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New Rules — Chapter 64—Angels of Devil’s Gorillas

“Do you see where my whip rests for the moment as I decide where to strike next?” The gasp that followed was soft, but clearly audible.

A Collaborative effort by Medium.com/@toddhammerrick and Medium.com/@evelyngaede

[embed]List: Angels of Devils Gorillas | Curated by Evelyn Gaede | Medium Angels of Devils Gorillas · Sturgis, wrong turn lands 2 cousins on the wrong road · 63 stories on Mediummedium.com

Chapter 64

“Crawdad will need somewhere to keep the girls as they rebuild.” Juan made that statement as he stood on the veranda of his own hacienda deep in the heart of Castro’s Cuba.

“I am wondering where he will house so many.” Thoughtful now, Juan Dominguez tried to put himself in Crawdad’s place. From where he stood, the choice was so limited as to be non-existent.

“Do not count him out, Papa. He may appear rough, but just as your act of clueless drunk was misleading, so may his as well.”

Tito had not meant to comment but could not remain Time would show who assessed this situation most correctly without riling his father into arguing a point neither man could control.

Issuing a long sigh, the young Cuban stood to accept the mojito his father’s favorite slave offered him, taking one of two tall glasses that sparkled. He savored the first sip, a refreshing concoction of white rum, mint, lime & sugar.

Tito watched his father reach for the second glass, gauged how tense Rosa was as she waited for his father to take his first taste, then subtly from tense and fearful to smiles and nods once she was certain the drink pleased him. If it hadn’t tasted as he thought it should, the resulting reaction could range from mild irritation to extreme anger.

Both Juan and Rosa held their breath. There were times, and this was very likely one of them, when events before this drink even came to this room. Today had not been a good day for Juan, a man who lived most of his days outside, but through hours of hurricane had suffered, forced to remain safe in the bowels of this hacienda.

Juan knew that both Tito and Rosa nervously waited his level of satisfaction. To torture them he deliberately prolonged his critique. When at last he did, he watched both visibly relax.

“Exactly right, Rosa, my little puta. You did well. This will go down fast. I hope you made a pitcher?”

“Sí! Mi amo!” The pretty face lit with a huge grin; glad she had pleased Juan when his earlier mood had been quite argumentatively sour.

It was not only the drink which had lightened his mood but the prospect of having Crawdad’s favorites and very best that he had greedily refused to sell. Where would he house such treasures now?

“Have Marco bring three of the new slave girls to me.” “Of course, Master. Right away.”

Hearing such a soft seductive voice call him Master always stirred his blood and alerted his cock to many treats ahead. All he had to do was state what was most desired at that moment.

Tito felt his cock stand at attention as suddenly, with just a glance down the front of Rosa’s sundress, his cock wanted free of the tight confines of his pants.

Crawdad came out of the bunker braced to view the very worst. Ray and Onyx followed immediately after, pausing halfway up the metal ladder to issue a stern warning.

Two men stay with the women. Up there will be toxic. Old manor house. No telling what might have torn loose to poison the air, water, or ground.” A command met with loud groans. “Last man out shut this door!” That command brought even louder groans of discontent.

The one thing Onyx did not want to do was glance at Crawdad, but then, he was used to doing what his psyche insisted impossible.

“Oh lord!” Onyx exclaimed, just as his mama Ti always had after each hurricane or tornado. that struck near New Orleans. “I never knew if she meant thankful for being alive, maybe expressed despair, or simply overwhelmed at the long road of cleanup stretching days and weeks ahead through another rebuild.”

“Both, I would imagine,” a voice behind him supplied, then coughed through his first nose and mouthful of dust laden air.

Crawdad simply stared, his head rotating, gazing all around him.

Ray came up from behind, the very last to climb out of the hole that had kept 41 bodies safe and dry through seventy-five hours of a vicious tornado and hungry hurricane… two days, three nights.

Hard to grasp.

