Consuelo and all the other women are forced to bathe in front of the soldiers. The General then decides to have another orgy and lets the slaves in!
General Santa Anna had garnered a considerable booty by taking Fort Alamo, such as a good amount of supplies and three dozens of black slaves of both genders, mostly female cooks and male hands.
During the Mexican brigade’s initial celebrations, the male slaves were kept in chains in the inner fort, not all that far from the church.
Uncle Sam was outraged as he witnessed the way his new owners treated the wives and daughters of his now-dead masters, although he knew from experience that such were the unwritten laws of war—when a town or fort was taken, the losing side’s womenfolk were usually part of the booty.
Mankind was that despicable.
Yet, Uncle Sam kept looking at the great press of men where he heard Miss Ann Blyth wailing and whimpering and shrieking. He sometimes caught a speck of her bright-pale skin and experienced a mammoth erection from thinking about what her skin would feel like if he touched and kissed her everywhere.
Uncle Sam was so deeply conditioned as a slave that he felt very guilty and bad whenever he experienced the fugitive thought of sex with a white woman. He was scared to get flogged just from thinking of it and he wouldn’t dare look at a white woman in the eyes, nor look at her altogether more than the necessary split-second needed to acknowledge a command.
During the direct aftermath of the hard-fought battle of Alamo, Uncle Sam knew that the rules were changed. The rules would no doubt go back to normal once he’d be where the Mexicans have their wives and families with them, but right now, there were only Mexican soldiers and female prisoners who were giving him orders the day before. Now all these white women were slaves and used as such.
After a whole lifetime of being a slave, Uncle Sam didn’t know what to make of what he saw—white women being gang-raped while he was in chains, while no harm was done to him by his new Mexican masters.
Aaron, Sam’s son, didn’t have such high moral considerations other than he was very religious and absolutely against sodomy.
Aaron saw such a small group of Mexican sodomites who grabbed Jeremy, a slave boy of about eleven years old and took him behind the church, which was presently resonating with the women being gang-raped inside; such female screams as Aaron would never forget. Those high-pitched screams made him horny.
Soon enough, little Jeremy was squealing behind the church. Aaron had taken careful notes of each of those five sodomites. Aaron had a gorilla-like strength and hated sodomites. He was going to kill anyone of them—ideally each and every one of them—if he had the chance.
Aaron was intelligent enough to take advantage of the situation and escape the following night if he wanted to, but he didn’t want to leave Fort Alamo, at least not right away. He couldn’t get his eyes off Consuelo as she was gang-raped for hours on end by the celebrating soldiers.
He stood there in chains and watched Consuello from a distance, as she was in the nude and being gang-raped with her back on that cannon near where her father lay bleeding and dying.
He would never forget how the sun played with the tips of Consuelo’s bare tits as they jiggled along with her unabated rapes. Her whimpers, very distant notes from where he stood, were enough to feed Aaron’s monster erection. He hoped his new masters would decide to watch slaves gang-rape some of the white females; soldiers doing this to increase humiliation wasn’t unheard of.
Aaron had seen it all in front of his unbelieving eyes… Consuelo, captured. First raped by that fat officer, then by Sergeants, then ripping sounds met Aaron’s unbelieving ears as she was stripped out of her brown dress. Consuelo, naked, her mysteries revealed, to be enjoyed nude and bright by the rank-and-file.
Aaron had watched it all, focussing his gaze on the tips of Consuelo’s free-moving tits. Her breasts were shimmering under the bright morning sun, wet with aguardiente and Mexican slobber, as each soldier in a long line-up took an unfathomable relief. He knew something like this would happen if the Mexicans won, yet he didn’t want to believe what met his African eyes. That scene would always stay with Aaron.
He would love so much to break the colour line and feel what it’s like to be inside a noble señorita like Consuelo! Just to touch her! Seeing her in the nude while being chained and kept at a distance was perhaps even more tantalizing than seeing her fully clothed and giving him commands.
She was naked, yet still out of his reach!
He liked the way she looked, although he personally preferred his own coloured women with their warm brown skin and the often-peculiar shapes of their curves, but white ladies of the elite fascinated him.
Once, shortly before the siege began, he had stumbled into Consuelo in the stables, just after Colonel Bowie had left her. She was almost finished in re-buttoning the top of her dress. As he walked in the horse-smelling place, his heavy steps threading hay, he had seen the last of her cleavage, just enough to notice that the front of her corset was left unlaced.
Aaron had found himself alone with her. If he had so desired, he could have overpowered her just as easily as a kitten and kept his hand pressed on her silenced mouth for as long as it would have taken him to give her his seed.
Instead, he took off his hat and meekly said, “Good day, Milady!” As usual.
“Greetings, Mister Aaron” Consuelo had replied, calling him Mister instead of just using his first name as was the custom when a white citizen addressed a slave.
Aaron remembered how she was quietly smiling at him. She was gazing at him. Her gaze went lower. He felt it on his massive shoulders, his gigantic torso and then down at the rope he had for a belt and below on his colonial-white trousers, where he knew he had an unimpeachable bulge.
Consuelo had blushed upon seeing he had a huge erection under his trousers, where it formed something like a circus tent.
Aaron was holding his hat in his hands and smiling at her without showing his teeth. He could have put his hat on his lap and hidden that immoral tent, but since they were alone together, he was curious to see what she would do, so he let his tell-tale symptom plainly visible to Consuelo.
Consuelo had looked back up at him and smiled, then she had run past him and out of the stable. Aaron would never forget her troubled expression. Something had been said without words between them. If he wasn’t mistaken, Consuelo had perhaps thought of sex with him!
The entire time he had watched Consuelo being forced to entertain the General and his troops, Aaron’s thoughts kept coming back to that awkward moment in the stables on that day.
Aaron had seen and guessed her breast shapes through that lovely plaid dress of pale rose fabric. He was happy to see they were even more beautiful than he had imagined. There was warmth in that rosy brownish of her nipples and areolas. Aaron had no doubt they would taste even better than they looked. At that precise moment, he was ready to risk his life to get a taste!
Uncle Sam kept watching and trying to get glimpses of Ann, oblivious of anything else other than Ann, her pale skin and her feet that he had always dreamed of covering with African kisses. In the maze of his old slave’s guilt, Old Sam was sharing his son’s hope, that the Mexicans would give the slaves some scraps of the fallen women.
*** *** ***
Consuelo thought her rape would only end with her death. It did end, eventually. It ended long after she had lost hope, after she realized how unbelievably tough her body really was. It did end. When it did, she was more dead than alive and not really sure it was over.
