they formed an elaborate knot that wrapped around her tits individually, around her torso, keeping her arms pulled back, her wrists wrapped in rope, then back around her waist, down once into the slit of her pussy, the crack of her ass, back up to her shoulders and then she was lifted.

And left to hang.

The weight was distributed somewhat at the shoulders, but the pressure against her pussy was immediately noticeable and Delicia gulped and moaned, "uuuHHHHHhhhh!!!"

"I am gonna fuck up this TEEZinnn bitch," Burr said, and with those words Delicia became alarmed. Now she remembered Burr!

Of all the men she had cyber with, he was one of the sick fuckers she was most nervous about, and most grateful that she would never meet. Or so she thought. All of his jerk off sessions with her went into dark territory. He would tell her how he wanted to torture her. He complained about what a "TEEZinnn bitch" she was and how if he ever got his hands on her she would pay. 

Delicia tried to take comfort in knowing there were witnesses, and that Jerome was monitoring this on closed circuit television. He may not have much regard for her, but he didn't want anyone maiming his moneymaker.

"NNnnnn!!" Delicia groaned from the pressure and friction of the rope and the fear Burr instilled in her.

Burr took a ping-pong paddle and lightly slapped at her inner thighs. "nNnnn uhhh!" Delicia cried, trying not to exaggerate her own sense of the pain she was in.

She hung in the air, but the lawyer brought a chair and positioned Delicia to where she could balance her toes on it and take the weight off her throbbing pussy. She caught her breath and just as she was getting a little comfortable, Burr stepped behind her and swatted her buttocks, "crack!"

"ayyyyyyyyyyyyy!" she cried and the violent heat of the impact jolted throughout her body, her spine arched and stiffened. "Crack!" he hit her buttocks again. "Crack!" and again.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!! ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh ohhhhhhhhhhhhh ayyyyyyyyyyy!" Delicia howled, now unable to control her yells.

The lawyer and Burr looked at each other as if reading each other's minds, and the lawyer pulled away the chair and in that instant Burr swung again and in the moment the paddle went "crack!" on her ass, the rope dug viciously into her pussy and Delicia had a moment of pain that knocked her air out. She froze in pain, then sobbed, breaking down into a full cry, "wahhhh! nnnnn ohhh gawwwwww nnnn! ahhh!"

The chair for balance, pulling the chair away just as she was swatted was a game. Burr and the lawyer did it to her over and over and over and over. 

Delicia wanted to beg for it to stop, but she had learned that just excited such men more. She dared not beg. She would endure. 

Burr and the lawyer stroked their cocks as they tortured her. The chair would come back in range and Delicia would be given a few moments to balance herself and catch her breath. She couldn't know when it would be pulled away again and each balanced effort was filled the stress of its loss and her total helplessness. Her sobs were constant, but she tried to keep her full-lung wails limited to the moment of impact. And there it came, that "crack!" the burn, the biting of rope into tender flesh!

"NNNnAHHHH!! oh oh ahhhhhhhhhhh!! nnnnnnnnnn! oh god oh god nnnn!!!"

Burr laughed, then gave her his rationale, "That's what you git fer BEE IN a TEEZinnnn bitch! Fuck you up I said and here it is, cunt!"

To Delicia, the torture seemed to go on forever, but the lawyer was getting anxious to shove his cock into her red, scraped, tender pussy and after 25 minutes of hell in the air, he lowered her.

Burr complained, "What err ya doinnn?"

"She needs some cock in that ripped up cunt, don't you think? Anyhow, I wanna feel my prick inside of her."

Burr grumbled but let the lawyer proceed. He unwound just enough rope to free her pussy from obstruction, keeping her arms uncomfortable twisted behind her and her wrists tied together, her breasts bulging red still with rope wound around the base circumference of her now grotesque looking mammaries.

The lawyer shoved her at the shoulder and made Delicia topple onto one side of her body. He knelt and scooted and lined up his cock, a dark pink 8-inch stiff bat. He slapped it against her red, swollen, scraped and painfully tender clitoris and the swollen area around her clit.

