This really was it!
The multiple mirror images showed an infinite number of couples on their hands and knees, facing away from each other, their haunches tightly juxtaposed. And then they revealed the largest organ Regina had ever experienced poking its fierce head, and then its awesome length, straight back from the base of the Duke’s derriere. The Duke had shifted into reverse! Regina would never be able to say whether it was the size or the angle, but the penetration was the most uncomfortable she had ever known. The sensation was of being locked together. She knew without trying that it would have been impossible to pull free. And when the Duke started to move, whining, growling, letting out an occasional yelp, it became downright painful.
Still, Regina was nothing if not a pro. A prostitute, she was fond of saying, had a professional obligation, like a doctor. One couldn’t leave a patient in the lurch just because his ailment was offensive. The profession had its ethics. They had to be followed, even if one was put in the unpleasant position of practising veterinary medicine.
What followed, however, would have strained the most dedicated physicians Hippocratic Oath. The Duke, who was a lot stronger than he looked, contrived to strain forward in such a way that Regina, still on all fours, was lifted completely up in the air. She hung suspended there, impaled, while the Duke bayed at the Mediterranean moon outside the window.
All of Regina’s weight seemed concentrated on the overstuffed fulcrum of her body. Far from being erotically stimulated, the area was numb with the strain. She yelped to be let down, but the Duke simply ignored her and kept on howling.
When he finally did allow her to descend, she whimpered with relief. But the relief was premature. The Duke had still another innovation on the determinedly back-to-back copulation.
He rolled over on his back, his swollen organ so tight inside her that Regina was forced to roll over with him. Then he stretched his legs straight up and forced her to do the same. Lying this way, their bottoms glued together, he forced his way still deeper into her.
Regina almost fainted. Before she had been fearful for her intestinal tract. Now she was terrified for her respiratory system. That giant swivel-stick seemed damn well capable of puncturing a lung!
Finally the Duke shifted them back again to the original position. His behind started moving faster and faster against hers in rhythmic, erotic circles. In the mirror Regina saw ten thousand of her derrieres reddening and growing raw from the friction. Then the image dissolved into multiple blurs as the Duke moved faster still.
He was panting. His tongue was hanging out. Regina felt the swelling inside her grow. The sensation was as peculiar as the Duke’s reversed organ. “Are you coming, or going?” Regina couldn’t help asking.
“Bow-wow-wow-wow-wow! WOW!” The Duke barked. His rear end slammed hard against Regina’s. Once! . . . Twice! . . . Three times! And then he released his passion so copiously that Regina hallucinated the taste of it gushing upwards into her throat.
At least it was over now, she consoled herself. But the consolation was premature. Despite the release, rigidity prevailed. Despite her efforts to wriggle free, Regina was as securely impaled as she had been before the Duke climaxed.
Furthermore, he showed no intention of bringing the connection to an end. On the contrary, he was starting to move again, more slowly, but rhythmically, his behind once again chafing her already fever-red nether-cheeks. Regina whimpered pitifully, but he simply ignored her.
They would never come unstuck! She was convinced of it! She was doomed to spend the rest of her life on all fours attached to this would-be canine freak like some obscene Siamese twin permanently and incestuously joined to a sibling of the opposite sex.
Whining to herself, Regina gazed into the mirror. She yelped and looked again. Then she closed her eyes. She just didn’t believe the thousand new images appearing on the scene.
When she opened her eyes, the images were still there, only coming closer. Ominously closer! Regina twisted her head. She had to make sure it wasn’t some trick played on her vision by the mirrors.
It wasn’t.
Coming towards them, slowly, was a large old English sheepdog. “I picked him up as a pup from the American comic, Boob Roper,” the Duke remarked. “He breeds them.”
The dog walked proudly, head high, as if performing some trick for which it had been carefully trained. Firmly clamped in its jaws was the metal handle of a large kettle!
The kettle was shaped like a deep soup pot. It steamed like a soup pot. It made a gurgling noise like a soup pot filled with still-simmering soup.
Or boiling water!
The dog came to a halt with the soup pot poised directly over their cemented behinds. He raised one paw and carefully started to tilt the kettle.
“OOOOO!” Regina wailed. Too late. The boiling water cascaded over their most intimate parts.
Howling, they came unstuck and bounded away from one another. The sheepdog turned and carried the now empty kettle out of the room. He departed with the righteous air of an Anthony Comstock who has seen every last print of September Morn torn to shreds.
Such was Dogstyle. Regina had endured one solid week of it. When it was over, she had more than had it. “I never want to see you again,” she told the Duke.
“You’re distraught, my dear,” he replied. “I shall be in New York in April. I assure you it will be worth your while.” He mentioned a whopping figure.
“No!” Regina, seated in the limousine which would take her to the airport, had slammed the door in his face. “I never want to see that inhuman, backwards, contortionist, misdirected, acrobatic, rotating dingus of yours again!” As the car pulled away, she stuck her head out the window and shouted one last admonition to him: “Go fuck yourself!”
He did . . .
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Spanish Hospitality
Regina never expected to see Don Hermano, Duke de Mula again. But when the soldiers herded her and her hostile fellow prisoners from the truck into the Spanish jail, the official to whom they reported was none other than Colonel Don Hermano del Campion of Spanish Army Intelligence. His eyes widened with recognition when Regina was pushed into his office. He got up from behind his desk and strode over to confront her.
Thus she found herself face-to-face with the Beast of Bilbao. It was a helluva lot better than being back-to-back with him! Anything was better than—
“Dogstyle!”
It was the first thing he said to her.
“Sure now, and he’s giving her the password!” the plump Basque girl rebel sneered to her companions.
“Traitor!” The other girl spat at Regina again.
“You will never leave Bilbao alive!” the wounded rebel declared.
“Get them out of here,” the Beast instructed the soldiers. “I’ll interrogate them later.”
“Interrogation or Inquisition? With hot slivers under the fingernails! But you will find out nothing from us, Señor Beast!” The plump girl was dragged out after the others by the guards.
They returned and started to lay hands on Regina. “Not this one,” the Beast told them. “You can leave her here with me.”
When they were alone, the Beast looked at Regina in bewilderment. “You’re the last person in the world I would have expected to find mixed up with Basque rebel scum,” he told her.
‘Tm not mixed up with them,” she said firmly. “It’s all a misunderstanding.”
“You were apprehended at a rebel hideout. There were munitions on the premises. Propaganda leaflets. An illegal radio transmitter. That is all the evidence We need.”