South American Torture, Part 2

South American Torture
Part Two
By Somers and Fleming

The next day, I found that cigars were apparently only for the elite few, 
but every so often they would receive a shipment, and if it was generous 
enough, some were offered to the men as a sort of reward on certain days. 
Unfortunately, this wasn't one of those days. So I managed to get a pack of 
unfiltered cigarettes, and figured it would have to do, because a man with 
no money can't exactly get what he wants. At least I remembered to get her 
some matches.

She was led into the treatment room again, and the generalissimo looked 
sternly at her.

"Today, I think it will be the breaking of you, and of the Federales, 
because tonight you will smoke a larger cigar. I have one especially made of 
the stronger blends, and this will either make you talk, or send you to your 
cell in sickness. Let it begin," he said, while taking out a thick, brown 
cigar from his desk drawer. It was larger and darker than the previous two 
she had smoked and it looked very evil. She looked at it with disgust, but 
remained silent while Jorge got the equipment out, and went to work gagging 
her and lighting up the cigar.

I thought she was doing pretty well, because she managed several rather deep 
drags, and she coughed just a bit. I saw the smoke flowing out of her nose 
and had trouble resisting smiling and winking at her. But as the session 
went on, the generalissimo watching keenly, she became sicker and sicker. 
The smoke was becoming thicker as the tapered cigar's glow became larger. 
The smoke flowed from both her nose and her mouth in the thickest of 
cascading sheets, showing all that her lungs were totally full of cigar 
smoke. The crimson mass had reached the thick center of the cigar, and the 
smoke erupted from her lungs in violent coughs. Smoke was everywhere. She 
was clearly receiving more nicotine than she could handle, and it was time 
to stop. But, as this was a treatment, and by definition was unpleasant, it 
didn't matter. Finally, Jorge had to hold her nose again through the final 
puffs until the ring fell off, and then I feared she would retch in front of 
all these very evil men. She looked so sick that I wanted to console her, 
and tell her what a fine job she had done, but I feared that would be viewed 
as playing too much of the "good cop," and they might get suspicious.

I felt sort of evil, but very privileged. After all, no man in the room 
could claim that he had received a kiss from this woman, and one delivered 
so sensually as the one I had received the previous night was something I 
held close to my heart. The gag and plastic device were removed, and I took 
the poor, sick woman back to her cell. I was expecting her to immediately 
bolt to the bathroom, but once we were inside and I shut the door, she 
brightened up and immediately kissed me.

I felt her wet lips, and the powerful taste of the cigar struck me as 
something so sexy. Having just smoked it, she was totally saturated with 
nicotine, and her body was correspondingly hot and sweaty. She put her arms 
around me and pressed herself tightly against me. I could detect her 
breathing by the warm and fragrant exhales from her nose and the expansion 
and contraction of her chest. I could feel her breasts and the beating of 
her heart through that little sack-like dress. I tightened my arms around 
her, plunged my tongue into her mouth and puckered my lips as we turned our 
heads from side to side, rubbing noses. I was totally intoxicated by the 
sheer smell of the cigar on her, mesmerized by the taste of her lips, and at 
that moment I knew that there was only one thing I wanted to do.

Finally she withdrew her face, still clinging to me and pressing her hip 
into my hard cock. She smiled at me wickedly. I felt hot and cold at the 
same time. She started talking and I smelled the traces of smoke on her 
breath. I loved that.

"Do you think we can do it here? Will they let us?" she asked in a low husky 
voice. She smelled so wonderfully of tobacco.

"There's only one way to find out." I knew nobody would interfere. After 
all, the generalissimo had planned this for me. So she started removing her 
dress. I ripped off my own clothes and found the pack of unfiltered 
cigarettes and the matches in my pocket, so I gave them to her.

"This was all I could get for you. I hope it helps," I grinned while taking 
my pants down, exposing my rather neglected, but incredibly firm organ.

"No cigars, darling? Well, that's OK, these will probably do the trick," she 
grinned at me, having removed her dress, and sat up in the cot, and began 
peeling the wrapper off.

"Oh, you don't have to smoke them now, not after the session with that big 
cigar. It must have left your head spinning," I said, "They're for later, 
and in preparation for tomorrow."

"Might as well get used to them as soon as I can, and there's nothing wrong 
with my head spinning. I'm beginning to really like the feeling," she 
laughed and placed a cigarette into her lips, struck the match, and 
illuminated the tip with fire. As she began drawing on it, I saw her cheeks 
pull inward with some force, and I should have realized that this woman was 
no novice by the way she shook the match out, and the way she smiled when 
she inhaled. Those were the last things I had in my mind, however, because 
once I saw her sweet, plump, sweaty breasts fall and the smoke pour from 
those beautiful lips, I had one thought only, and I acted on it with 
forcefulness.