That rat-faced capitán who had raped her first, seemingly a long time ago, was there with his fat smile and his joyfully overweight figure, all of him comically officialised by his golden epaulettes. He offered her a tequila bottle and she drank, trying to fight the fire of her dry mouth with fire-inducing liquor. Yet it did feel comforting.
The capitán was smiling at her and helped her walking. He was stronger than she thought. Or maybe she was so weak that anybody felt strong to her… the only thing she was sure of was her bare feet in the dirt as she walked with his help and the help of a stout moustached Sergeant who kept saying “¡Gracias! ¡Muchas gracias señorita!”
Judging by where the sun was, it was well past noon and the shadows were still on the shorter hours. Early afternoon. She had been raped… She’d rather not know for how long.
Her thoughts were a maelstrom of confusion where a mob of chaotic recollections jockeyed for position in an aftermath so horrific that being first or last no longer mattered.
Consuelo was being helped up on her feet. Her feet in the dirt. Falling? No, that fat Captain was there to help. He smiled at her from his rat face. She hated him more than any other living man! Yet she drank tequila when he offered it.
She tried to push him away. She had no strength left. She tried to spit on his face. Her mouth was dry and filled with the rancid remnants of the taste left behind by the semen some of the soldiers had shot inside her forced-open mouth; that and the aguardiente they had forced her to drink. No amount of tequila seemed enough to erase that sickening taste. She knew it would stay with her forever and always.
More men were there around her to help, touching her everywhere as they went.
Consuelo winced, especially whenever they touched some spots on her chest, her belly and her thighs, where the strong daylight had left her pale skin sunburnt. That pain reminded her of her humiliation from being naked amid the enemy soldiers.
They had kept her on that cannon too long.
At one point, they had taken her flat on the ground, eventually turning her around and nearly deafening her with their catcalls when they saw her booty! She felt crushed under their collective lust! The breeze was hitting her bum, as if the wayward wind also wanted his piece of booty. War booty. Sensual skin to be enjoyed!
They had no trouble in positioning her on her knees and elbows to enjoy a full protruding view of her intimate curves. A Private rushed down on his knees and was already pushing himself inside her. He ejaculated strongly within a minute.
It was still long enough for Consuelo’s memories to get imprinted with his hands on her bum and the growling sound he uttered as she was forced once again to experience pleasure upon feeling a soldier twitch inside her and give her another load of Mexican heat.
Each and every one of those soldiers who raped her left his own personal imprint, and it could, and would, pop up to the surface of her thoughts at any time of the day or night. Always uninvited. Always loaded with pain and notes of forced sensuality.
She hoped her father was dead and didn’t hear how she screamed when that big stud of a man sodomized her.
Consuelo would die out of shame if she learned her father was still alive when that bugle boy—the one who had first taken her shoes off her feet—had taken his second turn inside her and she had felt the childish smallness of his drum-strong hands around her waist when he gave her his steady erection.
She had soon screamed her forced bliss in spite of her being so exhausted, as the boy repeatedly, frantically sank his prick inside her, his small hands running around the bright vastness of her tight butt.
Consuelo would never forget the dying sound of his ejaculation. If there was one man in that army she was happy to give pleasure to, it was that bugle boy with the face of an angel without a single hair of beard.
***
After the bugle boy came a man whose hands felt off when he held her. That man didn’t last long, but while it lasted, her lower legs struck and brushed against his boots and she realized—with a stinging sense of humiliation—that she was being taken by a man so short he could stand while she was herself on her knees.
A dwarf! A midget!
As she was being taken to the latrines, Consuelo bitterly cried upon trying unsuccessfully to forget the sight of that ugly dwarf when he walked away after filling her up with his filth.
He was a hunchback who reminded her of Quasimodo. As he walked away from her while happily re-buttoning his short trousers, Consuelo de Quesada saw he was horribly twisted and deformed in all his limbs, with only three or four fingers in his hands—thick fingers that had left an eternal imprint on her soul. She had been raped by… by this!
She remembered reading Notre-Dame de Paris from her father’s library in San Antonio the year before. Now she had the example of a dwarf shorter and even uglier than Quasimodo. She suddenly wished she no longer knew French.
Consuelo had seen his dagger as he walked away; the tawny-skinned dwarf had a long and noble erection. It was his only body part that wasn’t twisted.
At that point, Consuelo de Quesada saw Aaron. She saw that the colossal slave was gazing at her. He had seen her being raped by that hunchback dwarf! He was seeing her now in the nude…
As she was half-dragged, half-carried by the fat-smiling capitán and the sargento, Consuelo felt numbly aroused from her extreme sense of humiliation… Aaron had seen her naked amid soldiers and used like a whore.
Even from that far distance, Consuelo de Quesada had felt the intensity in his gaze. She knew he would have loved to partake, and worse, she felt that she knew she would have been forced to enjoy being in his arms.
***
The other women were being escorted out of the church and taken to the latrines as well. Consuelo saw them. They were all naked and paraded by jeering soldiers and cavalrymen. Pale spectres who used to be proud Yankee women, forced and helped to walk between rows of cobalt-blue and scarlet-red uniforms.
Forced to see the very reflection of their debasement against the enemy steel of cavalry cuirasses.
Consuelo came close to Mrs. O’Hara. Their eyes met. Mrs. O’Hara looked down while Consuelo felt that Mrs. O’Hara was weirdly attractive; to her, Mrs. O’Hara was more beautiful than herself. Aunt Anna was also there, walking by herself and following her mistress, her large tits overhanging her dark brown belly and the wideness of her chubby hips making her look like an African goddess of fertility.
Consuelo de Quesada found herself wondering what it would feel like to be kissed and overwhelmed by such a large big mama, whose feet seemed twice as big as hers.
After this came a poignant scene where Consuelo and Mrs. Dickinson spotted each other and threw themselves in each other’s arms, forgetting they were both Eve-naked.
Both women had lost the men they loved. Consuelo broke down in tears and cried out, “James! James! Aaahhh, James! …”
Mrs. Dickinson felt dead while still breathing. She wished to join her husband in death, but her young children needed her. She hoped Jenny her female slave was looking after them and knew she could always depend on her.
Also naked were Meg, Rose-Anne, Mary and Ann Blyth. The four sisters were bawling while hugging and forming a most compact circle of girly nakedness, their butts and backsides crudely shown by the sun as the dark-haired sisters sought comfort in their chestnut-haired elder sister. Grinning soldiers admired their long hair against their backside.
Meg was honouring her duty to comfort her sisters, but she herself needed just as much comforting as the others and kept looking for Consuelo above the cast-down heads of her sisters.
Consuelo and Mrs. Dickinson saw Ann, who was in tears and surrounded by Rose-Anne and Mary, who were literally drowning her in their tears. The twin sisters kept looking at Ann with disbelief in their rounded eyes, eyebrows raised in horror as they kept staring down at her with expressions that said, “you too?!”
