Getting some winter sun
Is nice and surely fun
Sorry be not
Time we’ve got
My story’s far from done
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Stolen Election: A Moral(es) Tale
- Thread starter Barbaria1
- Start date
Getting some winter sun
Is nice and surely fun
Sorry be not
Time we’ve got
My story’s far from done
8.
On the road to San Rafael Induction and Interrogation Center, Wednesday, February 19, 10:45 am.
It took a little time for Bárbara to realize that she was not about to be gang raped on the floor of the police van. She didn’t know what had been said to Perez through his earpiece, but she was grateful that whatever it was seemed to have deterred him and his two subordinates from doing what they had intended.
And as he had requested, one of the other two had taken the trouble to slip her thong back into place. After which, she’d been left alone to her thoughts as the van continued on its way to San Rafael.
She’d not been gagged, and she wondered whether she could, or even whether it was wise at that point to try to engage them.
Eventually she decided to speak up. “Please. It’s terribly uncomfortable lying here on the hard floor like this. Perhaps I could be seated on one of the side benches like the rest of you?”
Perez stared at her, his expression hard and cold. His thoughts at that moment had been with his five subordinates who had died during the night back at the Burdel Rosa Rojas. Gunned down in cold blood, presumably by Bárbara and her American muscle. Leaning forward, he delivered his response. He spat on her face.
The rest of the ride to San Rafael passed in silence, save for her groans and curses as she was jostled and bounced about once the van left the highway for the unpaved and rutted back-country secondary road leading to the isolated site of the San Rafael facility.
As soon as the van had arrived at their destination and braked to a stop, the rear doors were flung open by a pair of uniformed men, who quickly snapped to attention at the sight of Capitán de Policía’ Sergio Perez peering out at them.
“Get her out and inside!” he snapped, his finger pointed at Bárbara.
They saluted and proceeded to drag her by the ankles to the edge of the van decking before taking hold of her shoulders and forcing her into a sitting position, with legs over the side.
“Wait!” snapped Perez, having spotted her missing shoe lying under a bench.
He got down on his hands and knees to fish it out and toss it to one of the San Rafael officers. “She’ll be needing this. Now take her inside and wait for me there, I’ll be along in a few minutes.”
*************
Palacio Presidencial, Wednesday, February 19, 10:50 am
She straightened up slowly to stand naked before him. Her clothing lay in a heap at her feet, the last item … her panties … now added to the rest. With one hand she modestly covered her pudendum, while ineffectively attempting to shield her large breasts from his intense gaze with the other. Humiliated and embarrassed, a tear started to roll down her cheek.
The intercom on his desk buzzed.
“Yes, Señorita Valdez, what is it?” he demanded, irritation in the tone of his voice.
“It’s Capitán de Policía’ Sergio Perez, calling in from San Rafael.”
“Alright, I’ll take the call. Put him on.”
“Capitán de Policía’ Sergio Perez, reporting in from San Rafael as promised! All detainees have been delivered to the facility here without incident!”
“Excellent! Good work, Perez. Now, I want you to see to expediting the intake and booking of Bárbara Morales. Cabrera, over at Justice, needs mug shots delivered to him, as soon as possible, for the afternoon press release he’s preparing.”
“Right, I’m on her .. er … I mean on it. What of the other bordello raid detainees who arrived earlier by bus? Any rush there?”
“No, let them languish. Uncertainty and fear is good for them.”
“Right! And, sorry to bring it up again, but what about Gomez, your Minister of Commerce? Should we be releasing him?”
“No, hold him for a while longer. Just so happens Gomez’s wife is here with me now .. come to solicit his release. She and I are yet in the process of … uh … negotiating the arrangements given the politically delicate situation her husband has potentially put me in.”
“I see,” replied Perez, after a moment’s hesitation even though he didn’t see at all, but half-suspected nonetheless.
“Get to it now Perez, and report back soon as Morales has been processed.”