She winced and sobbed and furrowed her brow and panted as he incited his lust. She looked into his eyes to see the hungry glare of bloodlust.

Then he shoved his organ into her.

"NNnn! ooooooo!" she moaned.

"Yeaahhhh little fucktoy mama, take it, take it!" he commanded.

There was in all of this only the barest hint of sensual pleasure for Delicia's mind to latch onto. But she did, she focused on that place in her inner core, a place untouched by their sadism. It was all she had to bear this.

"Ahhhh!" she groaned, grimacing and sweating, the burn of rope around her tits and wrists, the stabbing burning tortuous strokes of his cock radiating pain!

"ahhhh! nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn! ahh AHH ow OWWWW oh god ahhh!"

Burr was beside himself with impatience, wishing like Barry he had her to himself, wishing her owner wasn't monitoring their every move. None of this was enough for him, something evil inside Burr wanted to do horrific things to her, but this would have to do.

Burr's eyes wandered away from the thrashing fuck the lawyer was giving her, and with her moans in his ears, Burr focused on a thick, black, foot-long dildo and went over to retrieve it. He came back to Declicia, squatted and struck her on the neck with it as if punishing her with a rubber hose.

She screamed, "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!"

Then Burr stabbed the dildo into her mouth, yelling, "suck it, fuckmeat!" and soon had Delicia choking and puking out of her nose.

The world became a blur, out of focus and under water, Delicious had a moment of feeling she was about to pass out. Her face had turned purple and Barry, holding back all this time, stepped forward and taking his leather belt from his pants, slapped her on the bottom of her left foot.

"GuhmmmnnnFF!" Delicia said, choking and shrieking with her mouth stuffed.

The lawyer reached across her body and pinched at her bulging dark nipples as he reveled in the sweet feel of his cock torturing her damaged pussy. "oh bitch oh yes oh you fucked up whore!" he exclaimed. And he picked up his pace, now wanting to cum deep inside her.

His hips gave rotated in a rapid jerky fucking motion, overheating his rod, drawing up his semen. "Fuckinnn whore fuckin whore oh yea you fuckinnnnn nNNNN! oooo bitch, mmm, yea, I'm gonna give you my cum, you hot piece of fuck meat! oH, Ohhhh, fuck this bitch!"

He stroked non-stop as he spurted into her, his jizz jetting through her canal, swimmers making their way in a race to her cervix. "OH! AHHH yeaa take my jizz, fuck meat!"

He came so hard, he got light-headed and rolled his eyes back. But all Delicia noticed was his body freezing up and stopping, and with it giving her a moment of relief from the horrible radiating pain of his thrusting cock rubbing against the burning wound of her swollen pussy.

The lawyer rested between Delicia's thighs too long for Burr's liking and he slapped the lawyer on the back of the head. "My turn!" Burr said in an impatient bark.

Burr had been studying the camera angle and figured out the only way to get out of Jerome's view was to haul Delicia up the stairs to the door that led out of the basement. He lifted her up on her wobbling legs and began to march her in that direction, but Jerome immediately saw Burr's intention and blared over the speaker, "Keep her on the floor, sir. You may NOT take her to the stairs!"

Burr stopped in his tracks, grimaced and threw up a middle finger at the camera, "Fucking tard!"

But that was the limit of his protest. Burr let go of his grip on Delicia, then in a fit of frustration, he pulled his leg back and kicked her in the pussy with his bare foot. She crumpled to the floor and went into a seizure of pain that would not let her catch one breath.

Finally, the fourth man spoke up. He was done sitting through this crap, "Heyyy, asshole! Leave something for me! I don't want to fuck a goddamn corpse, and I don't want to make dirty love to a lump of hamburger meat, either!"

Burr answered with a "Fuck you!" and retrieved the dildo, which he proceeded to slap on Delicia's ass and direct her, "Shove this up yer ass, slut!"

Delicia gripped the dildo, thankful she would have control of what it did to her anal cavity, at least for awhile.

Burr came at Delicia in a scissor position, pressing his uncut white cock against her mauled pussy slit while he watched her fuck her own anus with a huge rubber dick.

