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Stolen Election: A Moral(es) Tale
- Thread starter Barbaria1
- Start date
'fucked her.... conductor'.
Yep.
That must be worth a prize!
(Though not in the Sunday School poetry competition, perhaps
)
Last edited:
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Geeze, there are presidents for whom the greatest pleasure they can get in their office, is a Diet Coke.
20
San Rafael induction and Interrogation Center, Block C, Friday, February 21, 10:15 pm.
“That’ll do nicely for now, Rodriguez,” said Perez, gazing with satisfaction at the large mechanical torture rack on which the nude bodies of his three prisoners were mounted side-by-side … Bárbara Morales in the middle with Zúñiga to her immediate right and Emily, the recently captured American special ops officer, to her left.
The rack had been partially tilted at an upwards angle, and its mechanically moveable parts adjusted to display its victims spreadeagled, as though they were butterflies pinned to a collector’s mounting board. The bodily strain they were feeling in their crucified-like positioning evident in their strained facial expressions.
“You don’t want to stretch them out some more, Capitán Perez?”
“No, Rodriguez, that’ll do for now. I’ve received word that Presidente Mendoza plans to be here early tomorrow morning to observe the final breaking and execution of Señorita Morales. We’ve been ordered to save those moments of pleasure for him. So, we let them suffer through the night as they are, and then let the mechanical rack bring them to the breaking point shortly after he arrives..”
“Yessir!”
“But if you are eager to do something, I suggest you go about making the necessary arrangements for executing all three in the morning.”
“No trial?”
“Word is that Mendoza sees no need for one at this point. Seems the Justice Ministry is in some disarray.”
“I see. In that case I’d better see to having a firing squad on call at a moment’s notice tomorrow.”
“Good! See that you do. And while you’re at it, rig the gallows for three just in case Mendoza decides he’d like to see Morales dance. He did that years ago when he had her mother executed.
“Alright, consider it done. Should I assign a watch in here tonight?”
“No, these three are not going anywhere. Let them talk among themselves and contemplate the end of their lives. Set the rack controls to periodically treat them to a bit of ‘stretch and release’ before you leave. And remember to lock the door on your way out.”
****************
The Presidential Palace, Friday, February 21, 10:50 pm.
Mendoza sat upright in the middle of the oversized Presidential bed, propped up against two pillows, smoking a Cuban Cohiba. With his free hand he played with Elvira Gomez’s thick tumescently erect nipples. Teasingly tweaking and rolling them between finger and thumb as she lay naked on her back alongside him, eyes half-shut and mouth half-parted in pleasure. His secretary, Maria Sanchez, knelt to his left, positioned so as to lean over him to suck his swollen cock, which she was busily engaged in expertly doing.
“Slow down, Maria. Take it all the way in! That’s right. Good girl! Easy now, bring me to the brink, but not beyond. Elvira over here is eager … aren’t you dear … to feel me inside her again!”
***********
San Rafael Induction and Interrogation Center, Block C, Saturday, February 22, 12:15 am.
Bárbara moaned as she shifted position in so far as her pinioned spreadeagled arms and legs allowed. Rodriguez and his crew had been gone for an hour or more, and in the absence of their taunts and constant proddings and poking she had slipped into an exhausted stupor. But now fully conscious, she tried to take rational stock of the situation.
The prospects of coming out of this alive seemed bleak … actually worse than that …nil!
Her thoughts raced back to when she’d witnessed poor Maria Sanchez, her former campaign press secretary, led to a post before a firing squad and shot while staring without expression at Bárbara. And then there’d been Jack and Madame Rosa led out to a similar fate just as she’d been escorted away. What a horrible way to die!
She turned to her right. Zúñiga too was awake. Their eyes met. He’d been looking at her.
“I’m sorry for you, Morales, sorry for the way this has turned out,” he uttered in a low voice.
She nodded. “I’m sorry too. What you tried to do was patriotic and daring … you’re a very brave man.”
“It might have worked. If only that car hadn’t been driven off! Such bad luck!”
“Hey you two! I’m here too.” snapped Emily.
“Yes, sorry. I’m afraid, like Zúñiga here, that I’m responsible for drawing you into this dreadful mess.”
“Comes with the territory, Morales. It was my job and duty to try to get you out of the country.”
“Who are you?
“Emily Jackson, SAC\SOC. Code name: ‘Dark Shadow’.
“Fitting code name!” Bárbara remarked, eyeing the young black woman’s well-toned athletic figure. “Love your hair!”
“Thanks.”
“Tell me … I should say we … me and Zúñiga here … do you think there’s any hope for us? I mean I trust you must not have been operating alone.”
