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Chapter 33 San Juan Express
Stacy drove halfway into the garage, stopping behind a late model Infinity SUV. When she opened the car door and swung her legs out, she found herself looking straight at a young Hispanic male removing a front tire from a Lexus Solara. He ceased work to openly stare between Stacy’s parted legs. Then he made some sort of animal cry before he unleashed a torrent of Spanish to his co-workers. They responded with hoots and catcalls. The entire garage ceased work to look at the new arrival.
“It’ll make the deal go down easier if you look hot,” was how Mike put it when they were discussing her trip in the shower after their lovemaking. Stacy had lathered up Mike’s cock and balls. Her hands were moving up and down the slippery shaft while he told her exactly what he expected. The warm water combined with the aromatic French bath soap Mike preferred produced the usual result. In spite of the fact they’d already made love three times, his cock was rock hard.
“Fuck me, Mike,” pleaded Stacy as she jumped in the air wrapping her arms and legs around him.
“Just can’t get enough of my cock, can you, Slut?” said Mike holding her by her buttocks.
“Never,” said Stacy before kissing him passionately.
Holding on to his shoulders she raised herself up so Mike could guide his cock into her vagina. Stacy groaned with pleasure as she lowered herself savoring the feeling of his hardness slowly sliding in her. Standing erect, he held her against the tiled wall as they fucked.
“Why does it matter what I wear,” asked Stacy later when they were getting dressed?
“These are made guys. They’ll judge me by how you look. Besides, they appreciate a good-looking woman. Never forget when you’re with me or on Posse business, you’re representing Mike Cabreeze so it’s important you look terrific. Wear something sexy but classy and expensive,” said Mike.
As a result, Stacy was dressed in what she referred to as one of her rich slut outfits. The clinging ‘too tight for decent folk’ knit skirt hugged her rear. The hem reached mid thigh allowing glimpses of the lace bands of her stay up hose. An uplift bra raised the top of her breasts above the scooped out neckline of an equally tight knit sweater. An exposed quarter inch of the lace bra enhanced the effect. An expensive pair of Gucci sunglasses covered her eyes. Skirt and sweater were a matching powder blue made from first quality Scottish cashmere. Silver high heel sandals elevated her four inches. Matching earrings, rings, and a diamond bracelet Stacy had retrieved from her safety deposit box containing Grandmother Todd’s heirloom jewelry completed the look.
“You definitely look like a mobster’s whore but a very well dressed one,” was Portia’s remark when she kissed Stacy good-bye that morning.
Now that crotch-grabbing obscenity-shouting Hispanics wearing greased stained coveralls surrounded her, she wondered if loose jeans, granny glasses, and a baggy sweatshirt would have been a wiser choice. Still, she had no other choice than to brazen it out.
“Like what you see,” asked a smiling Stacy spreading her legs wider to give him a clear shot at the narrow band of cream-colored lace covering her sex?
“Ah, chica, you looking for some of this,” said the man grabbing his crotch with both hands to show her the outlines of his endowment?
“Get back to work, Geraldo,” said the well-dressed man who had just arrived. “I’m Sallie, this way,” was all he said as he gestured for Stacy to follow him.
Stacy grabbed the Halliburton case off the passenger seat and followed the man to the back of the garage. Determined not to look scared or intimidated, Stacy swung her hips and smiled as she followed. Her journey was accompanied by loud suggestions by the mechanics as to what they would like to do to her. Unfortunately for Stacy they were spoken in street Spanish, not the Castilian, she had learned in school.
“In there’s the john,” said Sallie pointing to the open door of a tiny restroom at the back of the shop chop. It contained a sink and filthy commode. Grease stains covered the wall and fixtures. It was obviously the one used by the mechanics.
Stacy considered and rejected the idea of demanding to go the same restroom Sallie used. He’d probably say no and her bladder was about to explode. She stepped inside the room reaching back to close the door.
“Can’t let you out of my sight,” said Sallie stopping the door with his foot.
“I need some privacy,” said Stacy.
“I got my orders,” said Sallie conveying his decision was final.