There is something about being in the jungle that makes you get crazy for 
sex. I knew it, and obviously so did she. I didn't need any preparation for 
the encounter, because something had reached its full and evil size and now 
was the time that I had to do it. The moment my cock penetrated her, she 
went into shivers of excitement and her pelvis moved on its own, bucking 
into mine in a frantic crazy rhythm. It was an incredible fit, and she 
gripped onto me tightly as she became completely impaled. She felt so 
incredibly good, and I wanted to drive as deeply into her body as possible. 
As deep as the jungle is dense.

She cried out in ecstasy, scratched my back and pushed into me and 
contracted herself as tightly as possible. She raised her legs and started 
to kick me in the back of the thighs. This had the same effect on me as a 
set of spurs and made me wild. Then she took a drag on that cigarette, and 
inhaled so deeply that I thought she would explode. She was a really 
muscular bitch, no doubt from years of hiking through the jungle, and 
something overtook me, and made me growl, in order to give it to her the way 
that she needed it given to her. I saw that burning look in her eyes, and I 
began to thrust like an animal.

She moaned and groaned and started into her orgasm. The smoke exited her 
lips in spasms of excited rapture, and her face seemed almost in pain. 
Delicious pain. I remembered her smoking that awfully thick and evil 
smelling cigar, with the smoke flowing out of her nose and her lips, and I 
burst immediately, though I wanted to hold on for her. I kept thrusting 
after it became limp, but I could see that she had had a really good time, 
because of the wonderfully ecstatic expression on her face. I collapsed over 
her heaving body. I rested on my knees and elbows lowering me enough to 
allow our bodies to touch without crushing her under me. After a while, I 
rolled to one side, extracting my limp cock out of her vagina. The bed had 
hardly room enough for the both of us so I lay there on my side with my 
right arm squeezed between us. She took another huge drag of the cigarette, 
and held it in her lungs for many seconds then breathed it out and stared 
into space. It hung in the air in front of her face, and she looked totally 
delightful. I had to kiss her, which we did with breathless passion. I 
tasted the mixture of cigar and cigarette smoke in her mouth, licking the 
inside of it like a child licks an ice cream cone. After breathing hard for 
several seconds, we each recovered our breath again.

"Oh, my God! That was the most shattering experience of my life. Thank you 
so much," she said, then turned to her already shortened cigarette and took 
another long and absolutely delightful drag.

"You needn't thank me. I did enjoy this too, you know," I smiled at her and 
gently massaged her breast. It was soft and full, and I felt her exhale as 
it filled the air with smoke.

She turned her head and gave me a cute and delicious soft peck on my cheek.

"You're a darling. Are you sure my smell didn't bother you?" she watched all 
the smoke in the room, drifting off and it was beginning to get very hazy.

"Are you kidding? I love it. It drives me crazy."

"That's strange. You know why I needed a lay so badly?" She asked while 
inspecting the burning tip of her cigarette contemplatively.

"No, I mean you certainly aren't in love with me and apart from that..." I 
stopped as she rubbed my head, stroking it as she spoke.

"Well, we'll have to talk about that love thing another time, but the truth 
is that smoking a cigar makes me fucking horny, and I love that feeling! 
This brought me back to it." She smiled and then engaged her cigarette for a 
drag that seemed to last forever. When her mouth was totally full, she 
inhaled a little bit of air and then went into another long, smoke-filling 
drag. I continued to massage her full breasts, and I felt like I had 
achieved a state of Nirvana while she gradually blew out all of the smoke in 
her chest. Her exhales seemed to last forever, and I went to sleep while 
watching her inhaling and exhaling like that.

The next day was the time for me to get into the radio room, so I arrived at 
her cell around one thirty in the afternoon. The generalissimo always took 
siesta at about one o'clock, and this would give me the chance to sneak us 
into his quarters, and for her to arrange a little something to pleasantly 
surprise him when he woke up. I already knew that she could do a good job at 
that. I only wished that it could be me in that comfortable bed of his, 
instead of in the radio room announcing our position.

I opened the door, and she was sitting on the cot, smoking a cigarette. She 
looked up at me, and she held the cigarette in her lips as the smoke gently 
flowed from her nose. She was breathing heavily, as if she had just finished 
some exertion, and she immediately smiled at me when I entered. A trickle of 
sweat poured down the side of her face.