“Yessir!”
As soon as the call ended, Elvira Gomez took a hesitant step forward and dropped her hands to her sides. “Alright, let’s get on with it, then, shall we? What exactly am I required to do to secure the release of my husband?”
“There’s absolutely no hurry, my dear Elvira, perhaps we’ll share a drink together first?” he responded, dodging her question and removing two shot glasses from a desk drawer along with a bottle of Aguardiente Antioqueño.
“If I must.”
“You must. Now join me in a toast to your husband’s continued good health!”
“And to yours, Mendoza … now, again, what exactly do you desire of me?”
“Why, I desire all of you, my dear. Let’s not hold anything back, and let’s not be in such a rush. We need to savor this like a good wine. For starters you can begin by standing right where you are and using your fingers and imagination to get yourself wet while I watch and enjoy a cigar. Then you’ll get down on your knees in front of me for a spell, after which we’ll finish our little business arrangement over there on the office couch.”
She absolutely hated demeaning herself in the way she was about to do … in order to get her cheating, no good husband back. But in her mind, the alternative was worse. It would mean the loss of status, privilege and wealth that his ministerial appointment in Mendoza’s corrupt regime had brought to her. It wasn’t that she was unaware of her husband’s infidelities. It was his arrest and the dangers it posed that stood behind her need to do whatever Mendoza demanded of her.
“And my husband shall then go free and continue in his post as your Minister of Finance?”
He paused to light up his ‘Cohiba Behike 56’ and allow the question to hang in the air, pregnant and unanswered, before eventually replying, “Depends, my dear Elvira, on the quality of your coming performance here. Speaking of which, I suggest you get on with it now. Get those nicely manicured fingers of yours busy down there. Don’t be shy. I’m sure you know how!”
**********
Bárbara was forced to stand for several minutes, sandwiched between her two uniformed escorts in the entryway of the San Rafael Detention and Interrogation Center while Perez finished his call out in the van.
“Alright!” he said breezily as he eventually rejoined them. “Our orders are to move Señorita Morales through ‘intake and booking’ with all possible speed. So, gentlemen … if you will ….”
They offered sloppy salutes, gripped her firmly by the elbows, spun her about led her off.
Perez followed in their wake, eyes on the tantalizing sway of her silver-thonged hips and ass as she was hustled along on her high-heeled silvery shoes.
Her mind was racing, imagining what to expect next. Like nearly everyone in the country, she’d heard the rumors and stories about San Rafael … all of them bad. She recalled the time fourteen years earlier when her father had been taken there, and shortly after that her mother. Never to return. And now it was her turn!
She thought too about Jack Smith and Madame Rojas, and of the innocents who had just happened to be present at Madame Roja’s establishment the previous night, all of whom were presumably already incarcerated somewhere inside the sprawling complex.
In due time she and her escorts arrived before a double-doored entrance marked with a sign that read, “Zona de llegadas” … neatly lettered and innocuous looking, almost as though announcing the entrance to an airport arrivals hall. One of her handlers flashed an electronic card and the twin doors swung open.
Inside was a large space, with a desk at the far end manned by two officers servicing a long line of waiting detainees.
“Prioridad. Hazte a un lado!” shouted one her handlers and those waiting in line were hastily shoved aside by other officers, to make way for Bárbara as she was propelled forward to the desk.
As she passed them by, she recognized some of the detainees as women and men she knew, many of them activists and supporters of her ill-fated presidential campaign bid … some fully dressed, some in their night clothes, presumably arrested and taken from their homes during the night.
They recognized her as well. Hands flew to mouths. Some gaped, others turned away at the sight of her … Bárbara Morales … only yesterday the Frente Liberal Democrático Party candidate for the office of President of the República de Nueva Valencia, being escorted past them, nearly naked, to be processed through what all present easily might have imagined to be the Gates of Hell.
TBC
On the road to San Rafael Induction and Interrogation Center, Wednesday, February 19, 10:45 am.