“There were two others, but they were under orders to get away should anything happen to me. I suspect they’re lying low by now somewhere far from here and will not be coming to our rescue. But there is one very slim hope … that the cavalry might come riding in.”
“The cavalry?”
“Yeah, our only hope is that someone high up decides we’re worthy of a Special Ops military rescue mission. Don’t get your hopes up, though. It would be a political decision that would take real guts for someone ‘up there’ to decide to risk!”
At that moment the rack’s pre-programmed machinery suddenly came to life … clanking, whiring and whining as gears and screw shafts began activating the parts designed to exert strain on limbs and tendons.
“Owww! Shit! It’s doing it again!” cried Bárbara. “The damn rack has decided it’s time to stretch us again!”
**************
On board the US Navy's 4th Fleet helicopter assault carrier, the USS Iwo Jima, somewhere in the Caribbean, Friday, February 21, 11:45 pm.
Lieutenant Commander ‘Biff’ Halsey … great grandson of the famous WWII admiral … took a drag on his cigarette and shifted position on his chair. Too keyed up to take the advice he’d imparted to his Navy Seals on the eve of what had been unofficially and tastelessly dubbed by the team ‘Operation Morales Snatch’, he opened the cover of the operational plan. To look once again at the attached ‘operational recognition’ photos of Bárbara Morales, SAC\SOC Operative ‘Dark Shadow,’’ and Nueva Valencia security officer Coronel Francisco Zúñiga. And to search for any hidden operational flaw.
His gaze lingered an extra few moments over the photo of Bárbara Morales to admire her beauty and intent expression, before plunging into yet another thorough re-reading of the operational plan.
TBC
San Rafael induction and Interrogation Center, Block C, Friday, February 21, 10:15 pm.
“That’ll do nicely for now, Rodriguez,” said Perez, gazing with satisfaction at the large mechanical torture rack on which the nude bodies of his three prisoners were mounted side-by-side … Bárbara Morales in the middle with Zúñiga to her immediate right and Emily, the recently captured American special ops officer, to her left.
The rack had been partially tilted at an upwards angle, and its mechanically moveable parts adjusted to display its victims spreadeagled, as though they were butterflies pinned to a collector’s mounting board. The bodily strain they were feeling in their crucified-like positioning evident in their strained facial expressions.
“You don’t want to stretch them out some more, Capitán Perez?”
“No, Rodriguez, that’ll do for now. I’ve received word that Presidente Mendoza plans to be here early tomorrow morning to observe the final breaking and execution of Señorita Morales. We’ve been ordered to save those moments of pleasure for him. So, we let them suffer through the night as they are, and then let the mechanical rack bring them to the breaking point shortly after he arrives..”
“Yessir!”
“But if you are eager to do something, I suggest you go about making the necessary arrangements for executing all three in the morning.”
“No trial?”
“Word is that Mendoza sees no need for one at this point. Seems the Justice Ministry is in some disarray.”
“I see. In that case I’d better see to having a firing squad on call at a moment’s notice tomorrow.”
“Good! See that you do. And while you’re at it, rig the gallows for three just in case Mendoza decides he’d like to see Morales dance. He did that years ago when he had her mother executed.
“Alright, consider it done. Should I assign a watch in here tonight?”
“No, these three are not going anywhere. Let them talk among themselves and contemplate the end of their lives. Set the rack controls to periodically treat them to a bit of ‘stretch and release’ before you leave. And remember to lock the door on your way out.”
****************
The Presidential Palace, Friday, February 21, 10:50 pm.
Mendoza sat upright in the middle of the oversized Presidential bed, propped up against two pillows, smoking a Cuban Cohiba. With his free hand he played with Elvira Gomez’s thick tumescently erect nipples. Teasingly tweaking and rolling them between finger and thumb as she lay naked on her back alongside him, eyes half-shut and mouth half-parted in pleasure. His secretary, Maria Sanchez, knelt to his left, positioned so as to lean over him to suck his swollen cock, which she was busily engaged in expertly doing.
“Slow down, Maria. Take it all the way in! That’s right. Good girl! Easy now, bring me to the brink, but not beyond. Elvira over here is eager … aren’t you dear … to feel me inside her again!”
***********
San Rafael Induction and Interrogation Center, Block C, Saturday, February 22, 12:15 am.
Bárbara moaned as she shifted position in so far as her pinioned spreadeagled arms and legs allowed. Rodriguez and his crew had been gone for an hour or more, and in the absence of their taunts and constant proddings and poking she had slipped into an exhausted stupor. But now fully conscious, she tried to take rational stock of the situation.
The prospects of coming out of this alive seemed bleak … actually worse than that …nil!
