Fran's body was a beautiful flash of ivory twisted on the cot. She looked almost languorous, sprawled out with her honey-colored hair spread carelessly under her head.
Fran looked, Renee realized with a feeling of dismay stabbing at her heart, as if she had adapted. As if she belonged here in this place and this time!
What did she look like herself, though? She stared at the soft, dark skin she got from her French mother and wondered. Did she look like she belonged, too?
Could anybody really belong to this?
She searched her soul and the answer frightened her. There was no doubt in her mind. It was "Yes!"
An unequivocal, definite yes!
Renee stared at Fran with new fear in her eyes. Fran belonged now and the blonde girl couldn't help any longer. It was up to her. For both their sakes. Only…
She was scared. Desperately, mortally scared. She asked herself the same question she was going to ask Fran: if she wanted to escape?
Only she didn't know. She couldn't make the decision now. And, when the time came, what decision would she make?
Renee collapsed on the bed and the sweat beaded on her body despite the chill in the room. It's the heroin, she told herself. It's the desire for heroin that's making me sweat.
But she lied to herself, and she knew it. It was fear – fear that she wouldn't be strong enough when the time came to make a choice. Fear that maybe, just maybe, she would choose to live in her body as an animal, as a manifestation of lust, as nothing.
Quietly she cried herself to sleep.
When Manuel came again, was it days or hours, Renee wondered dully? He unleashed them and let them sit up and eat bowls of foul smelling soup and bean tacos.
Renee wasn't really hungry. She ate mechanically, chewing and gulping her food in a methodical fashion that made it disappear speedily without coaxing. The dull lust that was always in her body now was coming to life. It twisted her intestines and chilled her skin. She ate faster. The sooner she was done, the sooner Manuel would give her her reward.
He led them across the hall, the grim, dirty hall with the two naked light bulbs in the ceiling, burning day and night.
Manuel undressed and hung his clothes from a nail in the light green, plastered wall.
"Fran," he said. He pronounced it "Frahn", and he gestured the blonde girl up to the low table.
Holding her shoulders, he lay her back on the table, with her butt hanging over the end and her feet straining for purchase on the floor. Fran whimpered as he tied her wrists to the table so she couldn't change her position.
Fran's breasts were beautiful, twin ice peaks capped with dark red flowers. Manuel ran his hand down her taut belly and dawdled near her spread thighs before he brought them up to her breasts and began to squeeze. Fran moaned and arched her back.
Manuel was sucking her tits. Drawing them out. Making the nipples blossom into round rods that slipped between his lips.
Renee quivered, almost enviously. The blonde girl was writhing back and forth breathing harshly as Manuel mouthed her breasts.
He moved between her legs, spreading them wider, making the girl arch higher to keep her straining toes on the ground taking part of her weight. Tenderly, Manuel stroked her belly, bringing moans to her lips. His hands glided over her hairy crotch, squeezing the white skin inside her thighs.
"Please!" Fran cried. "Hurry! Fuck me, Manuel! Fuck me!"
Instead he placed one finger in her slit and slowly began rubbing it in and out.
Renee drew closer, fascinated. Fran's twat was twitching excitedly. Her liquid was dripping down her leg in a thick stream. And still Manuel continued his excruciatingly slow manipulation.
Faster, Renee thought. Faster! She could almost feel that finger stroking the inside of her own passage. Her hips convulsed in sympathetic rhythm to his probing digit.
Fran's cunt lips were swollen with blood, pink through the blonde pelt between her legs. She was writhing and screaming and shouting, but Manuel refused to bring her to a climax.
"Give me a cigarillo!" he ordered.
Renee hurried to his clothes, groped around in the pockets for a minute before she found his cigarettes. She still needed matches. Her fingers went back through the pockets until she felt the smooth, slick cover of a matchbook – and something else.
Trembling, she pulled her hand out of Manuel's pocket holding a book of matches and the hypodermic needle. For a long moment she held the needle, ready to stab it into her own flesh.
With a shudder, she finally jammed it back in the pocket and turned, carrying the cigarettes back to the Mexican.
"Light it," he said, disgusted. "Can't you see, my hands are busy?"
Renee's hands as she put a cigarette in her mouth, struck a match to light it. She couldn't take her eyes off Fran's stretched out body.
She put the lighted cigarette between Manuel's lips and he puffed on it for a moment before taking it in his hand.
Casually he pushed closer to Fran until his prick was resting against her hole. He removed his finger and it was as if somebody turned off the electricity. Fran moaned and sagged dragging Manuel's cock downward by the bite her lips had on it.
Manuel took a heavy drag on the cigarette, and then very slowly, very deliberately, reached down and held the red glowing tip to Fran's ass!
Fran screamed! Her hips heaved up and out in reflex, driving Manuel's rod into her to the hilt. She moaned at the sudden swelling inside her and then she was slipping down as her quivering toes relaxed.
Her butt hit the glowing cigarette a second time. A second time she screamed and she ground Manuel's plow into her furrow.
Again and again she repeated it. Renee lost count seeing and feeling that cigarette burning into Fran's butt.
Fran arched up, yelping and finally Manuel's hand followed her and ground the cigarette out on the soft flesh of her ass as she forced as much of him in her as would go.
She screamed, long after it was out, as orgasm after orgasm racked her body setting her breasts jiggling and her cunt pressing so hard against Manuel that his cock was completely engulfed.
He pumped into her, his buttocks working, and then he let her slowly slide off until she was sagging from the end of the table.
The Mexican turned toward Renee. "Clean it," he said, pointing to his cock, still coated with milky white fluid.
"With what?" Renee looked around helplessly for a cloth.
"With your mouth!" Manuel grabbed her and forced her to kneel in front of him. He held her head steady while he forced his cock through her tight lips.
Renee struggled, horrified. She smelled Fran's musk on the Mexican's rod. But he pushed in anyway, and the soothing feeling that always overcame Renee when she had him in her mouth was working almost instantly.
She tasted the alienness of Fran's juice on Manuel, and she was surprised that it seemed pleasant. Greedily, she sucked his rod, humming, and licking the moisture off his balls.
As she started to work his cock, start it swelling again, Manuel pulled it out of her mouth.
He turned her. "Now clean that," he commanded.
Renee gasped. She was staring into Fran's tangled mat of blonde hair, at her pink pussy just starting to lose its swell, at the white liquid that seeped from it. She tried to shake her head, but Manuel grabbed her by the hair and forced her to walk on her knees until she was kneeling between Fran's spread thighs.
Staring straight up, Renee could see the tip of Fran's jaw lolling open between the valley of her two smooth breasts.
Slowly her gaze traveled down the blonde girl's body, over the soft mound of stomach, to the fringe of hair that started at the top of her thighs and thickened finally to the pale lips staring at her.
Something caught the back of her head, pushed her face forward. Suddenly she was trapped against the incredibly soft meat of Fran's cunt.