It took a little time for Bárbara to realize that she was not about to be gang raped on the floor of the police van. She didn’t know what had been said to Perez through his earpiece, but she was grateful that whatever it was seemed to have deterred him and his two subordinates from doing what they had intended.
And as he had requested, one of the other two had taken the trouble to slip her thong back into place. After which, she’d been left alone to her thoughts as the van continued on its way to San Rafael.
She’d not been gagged, and she wondered whether she could, or even whether it was wise at that point to try to engage them.
Eventually she decided to speak up. “Please. It’s terribly uncomfortable lying here on the hard floor like this. Perhaps I could be seated on one of the side benches like the rest of you?”
Perez stared at her, his expression hard and cold. His thoughts at that moment had been with his five subordinates who had died during the night back at the Burdel Rosa Rojas. Gunned down in cold blood, presumably by Bárbara and her American muscle. Leaning forward, he delivered his response. He spat on her face.
The rest of the ride to San Rafael passed in silence, save for her groans and curses as she was jostled and bounced about once the van left the highway for the unpaved and rutted back-country secondary road leading to the isolated site of the San Rafael facility.
As soon as the van had arrived at their destination and braked to a stop, the rear doors were flung open by a pair of uniformed men, who quickly snapped to attention at the sight of Capitán de Policía’ Sergio Perez peering out at them.
“Get her out and inside!” he snapped, his finger pointed at Bárbara.
They saluted and proceeded to drag her by the ankles to the edge of the van decking before taking hold of her shoulders and forcing her into a sitting position, with legs over the side.
“Wait!” snapped Perez, having spotted her missing shoe lying under a bench.
He got down on his hands and knees to fish it out and toss it to one of the San Rafael officers. “She’ll be needing this. Now take her inside and wait for me there, I’ll be along in a few minutes.”
*************
Palacio Presidencial, Wednesday, February 19, 10:50 am
She straightened up slowly to stand naked before him. Her clothing lay in a heap at her feet, the last item … her panties … now added to the rest. With one hand she modestly covered her pudendum, while ineffectively attempting to shield her large breasts from his intense gaze with the other. Humiliated and embarrassed, a tear started to roll down her cheek.
The intercom on his desk buzzed.
“Yes, Señorita Valdez, what is it?” he demanded, irritation in the tone of his voice.
“It’s Capitán de Policía’ Sergio Perez, calling in from San Rafael.”
“Alright, I’ll take the call. Put him on.”
“Capitán de Policía’ Sergio Perez, reporting in from San Rafael as promised! All detainees have been delivered to the facility here without incident!”
“Excellent! Good work, Perez. Now, I want you to see to expediting the intake and booking of Bárbara Morales. Cabrera, over at Justice, needs mug shots delivered to him, as soon as possible, for the afternoon press release he’s preparing.”
“Right, I’m on her .. er … I mean on it. What of the other bordello raid detainees who arrived earlier by bus? Any rush there?”
“No, let them languish. Uncertainty and fear is good for them.”
“Right! And, sorry to bring it up again, but what about Gomez, your Minister of Commerce? Should we be releasing him?”
“No, hold him for a while longer. Just so happens Gomez’s wife is here with me now .. come to solicit his release. She and I are yet in the process of … uh … negotiating the arrangements given the politically delicate situation her husband has potentially put me in.”
“I see,” replied Perez, after a moment’s hesitation even though he didn’t see at all, but half-suspected nonetheless.
“Get to it now Perez, and report back soon as Morales has been processed.”
“Yessir!”
As soon as the call ended, Elvira Gomez took a hesitant step forward and dropped her hands to her sides. “Alright, let’s get on with it, then, shall we? What exactly am I required to do to secure the release of my husband?”
“There’s absolutely no hurry, my dear Elvira, perhaps we’ll share a drink together first?” he responded, dodging her question and removing two shot glasses from a desk drawer along with a bottle of Aguardiente Antioqueño.