“You get off on watching women pee, Sallie,” asked Stacy pulling up her skirt then sliding her panty down to her knees before she squatted down, hovering, trying not to touch the filthy seat.
“Yeah, it can be hot,” said Sallie leaning against the doorjamb cleaning his nails with a file.
Relax and take a deep breath thought Stacy as she closed her eyes. It took a few seconds for Stacy to start her flow but it finally came as a loud spray whose noise and smell filled the tiny room.
“You really did have to go,” said Sallie as Stacy grabbed a couple of squares of tissue to wipe her sex.
“Five hour drive and I didn’t stop,” said Stacy.
“Pull your sweater up,” said Sallie.
“Look, I’m here to execute a business transaction not let you play with my tits,” said Stacy.
“I’ve got to check you for a wire. Your tits don’t interest me,” said Sallie.
“Bullshit, you know you’re dying to see them, A wire, what’s that?” asked an uncomprehending Stacy.
“Microphone, dummy, maybe the Feds are outside listening to you piss. Arms over your head and don’t move,” said Sallie.
“Enjoy yourself,” said Stacy raising her arms like she was in an old cowboy movie. Her skirt was still bunched up at her waist and her panty was down at her ankles. The workers in the closest bay had stopped to watch the scene in the restroom play out.
Sallie stepped close and pushed her sweater up over her sheer bra.
“Nice, these must keep Mike Cabreeze’s hands warm on those cold Boston nights,” said Sallie as he slipped his hand inside Stacy’s bra.
“When Mike touches them, they get so hot he has to wear oven mitts,” said Stacy.
“Your nipples are hard. Sallie watching you piss get you worked up?” asked Sallie reaching down with his other hand to feel Stacy’s vagina. His fingers parted her labia, probing her opening. “You’re wet too. That’s not surprising. Cabreeze likes them slutty.”
“That’s piss on your fingers. I didn’t wipe that good,” said Stacy.
Sallie slowly withdrew his fingers then wiped them on Stacy’s sweater.
“Satisfied, no wire,” asked Stacy?
“Let’s go see the man,” said Sallie.
Stacy and Sallie walked through the back of the body shop, crossed the alley, stepping over garbage and entered the back of the building directly behind AAA Automotive. Stacy found herself in a long hallway with a row of doors on one side. Signs advertised, “Peep Booths $1, Totally Nude Girls.”
Men were going in and out of the doors. Stacy caught a brief look at the interior of one booth. There was a small bench, a machine to insert dollars, and a Plexiglas window to a small stage where three women were dancing naked.
“You a dancer,” asked Sallie as they walked down the hall?
“No, still in school,” said Stacy ignoring the elderly man who put his hand on her butt as she walked by.
“What you studying,” asked Sallie?
“Law, I’m actually pre-law.”
“Law, maybe you’ll put me in jail some day. You let Sallie plead out.”
“I’m interested in international law.”
“American law not good enough for you,” asked Sallie?
“That’s got nothing to do with it. It’s mostly about treaties and trade,” said Stacy as they reached the end of the hall and began to climb a narrow stairwell. At the top, Stacy entered a waiting room that contained three men who watched her closely as she passed through. Bodyguards realized Stacy.
Stacy was ushered into a very large office that was so dark she worried she would trip over something as they walked toward the small silver haired man seated behind a huge desk.
“I’ll take this,” said Sallie taking the brief case from her as they walked.
Stacy saw that beside the desk were several stacked rows of closed circuits televisions. It took Stacy a minute to figure out what each screen displayed.
A camera must be hidden in the ceiling of each of the booths downstairs realized Stacy. Some of the screens showed men sitting on the bench with their pants down masturbating as they watched the girls dance. Stacy was surprised to see a girl clad only in high heels open the Plexiglas and step inside the booth with a customer. Stacy watched as the girl counted some money the man handed her then kneel down to take his cock in her mouth.
“You check her for a wire, Sallie,” asked Mr. Serrentino?
“She’s clean, Mr. Serrentino,” said Sallie.
“Come closer, doll,” said Mr. Serrentino looking Stacy over.
I can’t believe he called me doll thought Stacy as she stepped to the edge of the desk.