Consuelo was suddenly met with Meg, who kissed her and said, “Consuelo, hold me!”
Mrs. Dickinson acted like a most-needed mother to the younger sisters, forgetting her own pains and trying to comfort them while Consuelo held Meg against her bosom. This while Mrs. O’Hara was crying herself to oblivion in Aunt Anna’s arms.
Consuelo wanted to burst out in tears and cry out James’ name again, but she felt Meg was looking up to her and wanted comfort from her.
She suddenly became aware of something very odd in Meg. Meg was kissing her, not in a sisterly way, but more like a lover. She was kissing her neck, more and more ravenously while breathing hard.
“Meg?! What are you doing?!” Consuelo whispered.
“Oh, Consuelo, I… I… I love you!” Meg whispered, unable to stop kissing that noble señorita she felt so strongly attracted to.
Consuelo felt Meg’s hands on her bosom. She was caressing her! Mexicans noticed this and laughed.
“Meg, please, hold yourself together! Your sisters will see you! The soldiers will see us!” Consuelo said fast, speaking English with a thick accent as her fatigued mind didn’t find it all that natural to speak in a second language.
She made her voice as soothing as she could, but there was something of a scolding tone in her voice.
Meg loved being scolded. For the first time in her life, she felt like a little sister being scolded by the elder one.
“Forgive me, Consuelo, but… Will you be my big sister? I… I need one so much! So much… I’m so, so much in pain… You don’t know what those men did to me in that church… They did… It was horrible! Horr—AAAAA AAAAAA AAAA aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa… I want to die!”
“Tut, tut tut! Oh, sweet Meg! Stay here with me! Cry all you want, it will do you good! Of course, you can be my little sister! Of course… We… We need each other… When we are set free from that hell, you… you and your sisters, you’ll come and live with me…”
Those words did have a comforting effect on Meg. She was a thousand broken shards of what used to be a virtuous girl, yet she felt immense joy at the prospect of living with someone she was in love with.
Consuelo soothed Meg with tears streaming down her own sunburnt cheeks, while Meg let loose her heavens and bitterly sobbed in her eyes, acting like a little girl for once in her life.
The Mexican dwarf was looking at the scene and grinned, although he did feel some compassion for them. Sancho was his name; he was a master spy whose physique served as a perfect cloak.
Mocked and despised by all, Sancho had always lived without hope for the touch of an attractive woman. Even the less-attractive ones loathed him. It was so unfair! He was born that way.
He was in Fort Alamo once, about two weeks before the siege began. He had been struck by Consuelo’s beauty and had chosen her right there, two weeks in advance. Two weeks of masturbating and thinking about what she would look and feel like in his arms, without her lovely plaid dress of light pink!
When her gang-rape began and went on and on, Sancho had very patiently waited for his turn inside Consuelo. The line-up had dwindled and ran out for the other girls and women. He could even have had the little Ann Blyth if he had so chosen, but no, he wanted to know Consuelo.
He had seen her so many times in San Antonio, then in Fort Alamo where he had given shows as a stage magician while taking stock of how many men were in that garrison, how many cannons they had, their supplies, ammunitions, etc.
“At last! At last!” Sancho had shouted in pure triumph as he found himself in front of Consuelo’s butt with her semen-filled cunt. Not to mention the full display of her legs and feet; the whiteness of her noble complexion was to die for!
While the Yankee girls were using the latrines under the close supervision of laughing Mexicans, who were especially numerous around Consuelo, Sancho stood by and relived the moment when he finally raped her!
He had let his long nose poke Consuelo’s butt! He had kissed and licked those noble buttocks while running feverish hands all over her thighs, feeling the soothing satisfaction of his hardening prick—the only good body part he had barring his quick-witted head.
He relished every second of that copulation. Three fingers of his left hand, four fingers of his right hand sunk into her peach-soft hips as he met Heaven in each stroke of his trusty dagger. It was beyond words!
Sancho had contemplated—and felt against him—the soft bumping of her butt, yes, Consuelo’s bum! Her fine crack of shadow, now made more subtle in the doggy style position she was in, between his crooked hands—those simple curves that a man’s mind failed to fully comprehend.
The butt of Consuelo seamlessly blended into her hourglass shape with that supple waist he had guessed so many times whenever he saw Consuelo in that pale pink dress with plaid fabric.
Soon, all too soon, he passed his edge and screamed his utmost bliss… “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA yyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAHHH NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGHHH… CONSUELO! At last! Hhrrrgghh…”
Sancho remembered how he had nodded with each of his bolts of semen that shot out of him and deep inside Consuelo. He had basked in the heat of his long-winded ejaculation as the massive bolts left his pulsating dagger.
Sancho saw how that Meg was kissing Consuelo as she cried in her arms. He was going to report it to General Santa Anna, unless… Unless he used the information to get more out of Consuelo. But then, soldiers had seen this too.
He knew for a fact that sooner than later, they would force Consuelo to make love with that girl. He wasn’t interested. Sancho only cared about his proud dagger and the two hours it would take for it to be ready again. He wanted to try Consuelo in a different position. And he was going to.
Leaving the derelict women where they were, Sancho went to the church. There, he prayed, alone, among discarded items of female clothing that kept company to a few shakos and whatnots that some soldiers had forgotten there.
The dwarf was asking God’s forgiveness for having done what he did. Sancho was a highly religious man. A highly moral character too.
The nave was now silent. Sancho remembered and knew what had occurred there. As he prayed, he could swear he was hearing female shrieks and wails. In his mind’s senses, he was still seeing Consuelo’s beauty and hearing her whimpers.
He ended up masturbating and trying to achieve a respectable erection, but it was too early. He left the church and went to look for Consuelo.
*** *** ***
Most of the Mexicans were busy cleaning up the fort and recovering the bodies; their own and the enemy’s.
The Mexican flag was now floating under the sky at Fort Alamo.
The victory had come with a heavy butcher’s bill. The doctor and his surgeons were very busy and so they would remain for the next few days.
Of the 1,800 troops the General had attacked Fort Alamo with on that fateful day, about 150 lay dead now and no less than 400 were wounded, some of whom would not pull through, some of whom would lose a limb. A third of the strength was lost.
Beyond that company of irregulars that had been kept in reserve, reinforcements were needed and fast as a full Yankee brigade was only three days away. Santa Anna was no longer strong enough to take them full-on in the open, but he could man and defend Fort Alamo and other strategic places.
Those heavy losses had given Santa Anna one more reason to grant his men the pleasure of the enemy’s women. He himself wasn’t able to resist the delight of seeing Consuelo in the nude amid his men; he had ended up partaking like he already knew he would.
