This is chapter 21, part 3 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here. This is a rough second draft.
Chapter 21 – Part 3, The White Witch
I later learned PP built high-end apartments and houses for the housing department at the University of San Francisco in Guatemala City. He was acquainted with many of the professors, all whom seemed to be rabid anti-American leftists and Marxists. When they discovered PP housed an American eunuch in his little zoo, the house filled with these gringo haters. He had visitors among this group once or twice each week to see me on display. The academics flattered PP shamelessly, and they made him feel important and intellectual. The couples often came with children of all ages, and they were told I was the yanqui eunuch. The children seemed to not care about my nudity; they were more interested in watching the garden snake, Hilda (named after PP’s civil wife,) eat the small mice.
These visitors delighted in tormenting me, especially the women. They would handle my bangle and deformed genitals abusively as I served them drinks. Some of the single men would take me to the hobby room and anus-fuck me or make me suck their penises. They didn’t fuck me nicely like PP, and I endured it, I never felt any pleasure. I was whored out again, and I regretted my similar treatment of Maria as they stroked into me.
María rarely appeared when I was present in the room. She’d sometimes prepared snacks or drinks in the kitchen, sending me out with a tray to serve the guests, her only interaction with me. I was sure she was embarrassed by what I had become – her husband of many years become a circus freak. I couldn’t tell if her indifference to me was real, or feigned to hurt me.
The most abusive of the women, the one that taunted me most, that hurt me physically, was likely the most intelligent, at least listening to the sophistication of her speech. She was outspoken and respected by the others. She could expound for hours on the joys of socialism, the moral imperative of feminist equality, and so on.
She was also the prettiest of the group in a butch sort of way – no jewelry or makeup, short hair, and plain, long dresses but spike heels. She had something strange in her face, an angularity in her cheekbones, a slant to her eyes that made her look devious, devilish, and I nicknamed her the White Witch.
The White Witch was the clear leader of these academics – they deferred and pandered to her. The men regarded her with caution, blanking their faces when they looked at her in front of others. She looked back with a crinkle, a mischievous glint of the eyes, as if she was wiser – maybe she knew something they didn’t. I couldn’t see it but María did. She whispered to me in passing, “White Witch is fucking every man here.” Yes! That was it. White Witch was a total slut, blatant, aggressive, unrepentant, only faking in front of the men’s partners. She was perfect, perfect for me, the woman that would slut out on me at every possible opportunity. If I were single, free of María and PP, I’d take her in an eye-blink, so I would feel the dagger of her lovers’ penises twisting in me continuously. I loved her.
Surely due to practice with other men, White Witch knew exactly how to grip my testicle as I stood next to where she sat. She applied the right pressure to slowly drop me gasping to my knees, grasping her chair arm for support.
The White Witch put both my penis and testicle inside the bangle and stepped on them carefully – hard enough to cause me to alternately be paralyzed by pain, or twitch and jerk, but not enough to cause permanent damage. Why do women always wear red spike heels when they want to destroy a man? She watched my eyes, my pain, judging how much pressure to apply, just like PP had done. I held her ankle with both hands, helpless to do anything else except trust she loved me. She never damaged me, and I knew White Witch loved me, and I loved her in return.
María watched the White Witch torment me and didn’t seem to be disturbed. In fact, she became excited – it wasn’t ridicule, but domination, just as María had done many times before. María left the room while I was ridiculed, but returned when the White Witch took me. The White Witch did not humiliate, she dominated me. She didn’t destroy my personal self, but asserted her female superiority, made me her slave, much like PP did, but without his hate and viciousness. This was something María well understood – the enslavement of men. The bonus was my submission excited María, and she only needed a drink or two to get nude about this point, and the parties turned sexual.
White Witch could have ground away my genitals under those red heels, but she used them to grind away my resistance until I became her puppet, eager for her touch. Then she led me to the hobby room so I could worship her, at the altar of her vulva.
White Witch came to visit me in the menagerie after removing her panty in the powder room. She sat on my bed, hiked her long skirt, opened her legs, thrust her vulva close to my face and taunted me. I was a useless yanqui pig responsible for the exploitation of the authentic people of color of the world, and I deserved no better than death.
Her vulva smelled great, and I teased my tongue toward her clitoris until she demanded I kiss it. She tasted fresh and clean, and once I got my face in the right position, she clamped my head between her legs until she climaxed. Then she’d lay back on the bed, vulva still uncovered, and comment how unworthy I was of such a prize.