He shoved his own organ, a modest 6-inch penis into her, making her grunt and frown.

Delicia knew for her own sake she had better act like this was painful even if Burr's cock wasn't that impressive. And she did. Fucking herself and timing her groans with every inward thrust of Burr's cock. Still, as abused as she was, the fucking was substantially uncomfortable.

And many of her, "ohh, uhhh, ahh!" cries were totally sincere.

What Burr could not do with length, he did to her with stamina. Delicia clenched and humped at his cock as best she could, and cried throughout the ordeal, but she just could not seem to get this pig bastard to cum. That more than anything drove her to despair and a steady, miserable sobbing as her swollen, abused pussy had to endure this creep.

To make matters worse, as Delicia suspected would eventually happen, Burr slapped her hand away from the dildo and began to fuck her from both ends.

Whereas, Delicia had been alternating the strokes to minimize the pressure, Burr was jamming the dildo up her ass with his own in strokes. Delicia was oftentimes left with eyes bulging and spine writhing in near-epileptic seizures. She shuddered, squealed and, miraculously, even came once, squirting violently onto Burr's groin and lower abdomen while he laughed and howled, triumphant and with ego swelling, "Look at this whore squirt!"

But Burr soon after became frustrated. He was too sadistic to cum like this. Tiring, and panting, and needing to cum, he pulled out and climbed over her and sat on roped off, swollen tits, restricting her breathing, he used one hand to jack off and the other to choke her. Pulling on his cock as fast as he could stroke, he grunted, "nnnn waited so long to give you this, cunt!"

"Open up, cum bucket!" he barked, and Delicia opened her mouth in a stretched out, freaked out expression, near to gagging from his grip, watching his hand jack that evil prick's throbbing pole.

The spray of sperm was anti-climactic. It dribbled and if Delicia wasn't so afraid of this bastard, she would have been tempted to giggle. But she took it seriously and lapped at his sperm without prompting.

Burr, satisfied, rolled to one side and trapped her calf. The weight of him pressing her calf into the cement was painful and she groaned, but for once this was not pain Burr intended to give. He was just off balance, and he continued rolling away from her until he could push himself up.




Delicia Ch. 04



There remained one man. Delicia had not forgotten him, but she couldn't take anymore. She felt like she just couldn't go on. She lay there sobbing and shaking her head no, no, no, and mumbled, "No more, nnnnnn! Please, Jerome, I've had enough!"

The fourth man had no interest in ropes and began by untangling her from them.

He stood, stooped over her, freeing her, then he stood upright and watched her free of her bondage, curl into a fetal position and cover her face with her hands and sob. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity, did she think he was going to just leave, he wondered.

"Get up, slut," he said in a very calm and monotone voice.

Delicia felt utter exhaustion and wasn't sure she actually had the strength to get to a standing position. She brought her hands away from her face and gently hugged her aching tits.

"Uhh! please, mister, just give me a minute."

He nodded down at her, not that she could see, but he answered, "Okay, one minute. That's it."

Barry had been stroking his way back to an erection all this time, and now he was in shape to have another go at her. He asked the last man, "You sure you don't want to go double on her? Man, I got a fucking wicked hard-on here, I need to do her some more damage."

But the last man was firm. He just shook his head no as he faced down Barry.

Then came the voice of Jerome over the speaker, "Get up, Delicia. Your minute is up!"

Delicia nodded, and shifted her weight and got to all fours, hands and knees on the ground and ass up like the bitch she was now. The last man could see her arms shaking, she was struggling just to maintain a little bitch doggy stance and he complained, "Goddammit, she's spent! She's just a used up piece of whore meat!"

Jerome came over the speaker again, "Delicia, bitch! Stand up!"

Delicia tucked her legs in and got her footing and stood, but her legs wobbled and she reeled to her right before she managed to steady herself. The fourth man came around and stood in front of her. For the first time, she looked into his face at close range.

Delicia didn't have good eyesight. She needed contacts, and she had not been using them for months. She had gotten by with poor vision, but it had so many disadvantages. 

She looked at him and realized she knew him from somewhere.