"Are you ready?" She asked, dangling the cigarette from those tantalizing 
lips, and then taking a big, luxurious drag. Seeing her there, tanned and 
dripping sweat while smoking a cigarette made me feel like calling the 
endeavor off, and spending the afternoon fucking her. She would soon be 
doing the generalissimo and that really irritated me, but I knew that she 
would be back in her cell later, and from the way she was smoking, her 
breath would be totally addictive. I decided to wait, because now it was 
time to play spy and to hopefully get us both free of that place. My time 
would come later.

"I'm ready for anything, so let's go," I said, playing the role of the 
brave, stoic soldier. Indeed, I felt like I was striking out for the glory 
of freedom within this camp of so-called "freedom fighters." It wasn't their 
freedom I was concerned about, as much as it was hers. I could probably have 
taken a bullet for her just then, anything to free her from this prison and 
get her out of this hell-hole.

She stood up, smoothing her dress and no doubt trying to look her best as 
she exhaled a lungful of smoke, and then took the hit that would send this 
cigarette to it's demise. She closed her eyes as she twisted her face up and 
tried to pull the maximum amount that this poor little thing could deliver, 
pinching its wasted remains in her fingers and tossing it off casually.

"Let's get going, then. By the way, did you get any cigars today?" She 
stopped just short of the door, exhaling as she spoke. I felt as if each and 
every word hung in smoke before me.

"Uh, no, I got another pack of cigarettes though; it seems difficult to get 
cigars around here," I said, tapping my pocket.

"Well, they'll do the trick for the time being," she fished in my pocket and 
withdrew the pack, placing it securely into the tattered pocket of her dress 
along with the new pack of matches. "Let's do it, then."

She appeared more nervous that I had seen her before, which I attributed to 
the fact that she knew she had some unpleasant business to attend to. After 
all, who could say that the generalissimo would not come to her cell nightly 
after she did this, and demand sex? She must have been very worried, I 
thought, so I stopped her at the door and looked into her eyes.

"You OK?" I queried, bending my head down and drawing my fingers under her 
beautiful chin.

"Sure, I'm fine; why?" She looked at me dispassionately, but I saw a hint of 
something in her eyes, something I could not quite comprehend.

"Well, everything will go OK; I'll see to it," I kissed her and I became 
mesmerized by the thick and heavy taste of cigarette smoke. I thought that 
later on, it would be replaced with even thicker cigar smoke, and I felt 
something grow within my pants. Something was missing from that kiss, though 
I didn't detect it until later.

"All ready, then?" She asked flatly. I figured that she didn't want to 
become romantic when she was ready to conduct a mission, though I was 
infatuated with this woman, and I could have taken her and kissed her 
forever. I had the delicious thought about our tongues rolling around in 
each other's mouths, but I brought myself back to reality and I opened the 
door into the sunlight.

I nodded to the guard as I brought the prisoner up to the generalissimo's 
place. He announced our arrival, and the generalissimo told us to come in. 
He was alone, smoking a cigar and he looked up at us with it stuck in his 
face and leaned back in his chair.

"Come in, my friends, please come in," He said, puffing smoke in front of 
his face.

"She said that she had something to tell you, General, so I brought her here 
at once," I said, doing my best to appear obedient, but she was to play the 
card that would hopefully put us in the proper places.

"Ah! The woman wants to talk, now! You have done an excellent job, Senor! So 
sit down, both of you, and I will call lieutenant Hector immediately. The 
cigar treatment is an excellent thing, no?" He laughed, and took the cigar 
out of his mouth in preparation for calling for lieutenant Hector, but she 
stopped him in mid-sentence.

"No! This is for your ears only, general," She turned to glare at me as she 
slipped down into the seat.

He stopped and placed the cigar back into his lips and eyed her 
suspiciously, thinking for a moment, while he drew on his cigar.

"Leave us," he announced to me after looking into her eyes. I think he saw 
the burning desire there, too. I don't think he even noticed that I went 
into the radio room instead of the door to the outside, because her eyes 
were filled with such turbulent power that it was mystifying.

Once inside the radio room, I began assessing the equipment. It was rather 
primitive, built by the soviets about twenty years ago, but it had the 
familiar dial for the frequency, and a microphone in which to talk into with 
a button on it, which you obviously pushed to talk. There were headphones 
that were already plugged in, and a big thick wire, which stretched itself 
over the floor and went up onto the roof where the antenna was located. I 
heard her muffled voice behind the door saying something that I could not 
understand, but I knew that my job was to locate the switch that would turn 
this system on. I ignored the noises in the other room as I located it and 
turned the gear on. The red light glowed. I sat down and tuned in to the 
frequency that she had dictated as the sound of the scraping of the 
generalissimo's chair in the other room came through the door.