She was ashamed for stooping down to my level. It pierced her soul she enjoyed my caresses. I wondered if this was what Nazi officers felt about their Jewish mistresses. She was such a waste of an intelligent, attractive woman, her life now dedicated to hate, coercion, and violence. I felt sorry for her, that a gringo tongue could twist her up in guilt.
* * *
PP and María were of a different educational and social status from these academics. Both knew they were looked down on and patronized, and they took their revenge. María had been used by men and women in so many ways for so many years she was jaded. But however snooty they were, María still enjoyed a variety of sexual experience with these men and women.
The guests gave María more alcohol than she could handle, and suggested she disrobe, for which she was more than willing to please. She’d serve drinks nude, the only distractions on her perfect body were the tattoos on her hips, pimp Pablo’s on one hip, and our son’s Brett on the other. PP didn’t mind her nudity, he was proud to show off both his trophies nude, the defeated gringo with the broken genitals, and the gringo‘s wife, his mistress and personal fucking toy.
The tattoo with Pablo’s name did bother PP, and in a subsequent party, I saw Pablo’s tattoo blurred across her skin, leaving a horrible, indelible blemish on her once perfect body. PP left Brett’s tattoo untouched. Perhaps he thought that reminder of an incest moment would further deepen my humiliation.
But María now sported a new tattoo, PP’s name above the labia of her vulva, marking his ownership of my wife.
María’s nudity caused two effects at the parties: jealousy of the other women as they caught their male partners lusting for her, and the level of sexual tension increased dramatically, so the parties inevitably evolved into lots of fucking. María, inebriated and nude, was an easy target for the men, and their attempts to seduce her provided cover for PP to go after the wives and partners of the guests.
María and PP got their revenge for the social slights, servicing their guests spectacularly, specifically to amplify their partners’ sexual inadequacies. As their women discovered PP’s special gift, that magnificent penis, and his ability to blow them up in orgasm, he gained extra revenge by the marital problems he caused. PP’s mastery of that perfect phallus provoked cat-wailing in his victims that rebounded among the walls of the house and patio, shrinking the egos and penises of their male partners.
The men tossed down drinks as they listened to their partners cat-wail, faces red, muscles tense as they valiantly pretended they were sophisticated leftists that didn’t mind PP’s pillaging of their wives. They disappeared into the street to smoke, returning later to exact their revenge on me, mouth- and anus-fucking me to exhaustion. Or they’d choke and gag me ramming their penises into the back of my mouth. I could have bitten off their penises, but they were sacred to me, they honored me as substitutes for PP. More than one held my throat, choking me until I fainted or until my self-preservation instinct kicked in and I beat them off. I didn’t mind, I was ready to die, and I was somehow to blame for their wives bouncing on PP’s penis. I suspect PP destroyed a lot of marriages.
María’s revenge was infinitely more subtle, destroying the men’s egos with premature ejaculations. When she was ready to service the men, she redressed provocatively and sat on a stool, blouse unbuttoned, skirt hiked up to the top of her thighs, legs spread atop red, 5-inch heels, revealing light colored open lace panties and the ridges and shadows of the paradise underneath. Her training in the political parties in Sacramento had not gone to waste. One of her favorite tricks was grinding her booty into their groins, turning her head back to kiss them and promise them paradise until they creamed themselves. Or, if naked, she overheated the men by penis fondling and pumping so expertly most spurted before they got inside her.
* * *
These parties became drugs-and-sex over time. Many of the academics used drugs mixed with alcohol, and what little good judgment they may have possessed disappeared. The extra bedroom, my hobby room bed, and the side gardens witnessed multiple couplings, often spouse swapping and occasional homosexual encounters. Nobody dared seduce María openly in front of PP, but I saw both María and PP fucking others in the garden through the hobby-room windows.
I shouldn’t have been surprised to overhear PP bargaining with the men for their wives, offering María as compensation. Why shouldn’t PP whore-out María, every man that ever claimed her, including me, had done the same.
The female guests hadn’t heard about my willingness to clean semen from their vulvae, and I didn’t tell them. I don’t know why, I was willing to suck their partners’ penises separately. And lick their vulvae to climax. But something about the combined act felt degrading, politically degrading. That was it, I didn’t mind the sexual degradation, but detested the politics.
But, of course, the women found out, and what had been a trickle of female visitors to the hobby room became a torrent. PP hated this. His idea was to deprive me completely of the pleasure of women.
Over time, the composition of the parties changed to the women poisoned by PP, the few men that could make a show by controlling their ejaculations, and the group of men, including homosexuals, and the women that wanted my anus or mouth.
End of book content.
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