With delight that was worth the risk.
General Santa Anna had already sent cavalry patrols to occupy vantage points and keep a close watch for the approaching enemy brigade.
Ideally, he would need to get started right away and begin repairing the damages from the final assault, but the General knew his men needed extra rest and solace.
He decided to give them the rest of that day, the entire night and the next day until noon to enjoy the Yankee women. They would love him more and work harder after.
The republican soldiers were now cleaning up the fort with remarkable efficiency. Most of those who had taken their pleasure had immediately put back their proper uniform on and helped with the chores; the rare slackers were being put under arrest for lack of discipline.
General Santa Anna had given his men a major plum in the form of Consuelo and the Yankee señoritas, but he expected discipline when he gave orders.
*** *** ***
Consuelo’s father had been taken to sickbay. He now lay in the very bed where James Bowie had met his heroic demise. And he was still breathing while hoping to have died before seeing the unwatchable.
While the corpses from both sides were being collected and prepared for a simple burial with military honours, Consuelo and all the other female prisoners were escorted to the well in the inner fort.
Grinning soldiers had prepared several hot tubs for baths.
Santa Anna had given permission to all hands to take a break from their chores and watch the Yankee women being helped to their bath by the musicians, officers and other men the General knew he could trust (since those men had that nasty habit of liking other men).
The General had given strict orders! The Yankee women were to be prepared for the burial of their men. They were to be dressed back in their best garments for the funerals.
No man was to touch them under flogging sentence. Until five o’clock.
The female slaves had been sent to the families’ private quarters. They came back with the women’s nicest dresses.
Consuelo stood amid countless male gazes. She also felt Meg’s amorous gaze on her naked charms. Captain Botez de San Toro and Aaron—still in chains—weren’t far away. They loved the sight of that butt-crack of shadow that followed Consuelo’s intimate curves and kept reminding them of her humiliated status.
Consuelo’s butt under the sun made a stronger statement than that Mexican flag that dominated the scene. Fort Alamo had fallen.
The victorious soldiers drank some more aguardiente as they smiled upon seeing more than twenty pairs of Yankee tits shimmering with soapy water under the sun. But Consuelo’s sun-wet tits took the cake! They just couldn’t get enough of her and her dripping-wet booty!
How cruel was their General to only allow them to look without licking that water off her! But five o’clock would come soon enough, yet time seemed at a sudden standstill.
Ann Blyth was numb with embarrassment and disbelief while men kept rubbing their hands on her—they were washing her out in the open for all to see.
Rose-Anne was right beside Mary her twin sister as both girls were getting their butts and legs thoroughly soaped and rinsed under all those male gazes.
Rose-Anne was silently sobbing and re-living her gang-rape in the sacristy; Mary was loudly wailing and reliving her brutal rape in the church’s nave, amid vile men who kept calling her “Rosa de Texas”.
Meg kept looking up at that Mexican flag and tried not to think that Aaron, Uncle Sam and the other negro slaves were chained, yet perfectly free to contemplate her as she stood naked and being washed in her own tub. Sitting down inside the tub was forbidden, and she didn’t want to know what the penalty would be. Sodomy? Worse? She had already suffered enough.
Consuelo stepped out of her tub amid so many burning gazes that she wondered how she had managed to survive up to that point.
A boy used a Mexican towel on her. Consuelo looked down at him and recognized him—the little bugle boy who had taken her!
Without thinking, she hugged him and kissed him ravenously! It was as if he was her only chance at salvation and it depended on how passionately she could kiss the twelve-year-old boy.
Miss Amy, her personal slave, came back with her pale pink dress. Miss Amy had some difficulty walking. The 30-year-old African slave had herself been raped after the assault, but she was putting a tough display in front of all, especially in front of Consuelo. The hardest part for Amy was to keep her tears from rolling out of her eyes. Seeing her Milady being debased and humiliated was killing her.
“Consuelo!!!” Amy shouted, forgetting herself and calling her mistress by her first name.
But Consuelo didn’t hear her. In front of the cavalry Coronel, who sternly ordered the men to stand and watch and preferred to do nothing, Consuelo was already on her knees and unbuttoning the bugle boy’s trousers.
Out went his hard cock. Consuelo gladly took it inside her mouth!
The boy’s face was transfixed with joy and amazement. He had already been inside a woman, but this was the very first time a woman was pleasuring him using her mouth.
“The General wants you to wear that dress, Milady!” Miss Amy said, showing her that pale pink dress and knowing that her mistress would want to wear black as a sign of mourning.
Consuelo indeed took the boy’s prick outside her mouth; she turned her head toward Amy and saw she had the wrong dress. She thought of James while instinctively taking hold of the bugle boy’s hard dagger with her hand. The Coronel, the soldiers and Meg all looked on, petrified with astonishment.
“Amy, go fetch my black dress. I can only wear black to-day!”
Consuelo de Quesada spoke while massaging the boy’s prick…
The bugle boy uttered a long-winded growl, “OOAAAAHHHRRRR YYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAHHHHHHH NNNGGH!!!”
His seed shot out in strong ropes that gave half Consuelo’s face the rich coat of seed it truly deserved.
Consuelo, lovely to look at while naked on her knees, just stared down at the dusty ground and began to cry silently, thinking of James. Crushed by grief.
She understood that those quick encounters in the stable where they kissed and made out would be her only sexual memories of James; that she’d never know what his dagger would feel like in her mouth, for he had insisted on waiting ‘til they be married.
“Amy, go get my dark shawl, will you?”
“Yes, Milady!”
Consuelo knew there was no time to go get another dress, that she had to get dressed right away. Her suddenly keen senses gathered not only that steamy stickiness on her face, but also the fact that the General would punish all the women if she stepped further out of line.
At least, she would have that dark brown shawl to cover herself with when she’d be praying for the souls of her departed James and her departed father. She hoped her father was dead by now, for she knew he saw her when she was… and… and it would be better this way.
Consuelo wouldn’t admit it to herself, but the notion of wearing that pale plaid-patterned dress among the enemy soldiers was something that sparked secret arousal within her.
With feverish hands, Consuelo put her pale dress on. She was unable to resist the secret temptation of leaving her dress top wide open for a longer time, giving all the men one last show of how her perky breasts were pushed out of her chest and gave her torso that fullness of shapes that drove men mad with arousal, even now that so many of them had taken their relief inside her or the other women.
She finally closed the play of her dress and did all the buttons from the waist up. Once covered with that dress, and without a corset, the shapes of her girly mounds were perhaps even more cock-hardening, at least for some. Only men knew this.
***
Mrs. O’Hara and Aunt Anna were feeding cheers and catcalls from the uniformed onlookers as their turn had come to step and stand inside their bath-tubs.