“Come around here, sugar,” said Mr. Serrentino gesturing to the side of his chair.
Stacy walked slowly around the desk. As she got closer, she realized Raymond Serrentino was far past normal retirement age. He has to be in his eighties maybe nineties thought Stacy.
“Nice, nice,” said Mr. Serrentino admiring Stacy’s body. “Sit, sit,” said Mr. Serrentino indicating that Stacy should sit on his knee.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Serrentino,” said Stacy gently sitting down wondering if he was too old and frail to hold her.
“Michael’s like his granddad always had an eye for a good looking dame. Michael’s granddaddy, Luigi Cabreeze, was what we used to call in my day, a Ladies Man. Michael treating you right?” asked Mr. Serrentino putting one liver-spotted hand on Stacy’s knee as he put his arm around her waist.
“Yes, he’s very good to me,” lied Stacy wondering if she would be providing Mr. Serrentino the same service he was watching on his televisions.
“Yeah, Michael’s a good boy like his grandfather. Of course, women can get you in trouble. They did Luigi. Michael tell you about his grandfather? Luigi Cabreeze was a true Sicilian,” said Mr. Serrentino.
On screen, the dancer had finished the man in an amazingly short time. As she was going back through the Plexiglas door, the man was standing cleaning his cock with a paper towel from the roll conveniently placed in each booth.
“Michael has never talked about his family, Mr. Serrentino,” said Stacy wanting to add that all they ever did was fuck but deciding it was wiser to keep her mouth shut as much as possible.
“Luigi, he was putting the stones to this chippy over in Queens. Name was Randazzo, Maria Randazzo. She was like you, a real doll but a woman of no character. A putana, you know what putana means?”
“No, but I hope to learn Italian some day,” said Stacy.
“Putana, Maria Randazzo was a whore. Her husband, Carmine, was a Sicilian from Catania. All the Randazzos were from that place. Nothing but dogs and Randazzos live there. Carmine was very angry when he discovered that Luigi had put the horns on him,” said Mr. Serrentino holding his fingers up beside his head to illustrate what was meant by horns.
“It is a terrible thing to not respect the sanctity of the sacrament of matrimony,” said Stacy deciding it was time to make some sort of comment.
“Yes, that is what I told Luigi. I said Luigi; you got whores all over the five boroughs plus your wife and bambinos in Queens. Why you screwing poor Carmine’s wife? You make trouble in the family. I tell you this Carmine he really loves his Maria even if she is a whore. He thought she was pure but he finds out from some snitch that every Tuesday when he goes to the docks to collect, Luigi comes by to see his Maria. That Tuesday, he goes and then he comes back. And what does he find? There is his Maria with Luigi’s dick in her mouth. He stands in the hall outside his bedroom with tears in his eyes and listens. Did I say that Luigi and Carmine were friends, almost like brothers?” said Mr. Serrentino.
“No, but betrayal by someone you trust makes it much worse,” said Stacy.
“Carmine, he has this Remington pistol; the Army gave him in the war. He walks in and shoots his Maria, Bang, right in her head. Her brains go all over Luigi’s face and he can’t see nothing. Then he shoots Luigi in his manhood. It is the old Sicilian way that when a man puts the horns on you; first you destroy his manhood. Then he shoots Luigi in the head,” said Mr. Serrentino holding his finger to his temple imitating a pistol.
“Poor Carmine, he is so upset. He places the barrel of the Remington in his mouth and pulls the trigger. That was the worst because the holy church teaches that suicides burn in hell everlasting. Father Espinoza refused to bury Carmine. His family had to take him to a place on the island to put him in the ground. Would you like a sweet, pretty girl?” said Mr. Serrentino reaching into a box on his desk for a brightly wrapped piece of candy.
“Yes, that would be wonderful,” said Stacy.
Stacy watched as Mr. Serrentino with trembling hands unwrapped the candy.
“Open, pretty girl,” said Mr. Serrentino holding the candy in front of Stacy’s mouth.
“Delicious,” said Stacy chewing on the overly sweet chocolate something.