“If I must.”
“You must. Now join me in a toast to your husband’s continued good health!”
“And to yours, Mendoza … now, again, what exactly do you desire of me?”
“Why, I desire all of you, my dear. Let’s not hold anything back, and let’s not be in such a rush. We need to savor this like a good wine. For starters you can begin by standing right where you are and using your fingers and imagination to get yourself wet while I watch and enjoy a cigar. Then you’ll get down on your knees in front of me for a spell, after which we’ll finish our little business arrangement over there on the office couch.”
She absolutely hated demeaning herself in the way she was about to do … in order to get her cheating, no good husband back. But in her mind, the alternative was worse. It would mean the loss of status, privilege and wealth that his ministerial appointment in Mendoza’s corrupt regime had brought to her. It wasn’t that she was unaware of her husband’s infidelities. It was his arrest and the dangers it posed that stood behind her need to do whatever Mendoza demanded of her.
“And my husband shall then go free and continue in his post as your Minister of Finance?”
He paused to light up his ‘Cohiba Behike 56’ and allow the question to hang in the air, pregnant and unanswered, before eventually replying, “Depends, my dear Elvira, on the quality of your coming performance here. Speaking of which, I suggest you get on with it now. Get those nicely manicured fingers of yours busy down there. Don’t be shy. I’m sure you know how!”
**********
Bárbara was forced to stand for several minutes, sandwiched between her two uniformed escorts in the entryway of the San Rafael Detention and Interrogation Center while Perez finished his call out in the van.
“Alright!” he said breezily as he eventually rejoined them. “Our orders are to move Señorita Morales through ‘intake and booking’ with all possible speed. So, gentlemen … if you will ….”
They offered sloppy salutes, gripped her firmly by the elbows, spun her about led her off.
Perez followed in their wake, eyes on the tantalizing sway of her silver-thonged hips and ass as she was hustled along on her high-heeled silvery shoes.
Her mind was racing, imagining what to expect next. Like nearly everyone in the country, she’d heard the rumors and stories about San Rafael … all of them bad. She recalled the time fourteen years earlier when her father had been taken there, and shortly after that her mother. Never to return. And now it was her turn!
She thought too about Jack Smith and Madame Rojas, and of the innocents who had just happened to be present at Madame Roja’s establishment the previous night, all of whom were presumably already incarcerated somewhere inside the sprawling complex.
In due time she and her escorts arrived before a double-doored entrance marked with a sign that read, “Zona de llegadas” … neatly lettered and innocuous looking, almost as though announcing the entrance to an airport arrivals hall. One of her handlers flashed an electronic card and the twin doors swung open.
Inside was a large space, with a desk at the far end manned by two officers servicing a long line of waiting detainees.
“Prioridad. Hazte a un lado!” shouted one her handlers and those waiting in line were hastily shoved aside by other officers, to make way for Bárbara as she was propelled forward to the desk.
As she passed them by, she recognized some of the detainees as women and men she knew, many of them activists and supporters of her ill-fated presidential campaign bid … some fully dressed, some in their night clothes, presumably arrested and taken from their homes during the night.
They recognized her as well. Hands flew to mouths. Some gaped, others turned away at the sight of her … Bárbara Morales … only yesterday the Frente Liberal Democrático Party candidate for the office of President of the República de Nueva Valencia, being escorted past them, nearly naked, to be processed through what all present easily might have imagined to be the Gates of Hell.
TBC
ledoux
Governor
Wow Barb. Is this a record? A member displaying her boobs in two brand-new stories running at the same time? Oh wait, this is not really you is it? It's "Barbara Morales." Right, we believe that.
But in the other story, it's more clear cut:
And a bit more "inclusive," so to speak.
A "twofer" with @Eulalia
But in the other story, it's more clear cut:
And a bit more "inclusive," so to speak.A "twofer" with @Eulalia