A mean-looking Sergeant threatened them with his bayonet and ordered Mrs. O’Hara to start kissing her portly slave! Aunt Anna felt grossly embarrassed, yet secretly aroused.
The cavalry Coronel who had raped Meg’s face came near and barked at the infantry Sergeant; this would be reported to his company capitán and he would risk demotion if he didn’t cut it out right now! The General’s orders were strict! No funny business until five.
But then, Mrs. O’Hara was already kissing Aunt Anna!
Be it out of fear or out of exhaustion, or out of a sheer need for comfort, Mrs. O’Hara was now pressing her lips against Anna’s brown lips, and her tongue was used too!
Anna wanted to push her mistress away, yet she also found a strange kind of forbidden fruit upon feeling her tongue inside her mouth.
The soldiers began to catcall and cheer them anew as they witnessed the scene; Mrs. O’Hara made it glamorous while Aunt Anna made it grotesque.
The Coronel loved what he was seeing. Already, that white naked wife was lowering herself and kissing the big mama’s udders. The sight of that pale rosy mouth against that profusion of brown flesh… Unthinkable!
Mrs. O’Hara was living a fantasy. She was about to tell Anna she had often thought of doing this and order her to please eat her pussy, when the General barked a loud order…
“Stop this! Stop this immediately! My orders also apply to prisoners with one another!”
Mrs. O’Hara almost didn’t hear. She was still kissing Anna’s udders when Anna herself stopped her by grabbing her head inside her large hands and made her look at the pissed-off General.
General Santa Anna took his watch out of his jacket’s pocket and saw that it was about two o’clock, give or take three minutes due to his watch not being Swiss. He smiled.
The General kept smiling as the entire place went silent. Only the Mexican flag at the wind was heard along with the distant cries of a crow.
He looked at the black slaves. He looked at Mrs. O’Hara.
“Capitán Botez! Unchain those five tall slaves you see over there! If this Yankee lady likes dark skin, then we’ll provide her with some!”
Aaron smiled a mile wide as he heard the General. Granted, he was disappointed to be “only” allowed to rape Mrs. O’Hara, but he was going to do so right in front of Consuelo, and he was going to show her how well-endowed he was!
Uncle Sam was similarly disappointed, but he understood that Ann would see his prick and at any rate, filling up Mrs. O’Hara was going to be the thrill of a lifetime, something that few slaves ever get to experience—to fuck a young and beautiful white woman.
Aunt Anna was hit and held down on her knees, where she was to watch, while Mrs. O’Hara was seized and brought in the middle of the place, where all would see what came next.
Mrs. O’Hara was looking all around her, her lips trembling while the girls who had washed were ordered to quickly get dressed and the rest of the women were to quickly get their bath done with.
“No… No, please… Nooo…” Mrs. O’Hara pleaded as the grinning Sergeants brought her to the centre spot.
She remembered how that dark-skinned Mestizo had raped her, how she had wished to be dead rather than take that animal’s filth… And now… Even worse! Africans!!!
“Nooooooo!” Mrs. O’Hara screamed in panic.
She kept screaming, her arms restrained by Sergeants, as she saw Mexicans undoing Aaron’s chains, freeing his thick wrists and ankles and similarly freeing Uncle Sam and three other slaves, all of whom were tall and well built.
Most of the Mexicans didn’t approve of this. They felt it was an abomination to let black men have white women, that it would make those slaves filled with lust for the master’s wife and daughters and pose a dangerous risk later on.
At the same time, most of those same soldiers had enjoyed the Yankee women, thanks to their General, so they weren’t going to say anything. Yet many left in disgust and went back to the collecting of bodies and other chores. Some took the time off to start writing a letter to their wife, telling them they were all right and not mentioning anything about rape.
Some soldiers never took any interest in the raping of women, other than merely watch while smoking and drinking or playing cards, or perhaps write a letter to their wife or girlfriend back home. Others were never inside an enemy woman, fearing venereal diseases, but they found funny to shoot a load on a Yankee bitch to humiliate her.
This being said, most of the gathered soldiers felt savagely aroused and looked forward to watch the naked white woman get used by five slaves.
General Santa Anna ordered the bugle boy and the Coronel to bring Consuelo near him. He saw the group of bugle and drummer boys who had been helping the girls and wives back into their best dresses. Mrs. Dickinson and the four Blyth daughters looked like they were heading for a town to pay a social call, except they wore nothing under their dress—no petticoats, no corsets. Just a swell dress.
As Consuelo got closer, Santa Anna saw her in that same dress he had first seen him before the assault; her tits… So tantalizingly close…
“Coronel!” he hollered, “Tell the men I’ve changed my plans. They may grab the women and do as they please until five! Then we’ll honour the dead…”
Then, General Antonio López de Santa Anna grabbed Consuelo by the front of her dress top. She was sobbing without a sound and feebly resisting.
The Coronel barked the General’s welcome orders. Capitán Botez relayed it and bugle boys took their instruments and blew a happy tune as the soldiers let out a deafening roar of cheers that scared the crows and vultures as they grabbed the freshly washed and clad women.
All the black slaves were unchained as well. All hell broke loose!
As the wails and squeals from the women filled the air in the inner fort, General Antonio López de Santa Anna forced a long kiss on Consuelo’s priceless lips, ignoring the drying semen on the right side of her face, as the Coronel grabbed her arms from behind and the bugle boy went down at her feet to worship them, for Consuelo was still barefoot.
Then, at last, General Antonio López de Santa Anna finally did what he had wanted to do since he first spotted Consuelo through his spyglass. He gripped the front of her pale dress and with a loud yell, he savagely ripped the front of the delicate fabric and sent the buttons flying down as he revelled in the sharp sound of tearing fabric. “TSSHHRRRIIIIIPPP!”
The widening curtains of torn fabric gave way to a cleavage that instantly gave way to the sensual play of Consuelo’s free-moving tits.
The General’s loud yell marked his unmitigated satisfaction.
Consuelo’s gorgeous breasts were suddenly there, gloriously hit by the sun, their tips of brownish rose moving with her sensual panic, in a debauchery of splendour, a bit pink from sunburns due to her previous gang-rape atop that cannon.
Both mounds were his for him to suck and get hard as the noble señorita squealed from her deep humiliation.
The cavalry Coronel looked at those tits from above her shoulder, restraining her arms and enjoying the plunging view while getting a whiff of her dark hair. He had enjoyed Meg in the sacristy and was very eager to try out that noble señorita he had heard so much praise about.