“Something from the old country made with God’s real sugar not the false sugar made from corn,” said Mr. Serrentino.
“Money’s good, Mr. Serrentino,” said Sallie stepping out of the dark to place the Halliburton case on the desk.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you. It has been a pleasure meeting you but I have a long drive back,” said Stacy standing up.
“My pleasure, doll, and my best to Michael. Tell him to come see me soon,” said Mr. Serrentino.
“Sallie,” said Mr. Serrentino gesturing for him to step closer.
Stacy watched as Mr. Serrentino whispered something in Sallie’s ear. Sallie glanced at her and smiled as he listened giving Stacy an uneasy feeling.
Stacy and Sallie retraced their steps back down the busy hall and through the back of the garage.
Stacy was almost to her car when Sallie grabbed her arm and spoke. “Hold it. Mike Cabreeze asked Mr. Serrentino for a favor. He said you’ve had a problem following instructions lately,” said Sallie.
“I’m here. Aren’t I? What the fuck are you talking about?” asked Stacy.
“Geraldo, get the mattress,” said Sallie to the mechanic. “The lady here wants to thank everybody for watching her car.”
Stacy watched as the mechanic walked quickly to a nearby wall. He grabbed a filthy grease-stained mattress. He easily carried it to where Stacy and Sallie were standing then threw it down on the floor at Stacy’s feet.
“I don’t have time for this shit. I have to get back to Boston,” said Stacy watching Geraldo unzip his coveralls to reveal a muscular body covered with prison tattoos. Stacy knew her objection was pointless before she made it.
“Like I said. Michael Cabreeze asked Mr. Serrentino for a favor,” said Sallie. “Mr. Serrentino told me to put a train on you. Take you down a notch.”
Stacy looked round the garage. Pulling a train was an expression most college coeds were familiar with. During an orientation lecture on campus safety, the dean of women warned about the danger of having to pull a train. The female delivering the lecture admitted to being gang raped by her college hockey team. The lecturer’s warning was succinct. If you get drunk and pass out at a party, the men will sneak you into a bedroom and take turns screwing you until the sun comes up and you walk home bowlegged. Apparently the appearance of the mattress at Stacy’s feet signified that the train was about to leave the station.
“My God, all of them?” asked Stacy looking at the men eying her hungrily. Stacy guessed there were at least thirty.
“Well, we wouldn’t want to leave anyone out. Boys, the chica’s all yours, complements of Mr. Serrentino,” said Sallie starting to walk away. “They’ll let you go after they’ve finished. That is if you can still walk.”
The men hesitated for a moment then rushed her. Stacy saw no point in resisting as they unzipped her skirt and pulled her sweater over her head. Her bra and panty went next. She never got her lingerie back.
Naked except for her hose, the crowd took a moment to admire Stacy’s body. Several of the men grabbed and kissed her running their hands between her legs to feel her sex. They passed her from one to another. Grease stained hands left black marks over her breasts and thighs
When Stacy looked around she realized the men were actually licking their lips as they rubbed their crotch. Their lust was almost palpable as they passed her from one another in the circle. Resistance is not only futile but likely to get the shit beaten out of me decided Stacy kissing each man, pressing her breasts and sex against their muscular bodies.
I can do this thought Stacy as Geraldo pushed her down on her back and climbed between her legs. He used his hard cock to part her labia. Stacy grunted in pain as he forced her non-lubricated opening. She gave several quick thrusts of her pelvis to encourage Geraldo and her Bartholin glands. The pain eased as her glands quickly responded to the presence of a hard eight-inch penis. The onlookers shouted their approval as Geraldo began to pound into her as his mouth attacked her breasts.
I’m pulling my first train thought Stacy as she wrapped her legs around Geraldo grunting as she brought him deeper inside bringing her clit in contact with his groin. I’ll have to ask Portia the derivation of that phrase. It doesn’t seem very logical or descriptive. Twenty, maybe thirty guys surround me. And every damn one of them is going to screw me. One day like a true Sicilian I am going to shoot Mike Cabreeze first in one testicle then the other then blow his cock head clean off. That will make us even for what he’s done to me.