Three days before, what they viewed now had been a postcard view of historical Americana: pillared mansion, decorated with wizened Cypress and Pecan trees, the grand manor built on the ancient lie of a comfortable, effortless life beneath the veil of southern gentility.

Ray gave the older Gorilla time to mourn, new the man well enough to recognize that moment when Crawdad shook himself free, became in the blink of one short second the warrior ready to fight nature to reclaim, then rebuild what was rightfully his.

“There’s going to be gators out here.” Crawdad lifted one arm to point. “Watch for snakes when you poke through and around the rubble of the house, even closer watch when cleaning up the branches, bark and leaf litter of trees and shrubs.”

Spying one danger spit out of the swamp during the storm, Crawdad picked up a forked branch to snag a copperhead before it fully emerged from beneath a shattered manor wall, threw it into the marsh waters.

“Keep the women in the storm cellar. Isn’t safe for them with the critters thrown out of the swamp by the storms... probably the Tornado. I see one bad ass right over there… Old Toothless…”

Crawdad pointed toward the bridge connecting the plantation to the highway beyond. “That gator’s been king of this marsh for the last 20 years… whole time I’ve lived here. Who know HOW long before that?

“Watch him. He’s out here gathering up his kin, herding them back to the swamp. He won’t stop until he’s searched this whole yard. There’s one over there… and there… I could sit and watch him all day, as he gathers them, searches for kith and kin… but damn. There’s work to be done.

“Barry boot up your laptop. We should still have satellite. Get ahold of this guy…” Crawdad rummage in his wallet for a list of numbers kept for emergencies like this. “Tell him…”

A glance for Old Toothless while Barry snapped a pic of the business card.

“Find us a big double wide. We’ll have to live crowded together for a while. Call Seafeldt in Wisconsin, order a barn. Same specs as the last one.”

“Why so far north?”

“Businesses close are facing the same clean-up we are. It could be days or weeks before they are back up for business. Spiraling out…” Crawdad sighed, sent another disparaging glance around the immediate vicinity, tracking movements of snake and alligators.

“Businesses outside of the storms range… which we still don’t know… will all be inundated with orders. By ordering so far North, we’ll get what we need much sooner. I’m a repeat customer, pay cash in advance. I’m hoping that company will remember that, give us a little consideration.

“Inside, give these specs: portable shower room, minimum 7 shower heads. Same with toilets. Camp cots to bed the sluts... order them from a hardware store near Seafeldt make it part of the deal that he trailers all of that down here with him.”

Fifteen minutes later, Crawdad, Ray, Onyx and Barry were on their phones, setting up meetings and appointments with contractors and mobile home sales.

He meant to order everything from the north Midwest States, far from the Louisiana. His warehouse-barn and temporary housing would all come from points way north, all orders confirmed before the rest of the nation even caught sight of 5 o’clock footage documenting the damage from this last storm cell.

When Marco brought ALL those purchased at Crawdad’s auction, not just the three he’d requested, he couldn’t hide the grin that erased some of his bad mood. Content to simply sit and watch, Juan and Tito didn’t speak except to note each detail that one or the other found most erotic.

Marco fastened each girl tight to the wall with wrists and ankles in metal cuff rings clipped to O-Rings placed at various heights on two walls. All ankles spread wide, leaving their vulvas openly exposed.

Tito took in each detail, pulled his cock out, used a glob of hand lotion to provide lubrication. He meant to jack off, shoot at least one load before Marco released them for a round of fuck-play.

Juan scoffed at his son. “¿No puedes contener tus deseos?” Tito grinned, kept pulling his meat. “Podría. Elijo no hacerlo.” ‘I don’t need to justify my choice to not hold back.’ He’d meant every word.

When at last Marco had finished locking each one of them down, three out of the seven girls were lined up along two adjoining walls, locked tight, unable to move a foot, hand, arm or head. Not even to twist their neck enough to cast a side glance at the girl standing next to them.