The General gave in to his primal urge. He plunged onto Consuelo’s breasts and marked his territory with a great profusion of slobber as he licked her supple flesh like a dog and couldn’t get enough of that dough from heaven that yielded so suavely under his brutal tongue strokes. This was exactly what he had wanted to do from the very start.
“Aaahh! This is worth losing so many men!” the General exclaimed as he pinched Consuelo’s nipple between his lips and gently pulled, forcing her body to acknowledge the domination.
Consuelo sobbed and panted, trying to repress her arousal, but she recognized the touch and kisses of that bugle boy on her lower legs and feet… She started to moan as the two high-ranking officers covered her with tequila-flavoured kisses.
As her back arched under those assaults, Consuelo felt her back pressed against the cold hardness of the Coronel’s cuirass. It reminded her of that cannon and fed her forced arousal.
Like two brigands masquerading as officers, the General and the Coronel laid her down on the dirt. With the bugle boy licking and kissing her feet as much as he could, General Santa Anna tucked up Consuelo’s dress all the way up!
He found her lush triangle of darkness—her carpet of cunt hair. He went to spread her legs apart, but she kept her legs glued and shook her head in refusal.
This gave the General the opportunity of folding her legs together and pushing them to the side, where he contemplated the pointed play of her fabulous feet. She was so dainty!
As he ran his gaze all over those sensual lines, noticing the treasures Consuelo had for legs and the noble richness of her complexion, the General and the Coronel both got as hard as horny centaurs.
The General propped her legs all the way up and nodded at the Coronel, who understood and grabbed her ankles, which he held together.
Consuelo was right there, her dress fully tossed against her waist, her half-folded legs all the way up and held by the Coronel, her feet high in plain sight, while the bugle boy moved around opposite the officers; the boy was now near her face and gently holding her shoulders down on the ground while kissing her. Consuelo felt overwhelmed! Being dominated by that small boy drove her nuts!
The General laid himself down on his side where his crotch was in line with Consuelo’s hairy cunt, easily available as her legs were fully propped up together, and he hurriedly unbuttoned and lowered his trousers. Out went his cock.
Just the sight of Consuelo’s bare legs and feet were enough to sustain a long and hard erection. Yes, she was worth losing so many men!
With his throbbing cock, he pushed inside Consuelo and began to copulate, grabbing her hips and upper thighs where his body formed a carnal junction with hers.
In that position perpendicular from her, his uniform getting dusty and dirty where he lay on his side, the General raped Consuelo and enjoyed the most wonderful profile view on her legs, her feet and the jiggling splendour of her tits, fully revealed amid that wide vee of her torn-open dress.
The General realized he had already forgotten how tight she was!
He raped Consuelo de Quesada, again, with even more delight than the previous time. Her wonderful face was bobbing along with his beastly rhythm, amid the afternoon dust, amid the sun, amid the bugle boy’s kissing, amid the Coronel’s caresses on her legs as he kept his hold on her ankles and waited his turn.
In the General’s mind revolved a fast flurry of images—Consuelo standing on top of that wall beside her father, the assault, a ball that whizzed near him, the loud clamour as the Mexicans won the assault, and that priceless moment where he ripped her pale pink dress open to uncover the secrets of her tits.
His thoughts kept coming back to those tits, and their tips that kept jiggling under the bright sun. The fort was overrun and this happened—Consuelo’s tits under the sun, her feet, her sensuality, her lush patch of southern hair, her moans, her tits… It always boiled down to the movements of her tits under the Texas sun.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA YYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHRRRNN DDDJJ NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNHHGGGH !!!”
He was taken by God’s delight so suddenly he was already into his massive eruption as he became aware he felt weightless as he gave Consuelo his semen in thick dollops. It felt so good! What a rush!
Once the General was back up on his feet, the Coronel also laid down on his side and grabbed Consuelo’s waist. He turned her onto her side, helped by the amorous bugle boy, and as several soldiers and two black slaves came nearby, the Coronel put his hands on Consuelo’s hips and guided his prick into her entrance, which he found at the base of her impressively gorgeous butt.
Lying on his side with her on her own side with her butt against him, the cavalry Coronel ran his feverish hands around the contours of Consuelo’s bottom. This guaranteed a raging expansion of his already-hard dagger.
Consuelo was too weak to put up any resistance. Besides, she knew that all those men would pin her down and give her no choice.
The Coronel took her in that position, the same he used for his young wife and his two mistresses. He felt the bliss of Consuelo’s vagina and reaped the fruit of his conquest as he exhaled a loud, “Aaaahhh!” and penetrated her without any apology. And he began to bump her butt against him as he raped her with his ivory-white trousers down.
His cuirass made the deed uncomfortable, but he refused to abandon the luxury of her tight vagina.
Knowing he would soon have to switch position, the Coronel urgently banged Consuelo, listening to her fast-paced whimpers as he took her with all the fury he had in store for her. Raping Consuelo felt like raping Lady Luck herself. It felt so amazing that it bordered on the spiritual.
As he kept enjoying her tight smoothness around his prick, Coronel Ramirez de Terreros was glad he had come to this shit-pile of dust after all.
He looked around and saw a group of Mexicans in the act of gang-raping a beautiful brunette around twenty-five years of age who kept protesting and telling them she was Irish. She was being raped missionary style by big Pedro, with his round, fat face and his Sergeant’s epaulettes in full rapid motions as he grunted and sweated over the widow and was almost done.
Two tall black slaves stood by, their cocks looking like dark shiny leather under the sun as they masturbated and waited their turn. Both were smiling wide, lighting up their dark faces and clearly looking forward to their ride inside her.
The Coronel pictured that proud Irish woman getting double-raped by those slaves and he let out a wild animal’s series of grunts. He furiously tapped Consuelo’s peachy buttocks against him and let go a great profusion of seed. He felt weightless as he took his relief inside her!
The boy, even though he had coated her face with his slime not that long before, was already hard!
The Coronel helped him by moving Consuelo around to where she was pinned on her back with both arms held by the cavalry officer on either side of her face.
The bugle boy laid himself down on top of her.
Unable to resist her bodily urges, she spread out her legs for him, insanely aroused at the prospect of taking so young a boy inside her.
Consuelo moaned out loud as he speared himself inside her and she felt his throbbing heat that gently stretched her pussy and began rubbing her in the right place as he started to pound her, his boy’s face just above her jiggling tits as he took her with his torso propped up on straight arms.
Her clenched hands forming gentle little fists where the Coronel held her wrists, Consuelo wrapped the boy inside her closed legs and took him as deep as she wanted to.
He was ravaging her with the impetus of a grown man as he grunted and grunted louder and louder still, in that heated crescendo that soon finished with a glorious flourish… Consuelo let out a furious series of pain-sounding moans as she climaxed in his arms and he gave her his love sauce.