Her thoughts raced back to when she’d witnessed poor Maria Sanchez, her former campaign press secretary, led to a post before a firing squad and shot while staring without expression at Bárbara. And then there’d been Jack and Madame Rosa led out to a similar fate just as she’d been escorted away. What a horrible way to die!
She turned to her right. Zúñiga too was awake. Their eyes met. He’d been looking at her.
“I’m sorry for you, Morales, sorry for the way this has turned out,” he uttered in a low voice.
She nodded. “I’m sorry too. What you tried to do was patriotic and daring … you’re a very brave man.”
“It might have worked. If only that car hadn’t been driven off! Such bad luck!”
“Hey you two! I’m here too.” snapped Emily.
“Yes, sorry. I’m afraid, like Zúñiga here, that I’m responsible for drawing you into this dreadful mess.”
“Comes with the territory, Morales. It was my job and duty to try to get you out of the country.”
“Who are you?
“Emily Jackson, SAC\SOC. Code name: ‘Dark Shadow’.
“Fitting code name!” Bárbara remarked, eyeing the young black woman’s well-toned athletic figure. “Love your hair!”
“Thanks.”
“Tell me … I should say we … me and Zúñiga here … do you think there’s any hope for us? I mean I trust you must not have been operating alone.”
“There were two others, but they were under orders to get away should anything happen to me. I suspect they’re lying low by now somewhere far from here and will not be coming to our rescue. But there is one very slim hope … that the cavalry might come riding in.”
“The cavalry?”
“Yeah, our only hope is that someone high up decides we’re worthy of a Special Ops military rescue mission. Don’t get your hopes up, though. It would be a political decision that would take real guts for someone ‘up there’ to decide to risk!”
At that moment the rack’s pre-programmed machinery suddenly came to life … clanking, whiring and whining as gears and screw shafts began activating the parts designed to exert strain on limbs and tendons.
“Owww! Shit! It’s doing it again!” cried Bárbara. “The damn rack has decided it’s time to stretch us again!”
**************
On board the US Navy's 4th Fleet helicopter assault carrier, the USS Iwo Jima, somewhere in the Caribbean, Friday, February 21, 11:45 pm.
Lieutenant Commander ‘Biff’ Halsey … great grandson of the famous WWII admiral … took a drag on his cigarette and shifted position on his chair. Too keyed up to take the advice he’d imparted to his Navy Seals on the eve of what had been unofficially and tastelessly dubbed by the team ‘Operation Morales Snatch’, he opened the cover of the operational plan. To look once again at the attached ‘operational recognition’ photos of Bárbara Morales, SAC\SOC Operative ‘Dark Shadow,’’ and Nueva Valencia security officer Coronel Francisco Zúñiga. And to search for any hidden operational flaw.
His gaze lingered an extra few moments over the photo of Bárbara Morales to admire her beauty and intent expression, before plunging into yet another thorough re-reading of the operational plan.
TBC
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Zelda
Executioner
Every sentence I read has me more and more on edge. I know I need to be patient and enjoy the ride, but in my mind, I already know how I want this all to end, even if all the ends I do picture would not be possible. Just have to keep calm and read on.
The fact that that bastard murdered her parents and may end up murdering the MC pisses me off to no end. He really is a rat bastard.
The fact that that bastard murdered her parents and may end up murdering the MC pisses me off to no end. He really is a rat bastard.
ledoux
Governor
Oh God! Barb, as your Tumescence Anonymous sponsor, I'm utterly dismayed you didn't call me before backsliding. Now, you're gonna have to return your one year pin!
On the other hand, a positive note is that I get to restart the special rehabilitation program I designed just for you. So, we're back to square one.
Zelda
Executioner
I'm just surprised at this point that the antagonist is not choosing a slower death for our remaining protagonists. They mentioned firing squad, but also a hanging, so I am not sure what they will go with.
I am interested in this fleet that is out there and if they will be successful or not. What of that guy in New York? I am wondering what role he will play. At the absolute minimum, if more good people have to die, I hope that bastard in charge of all this gets his as well. EDIT: I wanted to say that I really like the blue text. It is much easier on my eyes considering my vision issues.
I am interested in this fleet that is out there and if they will be successful or not. What of that guy in New York? I am wondering what role he will play. At the absolute minimum, if more good people have to die, I hope that bastard in charge of all this gets his as well. EDIT: I wanted to say that I really like the blue text. It is much easier on my eyes considering my vision issues.
Tree votes they hang the trio. Zuniga should have his useless pecker swaying in the breeze while he is hanged. Emily Jackson would look good twisting from her noose. And Barbara Morales deserves to hang for her wild political scheme.
Besides, she has as much chance of getting out of this as she does getting laid by Zuniga next to her...