"Do you know who I am, Delicia," he asked, again in a cold, soft monotone.

She nodded, and said, "Alberto."

He was yet another of Delicia's old cyber buddies. In the early days of her cyber sex habit, he had been a regular. But he stopped logging on to cyber with her long before Delicia got caught up on Jerome's trap, and Delicia had forgotten about him. She wanted to remember something else about him, but there had been so many and her memory was never very good.

With all the abuse and isolation Delicia had endured in the last year, her memory was much worse now. She often went into depressions because she couldn't even remember the faces of her children.

"You remember what I like, puta?" Alberto asked.

Delicia was apprehensive. She was afraid to say she didn't remember, but it would be worse to guess wrong, so she apologized and said, "I'm sorry, I have a bad memory."

Alberto reached up and pulled on her bottom lip, "Oh? That's okay. I am impressed you remember my name, you who fuck so many men."

He let go of her lip and stepped away from her. He walked around her, and Delicia's back stiffened when he walked behind her, as she expected to be slapped. She had learned that bad men liked to surprise her that way, hit her when she could not see it coming.

But he did not hit her. He just walked around, then faced her once more. And said, "Go to the toilet."

Delicia obeyed, thought of the toilet. She had gone through a lot of toilet sex lately. She didn't like it, but she found it much more tolerable than the rope games. She would rather eat shit.

Alberto followed behind her, but Delicia dared not look back. When she faced the toilet, she stood there waiting.

"Kneel in front of the toilet, puta," he said.

She knelt and tried to remember where Alberto had said he was from, or if he had ever mentioned it. She rarely encountered another latino here.

He gripped her head with both hands and used her body to balance himself as he also came to a kneeling position. He knelt behind her and embraced her, gently caressing her face and tits and stomach, then her pussy.

His touch was so gentle that Delicia found it comforting. She wanted to tear up for a totally different reason. Men never touched her like this anymore.

He the played with her hair, tossing it forward over her face, combing it forward with his fingers, then she felt his lips, he was kissing the nape of her neck while his palms pressed into her hair covered face.

"Eres un angel," he whispered, (you're an angel), "encarcelada en el infierno." (imprisoned in hell)

Delicia's lips quivered and she thought, Spanish! A code, and he's whispering. She reached for hope, "Bienes a liberarme?" (you come to free me?)

But he chuckled, and said, "No."

Delicia felt that fleeting moment of hope crash, but she was so desperate to hang onto it, she persisted, "Hara lo que quieras, para siempre, si me sacas de aqui." (I would do whatever you want, forever, I you get me out of here.)

Alberto whispered back, "Tu escojisteis esta, puta!" (you chose this, whore.)

He released her and stood again and shuffled to the side of the toilet. "put your head in the toilet and lap at the water like a little pussy, PUTA!"

Delicia felt hope burn off like so much gasoline. She leaned forward, robotic, stuck out her tongue and lapped, drinking like a kitten from the toilet water.

And as she did so, Alberto began to relieve himself. He pissed on her head and the pissed flowed down her hair, combed forward, into the water. She realized he combed her head forward to make it easier for him to direct the path of his urine. And he gently spoke, "Keep drinking, puta."

She kept drinking.

With his bladder relieved, Alberto put down the seat, sat on the toilet and snapped his fingers, and pointed at his cock. Understood, Delicia took his cock into her mouth. And for the next half hour, sucked him until he reached the point of boiling climax.

He pulled out, and as he spurted cum on her face and hair, he used his cock like a spatula to smear it around, and he asked her, "Que eres, mami?" (What are you, mama?)

And Delicia answered what she knew he wanted to hear and what in fact she was, "Soy puta, soy puta." (I'm a whore. I'm a whore.)

The others watched Alberto finish, he looked up at them and pushed her back so that he could stand. He again ordered her to bow her head into the toilet, and invited them to piss on her.

They gathered around, not aiming for the toilet. They directed streams of urine at her head and back and Delicia licked, lapping up contaminated water out of the toilet bowl.

After the last of the urine streams stopped. She stopped. But Alberto told her to keep drinking, and so she did.