The boy kissed her and said, “Gracias”. He left. The next man came—the fat capitán! She let capitán Botez de San Toro have his way with her.
He started by covering her titties with heated tongue strokes that lacked the animalistic elegance she had felt from the General. The capitán was more brutish in the way he licked Consuelo’s breasts.
He soon moved himself between her wide-spread legs and forcefully entered her. The fat capitán pressed her cheek with his lips as he began to rape her, enjoying the scent of her hair and the feel of her against him. He loved that deep closeness.
He had first raped her from behind, while standing. At present, he was happy to have her face-to-face, cheek to cheek, as she bobbed along with the rhythmic chaos of the rape he gladly offered her.
Before long, Consuelo’s vagina became too much pressure for him and he had no other choice other than letting out a wild exhalation of bliss against her face, giving her his tequila-loaded breath as he filled her up with his load, the second of the day he had for her.
Then, the rank-and-file steamrolled her into complete sexual surrender while the bugle boy kept kissing and caressing her feet whenever he could.
Consuelo was taken by men of all sizes and heights and weights—a tequila-breath platoon that steamrolled her and filled her up with their compound seed, making her understand what she already knew all too well—she belonged to the regiment.
From a stout man with a three-day beard and a sun-baked face who weighed around 280 pounds, down to a young Ensign-bearing Lieutenant who didn’t weighed much more than her, Consuelo was shaken with more or less heaviness, but always hammered good and steady.
All those men and boys were so happy to have her and plant their seed inside her! It was all so repetitive, but they weren’t getting bored at all.
Then came a monstrously deformed being—that dwarf!
Consuelo suddenly began to resist as she understood he was moving in to take his turn. Not him! Not again!
Men who already had emptied themselves held her fast. Consuelo was forced to let that hunchback lie down on top of her and sink inside her.
She did not have to look down at him while the rape lasted, but she hated the feel of his face pressed onto her breasts and the heat of his heavy breathing against them as the dwarf took his pleasure.
Yet she was unable not to look at how ugly he was. He presently took her while cupping her tits in his hands that had three or four fingers. Thick and crooked fingers.
Consuelo suddenly remembered him… How could she not recognize him?! He was that stage magician who had come to Fort Alamo a short while before the siege.
He had that same dark light in his eyes amid his frog-like face as she looked at him and saw his mug against her moving tits, as they both moved along with the same impetus, with the same forcibly shared strokes. His strokes were surprisingly strong given his diminutive size and he felt very full inside her.
Sancho then emitted what looked like a cross between the sounds of a rutting donkey and a mooing cow.
“HUUHAAOOOOOOOoooooooooooooowwngh!!!”
The hunchback nodded his head along with the heated bolts he shot inside her, basking in the heat of his massive ejaculation as he concluded his act.
Consuelo felt strangely curious to compare; she found herself wishing for another dwarf who would have taken her from behind. She was dominated by her own body that did all it could to mask to growing pain she had down there.
She didn’t get a dwarf. Three drummer boys had been waiting their turns.
She summoned her waning energy and placed herself on her hands and legs, inviting them to use her from behind and oblivious to the sounds of the great many gang-rapes in progress, where she recognized the voice of Meg calling her name, or was she?
The taller and older drummer boy took his turn first. He knelt behind her and impressed her with the commanding hold he took of her sore waist. Consuelo was immorally happy to be used by him. He was maybe thirteen years old; his dagger had yet to grow some more, so the rape was comfortably uncomfortable and soon morphed into an orgy of diffused pleasure as the drummer boy accelerated and she felt herself utterly taken from behind, her knees in the dirt, the soft skin of her feet caressed by that same dirt as he twitched inside her.
After his ecstasy, he left and was replaced by a smaller boy, perhaps eleven years old, who stumbled a bit to find her entrance, but once he did, he furiously jabbed his small prick until a minute later, where he seemed lost in an attempt to glue his lap to her butt forever as he growled loudly and his boy’s pudding flooded Consuelo.
The third drummer boy made that boy understand he was finished. After tossing the smaller boy aside, that last boy took his pleasure and consumed her like a champion, wearing his shako as he gave much glory to all twelve-year-old boys in this world.
While he was furiously pounding her, Consuelo looked behind, expecting to find the grunting face of a boy about fifteen years old; but instead, she saw a negro boy wearing a shako with the decorated uniform of a drummer boy.
She screamed with the shock and felt a jolt of unstoppable arousal as she realized she was being used by a black boy, an African boy who should never have been anywhere near doing this.
His small hands on her waist were like fire!
Consuelo went into a loud series of bitch-sounding groans and moans as something forbidden inside her exploded, and she thought of Aaron in that stable when she screamed her wild bliss.
The black drummer boy exploded inside her, then he left her with a slap on her butt.
Then she was grabbed and lifted by an enormously strong pair of hands.
She saw it was a black slave, and a huge one.
She recognized him. Aaron!
Two other slaves also grabbed and lifted her.
With a circle of her rapists looking on, the three slaves held Consuelo between them, and Aaron was the first to stand and spear himself between her open legs.
Consuelo was rocked with disbelief and shameful heat overflowing her body. Bombs of animal lust exploded everywhere at once under her skin, baking her with forced delight from head to toe, as Aaron sank deep inside her and began to pound her with his enormous erection.
Its thick base brushed her where it mattered as her senseless head bobbed between the smiling slaves who held her in their arms while Aaron was cupping her butt in his insanely strong hands.
“Aaa—haaaah… Aa-haaaahhh! Aaa—haaahh… No… No this is not—aaahhaaaaahh—possible!” Consuelo moaned in Spanish.
Aaroon shook and baked her so good that she forgot she knew English.
Consuelo pictured herself being fucked by Aaron in that stable. This is what it should have been!
Was it really a rape? Her body liked so much having Aaron inside!
“Aah! Haah, Milady! Milady! Oohh Lord Jesus!” Aaron uttered amid his grunts.
At last! At last! He was fucking the white señorita! His cock was inside her!
He kept remembering the sight of her when fully clothed, putting her dignified image against the erotic display of her jiggling breasts. She was still half-clothed with that same pale dress she wore in that stable!
Aaron had no more words left. His body shivered. His legs started to go wobbly under him as that immense ball of fiery delight became too big inside him as he kept pounding Consuelo. Milady’s vagina!
“Ooh! Milady! Milady! I love you! AHHH! YES! YES—YES! YES YES YES YES! This is it…Hhmmnnn AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! MILLL-AAA-DEE!!! Take m’ seed!”
Aaron looked both angry and insane, but there was extreme joy in his round eyes and his wide-open mouth as he emptied all his African stores inside her.