Three girls faced the wall, each neck ring locked to a steel bar jutting straight out, keeping their heads a full twelve inches from the wall. The other four stood with their backs to the wall but the same steel bars keeping their heads twelve inches out from the wall’s surface.

Because of their varied heights, to meet the O-Rings attached to the wall, two of the new slaves had their wrists locked nearest their waist but unable to touch it. Another two both wrists locked at shoulders height, and finally, the last three had their arms spread wide, stretched high above their heads.

It was a tantalizing sight to the two men watching, Tito so aroused at the sight he shot his load high into the air, then called Rosa to come clean the mess he’d made.

“Use your tongue to lap it up. My jeans are clean and so is the floor if you did your job correctly this morning. Don’t let a bit of my seed go to waste.”

The girls were not gagged but given strict command to not speak unless told to do so. ‘Not one sound,’ had been the exact words used with the threat of punishment if one disobeyed.

When Marco finished, he began to point out attributes he thought most appealing for the tastes first of Juan, then Tito. “This one is called Nina, a virgin when first found inside a car with a flat tire. Two others were with her but were not part of our invoice receipt.”

A quiet sob was heard then, mostly ignored until Juan sent Marco a penetrating stare.

Responding to an order not voiced, Marco flicked his wrist, poised his whip to come down, paused just long enough to ensure all waited with bated breath to see if the whip would find its target. Another flash of arm brought a thin strip of leather down on Nina’s left breast, cutting a thin line down, then around the nipple leaving behind a trail of blood, proof the leather strip was sharp as a razor.

Nina gasped. While those around her echoed soft hisses, standing now on legs that had begun to tremble. Marco rested the end of the whip between her thighs, left the very front tip of it stabbing the wall behind her.

“Do you see where my whip rests for this moment I am taking to decide where it shall strike next?”

Nina’s eyes narrowed to afford a glance down to her pussy. “No Master.” The voice was tight with unshed tears. “But I can feel it.”

“The next lash you receive will slice across this pretty pink island running down the center of your open canyon. You will not be able to stop it because you can’t pull your ankles together. It will slice right through that tender piece of dangling skin and you will have no way to stop it.”

Nina visibly gulped. “I understand, Master. I’m just so alone. I feel forgotten. Worried about the friends who were in that car with me.”

Marco’s features thinned with the strangest expression she thought signaled a cold lack of compassion.

“Have you ever owned a puppy, Nina?” “Yes. Ginger. I miss her.” Hope flamed. He asked about a puppy. Perhaps he did own a compassionate heart.

Marco smirked. “Did you pick her from a shelter? Take her home with you that day?”

“Not from a shelter. A home near our house, the puppies advertised on facebook.” Nina’s heart sank, certain she knew where this line of questions would lead.

“How many puppies were left when you chose Ginger and carried her away?”

“Three? Seven? I really do not remember.” “Did you consider your puppy might be frightened? Ripped away from all she knew?”

“Yes. I held her close, let her sleep with me.”

“Well, today, Nina, YOU are the puppy, but unfortunately for you, we are not so kind. You will be lucky to have a bed at all, and if you should you find you are snuggled in a comfortable bed it won’t be to sleep. It will be to offer one of us the use of any hole of your body we wish to use.”

The whip began to trail a path around her labia. “Any one… perhaps all three at once, will be open to our use… our hard cocks, our dildos and butt plugs, and yes, we’ll fuck you with our whips. We’ll make you kiss and lick, even suck on the leather that has just whipped you, make you show gratitude for lashes just received with your words and your tongue.”

Marco stopped speaking, moved the whip just enough to push the thick bulb at the front end right past the tight muscle that kept her asshole closed, a surprise attack that only two men in the room didn’t think an overboard reaction to such a small mistake.

[embed]List: Angels of Devils Gorillas | Curated by Evelyn Gaede | Medium Angels of Devils Gorillas · Sturgis, wrong turn lands 2 cousins on the wrong road · 63 stories on Mediummedium.com

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