No one lasted very long. It was in Portia’s terms, pump and dump sex. There were no conversation, no intimacy, and no exchange of phone numbers. The men tended to be young, muscular with six-pack abs, covered with prison tattoos, and anxious to show the others how hard they could slam their penises into her. To them it was pure animalistic sex with a woman whose looks, clothes and jewelry shouted they weren’t in her economic or social class. The brutal manner they raped her was their way of getting even with a world they wanted but couldn’t have.
Each one seemed to take pleasure in hurting her breasts. They sucked her nipples so hard she cried out. Several actually bit into the soft flesh drawing blood.
Stacy persuaded the tenth or so train car to allow her on top. This had the added advantage of greater freedom of movement and made it easier to breathe. The disadvantage was those standing around took turns sticking their cocks in her mouth while she rode the man underneath her. Strong fingers pulled and twisted her breasts until they became fiery centers of pain. Stacy lost count of the number of ejaculations she swallowed.
“Get your head into it, girl,” whispered Stacy as she rocked back and forth working the cock in her vagina as she massaged the testicles of the man whose penis was thrusting into her mouth. Recalling her favorite yoga instructor’s advice on how to deal with an uncomfortable difficult posture, she decided to make herself love it. “Hurt my tits, motherfucker,” screamed Stacy lifting her breasts to the man whose fingers were twisting her overstretched nipples.
At some point, somebody behind her announced, “I’m going to pack her shit.” Stacy leaned forward to give him a straight shot at her backdoor. She heard and felt spit on her anus. Next he brutally forced his cock past her sphincter and began thrusting into her rectum. Momentarily, the pain was intense but it quickly subsided. Stacy felt a sense of relief that her over fucked vagina was getting a break. But very quickly, she discovered they enjoyed the sensation of having two cocks inside her separated by a thin wall of tissue as they moved back and forth.
At the end, three of the younger men who had already fucked Stacy once took her in all three holes simultaneously. They used her body for their pleasure while the others watched and shouted encouragement to their co-workers. One would slap her face hard with the side of his cock then shove it in her throat causing her to choke and gag. Drool cascaded down her chin onto the mattress. All the while, they were pinching and twisting her nipples causing her to cry out. As they approached their climax, one began to rhythmically land hard slaps to her flanks. For the finale, they pushed her on her back and ejaculated on her face and hair, covering it with semen.
Sensing they were done, Stacy wiped the jism out of her eyes and slowly climbed to her feet using the side of the car to steady herself. The men had returned to work. A glance at her watch showed she had spent three hours on the mattress being raped. Her shoes, skirt and sweater were on the hood of the car.
Holding herself erect, Stacy took her purse and clothes and walked naked back to the lavatory. She wet some paper towels and wiped off doing her best to remove the grease stains covering her face and arms. Next she dressed, replacing the torn hose with the spare from her purse. She chose not to look for her missing underwear. She took her time re-applying her make-up and combing her hair.
I’m a survivor Stacy told herself looking in the broken mirror. Besides, if I weren’t hurting it wouldn’t have been a true gang rape. Stacy squared her shoulders and laughed slightly at her frayed image. Her lips were swollen and her cheeks were puffy. There was a bruise on her chin. Her breasts burned like fire. The slightest movement signaled her brain how raw and sore her vagina and sphincter were.
Still she managed a broad smile for her rapists as hips swinging she slowly walked back to her car. When she reached the bay where Geraldo was working, she stopped and planted a kiss on his cheek. She stood quietly looking at him until he opened the car door for her. The other men hooted at the gesture but somehow she knew they were impressed with her chutzpah.
Someone triggered the garage door opener and she drove out into the late afternoon traffic. Stacy sensed the car was ridding lower on its suspension than when she arrived. Somewhere in the automobile was a serious load of drugs. Calling on her last reserves of energy she made the five-hour drive back to Cambridge and parked the Cadillac where she found it.
Portia was gone, playing a club date, when Stacy stumbled back into the condo. She quickly stripped and got into a steaming tub. Her first act was to open a packet of douche and rinse out the clots of dried semen and blood from her vagina and rectum.
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