Consuelo would never forget that demented expression on Aaron’s mud-brown face as he ejaculated with such a bliss that told her he had been fantasizing about her a lot more intensely than she had suspected.
The next slave who took her struck the same message home—black slaves often secretly want to fuck a beautiful white milady.
Aaron took the man’s place and held her left side as that older man, Big George, dropped his worn-out trousers and revealed an erection that was average in length, but its base was really thick.
She knew Big George. He was a slave belonging to the Dickinsons. He would always smile kindly at her and humbly greet her while barely looking at her.
But now she saw his true face… the mug of his lust for her. He looked almost angry as he stared at her and forced a kiss on her.
“Now, Milady! Now!” he said as he took his dagger in his hand and guided it into her entrance.
“Hhaawwww! Milady! At last! At last! Yes! Oohh, Good God this is good!” he uttered as he grabbed Consuelo’s silky thighs and began to strike home inside her, forcing her to moan with pain and compelled delight with the thickness of his stick.
Between Aaron and the third slave holding her in position, Consuelo once more became the toy of black slaves.
Big George was sweating intensely and kept voicing his satisfaction as he took her and made it look as if he was trying to surpass Aaron in aggressiveness. Consuelo moaned out loud as she was taken by another climax in their arms, fucked by slaves with none of her pale feet touching the dust.
Big George ended up looking toward the sky as he shouted, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH THANK YOU GOD!” and filled up the noble señorita with a biblical load of seed.
He had no idea doing this to a white girl would feel this amazing.
“Too bad your father isn’t here to witness this!” Big George said as he pulled out of her.
With fascination, he watched his own seed as it dripped down from her entrance, and he was still unable to wrap his head around the fact that he was actually looking at Consuelo’s dark triangle of cunt hair while her hips made a lovely outline as Aaron and the third slave helped her to stay on her feet. Her surrendered tits and her dishevelled hair nicely completed the picture. Big George also loved the smallness of her feet.
“I love your legs and tits, Milady!”
Big George left her with those parting words.
Dark George was the third and last slave left.
He nudged Consuelo down onto the ground and into a position where she was down on all fours, with Aaron’s help.
Both slaves gave in to their urges and did something they had always dreamed of doing to a white mistress—under the fascinated gaze of their Mexican onlookers, they began to kiss and lick Consuelo’s butt. The negroes covered her highly prized whiteness with their slobber from the gutter.
The noble señorita felt their tongue strokes and secretly enjoyed it.
She let them have their way. She tried to will herself into some token resistance, but the feel of negro mouths on her pale butt was too fascinating, and very sensual too. It was all so unreal!
Whatever was taking place inside the fort on that dusty day must always remain a secret.
After the foreplay, Dark George and his impossibly dark hands were seen as a shocking reality on Consuelo’s bum as he took his champion’s kneeling position behind her and gave her the full and unbridled benefit of his cock.
Hard and trusty was his black cock. Enough to give Consuelo one final round of forced bliss where she moaned like a whore. And the dark slave owned her.
He subjected her to the most violent barrage of stallion-like thrusts, giving her the same feelings as a Dutch settler’s wife getting raped by a large Zulu warrior while the farm house was on fire and her husband was still a warm corpse.
Consuelo remembered James and started to sob amid her moaning, feeling unfathomable guilt as Dark George uttered some animalistic, unintelligible sounds as he furiously rushed his pace and gave her all his stored-up seed.
“What a trollop you make, Miss Consuelo de Quesada!”
She recognized the General’s voice. He was frantically masturbating and trying to make himself hard.
Soldiers seized her and held her on her knees, with her face and tits offered for the General as he kept stimulating his half-hard cock.
“Just a… Trollop! A tramp! For… Sla-aaaves… Hha—aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh…”
As he exhaled with delight, General Santa Anna let go a milky rain of seed that landed in pearls of rancid stickiness on the tits of Consuelo de Quesada.
The Coronel followed suit. He smiled down on her and masturbated as if his life depended on how hard he was stroking his not-so-bad erection. Consuelo was held in place with nowhere else to go.
She had to receive the blanket of disgusting heat on her face while hearing the sickening groans he made as his load shot out of his uncircumcised cock.
Next came the fat capitán! After a short bout of intensive self-love, he said “Gracias, señorita bonita” and he gave her a heartfelt load on her upper chest, most of it forming small glossy rivers that ebbed down onto her already-smeared tits.
Then came a host of Sergeants, Corporals and Privates, mostly infantrymen with some cavalrymen.
Consuelo was made to lie down on the dust; her breasts and face offering spots of glossy infamy as all those men took their turns in forming a kneeling circle around her—five or six men at a time—and they all masturbated until their goo exited and polluted Consuelo’s glorious nakedness.
What a rush it was to do this to a Señorita de Quesada!
Most followed the example of their General or their Coronel and compounded the loads on her face and tits. Some chose her cunt, her thighs… Others preferred her lower legs and her feet. Many wiped their semen-soaked cocks in her hair.
Lastly, Aaron and Big George and Dark George came back.
They rubbed her with their dark hands and spread an even coat of that seed all over Consuelo’s well-loved body.
“This is very nice and proper for Milady!” Aaron said as he kept up his forced massage and Consuelo was unable not to moan as she felt his African hands on her semen-soiled body.
“Now, Milady! Open your lovely little mouth! Aaron wants you to drink his sperm!”
Upon those words, Aaron took a kneeling position and frantically masturbated right over her face.
Much to his surprise, Consuelo opened her mouth wide as he built a nice surging erection.
He kept at it until he exploded and aimed his shots of falling jism directly into her open mouth.
As she took her first taste of African semen, Consuelo realized that Aaron could have taken her in that stable; she wouldn’t have resisted nor even made a sound and she would have even let him do this to her.
She swallowed all his seed.
Big George and Dark George followed suit.
Consuelo de Quesada also kept her mouth open for them and drank their semen! Semen from black slaves that used to be so subservient to her and the other white women!
After the slaves came the drummer boys. They did the same thing. They got down on their knees and masturbated. Consuelo also swallowed their sludge. Mexican semen didn’t taste as sweet as African sperm. More ammonia.
“Consuelo de Quesada is a true branded whore! Wait until we tell your father about this!” the General bellowed.
“He’s still alive?!”
And Consuelo started to cry, getting more sunburns as she lay on her back, naked amid the Mexicans, all covered with drying semen with her mouth and gullet also filled up with goo.
James’s ghost was right up there in the sky. He could see her! She was sure of it.
She bitterly sobbed and balled herself in foetal position.
The soldiers all agreed. Consuelo de Quesada was even more beautiful in the nude. They played cards and drank tequila; they saw Quesada in all their queens, especially the Queen of Spades.
TO BE CONTINUED.