I repeated the words in Spanish that she had taught me and then I waited, 
holding back from the button. I put on the headphones and therefore sealed 
out noises around me. There was nothing from the void of static. I repeated 
them into the microphone again, tuning the squelch knob to hopefully make a 
better sound. Still I received just static. I repeated the words again, 
hoping that this frequency was indeed monitored by her friends, and trying 
my best to pronounce the words in the way that she had taught me. Without 
knowledge of Spanish, I was at a loss to respond in a meaningful way, but I 
had memorized a response, which I hoped would serve us nicely.

I went on like that for about fifteen minutes, and then I heard something. 
It was a rapid burst of Spanish, and I acknowledged it as I had been 
instructed. I started repeating the message into the microphone, but then I 
heard a short burst of machine gun fire from somewhere, and I tore the 
headphones off, and my heart started pounding.

What if something had gone wrong, could I be announcing our position to the 
freedom fighters, and might they come into this room and show me the true 
meaning of liberation at the end of a gun? Then, I feared for her, and threw 
down the radio gear and went to the door and reached for the knob, knowing 
that frail woman was in there unprotected, and maybe worse. No, wait...

I slipped around to the side of the door before opening it slowly, unsure 
and afraid of what I would find out there. I had seen these madmen before, 
and they would certainly not hesitate to shoot at me, the dispensable 
American. It creaked open.

There she was, lighting up a cigar with the automatic weapon in her other 
hand. She must have heard the creaking of the hinge, and looked up while 
puffing on one of the generalissimo's cigars and started to raise her gun. 
Seeing it was me however, she just smiled wickedly and threw the match away 
after shaking it severely.

"He was a total wimp." She said, puffing the cigar up to a brightness that 
rivaled that of a candle flame.

I looked at the cot, and upon it lay the generalissimo's remains. I won't go 
into gory detail, but he had suffered a round of bullets, which passed 
through his neck area and we'll just say he was beside himself. There was a 
distant sound in the background that sounded like a washing machine, and 
some shouts in the camp.

"What should we do now?" Was all I could say, as she turned and took an 
immensely heavy drag on the cigar. She was entirely naked, and I could see 
the beads of sweat drizzle down her hips as she placed the gun down on the 
desk, and she started to yank the tattered dress out from underneath the 
body. She puffed on the cigar the entire time, and only removed it from her 
mouth once she had the dress free.

"I don't give a fuck what you do, but I'm going to get out of here," She 
stepped into the dress, and put the cigar back in her mouth, "Oh, shit," she 
said, noticing that there was some blood on the top of it. Now the beating 
sound was extremely clear. It was the sound of a helicopter. She grabbed the 
generalissimo's fatigue jacket, and put her arms into it. Then she picked up 
the submachine gun and let out a plume of cigar smoke that would have been 
heavenly, were it not for these surroundings. There was increased agitation 
in the entire camp, with shouts and rifle fire bursting out.

"What do you think, does this become me?" She teased, pretending to model 
the dead generalissimo's jacket as she walked sexily toward the door with 
the gun in hand, and the wicked cigar glowing in her mouth.

I started to say something, but then Hector burst into the room. I dove for 
cover but then he saw me and laughed and said something to her in Spanish. 
She immediately sucked on her cigar and took a breath in order to send all 
that heavy and thick smoke into her lungs, and then she wrapped her arms 
around him and placed her lips to his.

I was horrified. That someone so sweet and loving could kiss the villain 
Hector in that way abhorred me. At that moment, I realized I had just been a 
toy for her, someone to play with, and I felt totally used, and very angry. 
I picked up a chair while the throbbing noise grew to deafening proportions 
around us, and I came at the two of them with a vengeance. She just turned 
the gun to one side and shot me, because a chair is no weapon against a gun.

"I'm awfully sorry, darling, but why did you have to do that? I know that 
Hector is perhaps not one of you favorite people, but he does me really 
well," she took another puff of her cigar, inhaled it deeply, then gave his 
smiling face a kiss, while I struggled to get up with one leg terribly 
wounded.

"You'd best be off, dearest," she shouted as Hector opened the door and the 
thundering roar of the helicopter blades filled the air with its almost 
painful sound. She then ran out with him, across the clearing, pointing and 
shooting at everything that so much as moved as they scrambled into the 
landing helicopter. He shooting with a wicked smile on his face, and her 
puffing on that cigar.

One thing that spurred me on to painfully limp my way into the jungle as the 
helicopter rose and turned to fire its rockets on the camp, was the image of 
her haunting eyes. That, and the cigar smoke. I have been hunting for her 
ever since, just to tell her how beautiful she looks.

THE END

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