Chapter III Back from the Dead
Teresa nearly fainted. The stranger had been no prize to begin with;
but now the left side of his face was horribly caved in where Carlos had struck
him with the bottle. His bloodshot left eye was almost entirely closed -- it
was deeply sunken into the swollen and discolored flesh of his face and temple;
but he seemed otherwise OK.
"But... how?" she stammered, backing away.
Teresa stepped back into the room, and as the drenched little man
followed her across the threshold, she backed away from him. The gruesome figure
licked his lips as his good eye devoured her body. Teresa's momentary exposure
to the downpour had left her face, shoulders, and golden belly slightly wet; the
damp satin top clung tightly to her spectacular breasts. The chill of the night
air caused her nipples to spike noticeably against the thin cloth.
Despite her earlier apprehension, Teresa retreated behind the seated
figure of the man drinking at the bar, seeking protection. She reasoned that
the tall man in black was surely less dangerous than the little man that she had
sent to his death.
"Make him go away," she implored the figure in black; I do not like this
man!"
The newcomer threw the heavy knapsack on top of the nearest table, and
smiled a crooked smile revealing uneven yellowing teeth.
"Now don't be that way, Teresa. You stood me up the other night. I just
come back to git what I was fixin' to git that night. It's Halloween night
where I come from. And I've come back from the dead just to celebrate it with
you."
El Reptil's long arm snaked around Teresa's trembling shoulders
protectively, noticing the dampness of the bolero. He inhaled the sweet scent
of coconut that wafted upwards from the hollow between shapely breasts. "Don't
you worry yerself none, Ma'am." Then he turned toward the dripping figure in
the doorway. "I don't think the lady wants you here, pardner. Maybe you'd
better move along."
The girl shot the tall man in black a warm glance, and a whispered
"Gracias"; perhaps she had misjudged him. Thank God he was here now.
"I don't really give a fuck what the lady wants, you big ugly prick!"
the little man responded fiercely, pulling a gun and pointing it at the big
man's chest.
The big man calmly took another long swig from the bottle, wiped his
mouth, turned to face the dripping man with the gun and said, "Who you callin' a
ugly prick, you sawed-off little weasel! And put that fuckin' gun, down, Ernie,
before you shoot somebody! Probably yer own damn self!"
When the big man called the little man by name, Teresa gave him a
puzzled look. "Tell him to go away!" she whispered nervously.
A jagged flash of lightning outside followed by a deafening crackle of
atmospheric electricity heightened Teresa's anxiety, as her gaze moved from one
man to the other.
The tension in the cantina was palpable. It would not have comforted
Teresa to know the history of the two men who had come to share Halloween night
with her. The smaller of the two was Ernie Gibbs, a sawed-off runt of a man
who had the reputation of being the meanest little prick in Texas. Perhaps
because of his small size, he carried a chip on his shoulder the size of the
Alamo; Ernie didn't take shit from anyone, particularly from women he felt had
done him wrong. Ernie's rage was never far from the surface, and tonight,
despite his maniacal grin, it was of volcanic proportions. And, Teresa knew,
she was the object of that rage.
The tall man, the one with the reptilian eyes, was Black Jack Slocum.
He was a mean son-of-a-bitch, too, but while Ernie was sneaky and under-handed,
big Jack was about as subtle as a stampede. Ernie was a conniving little
bastard; Jack was the kind of hombre who saw what he wanted, reached out and
took it. And he was looking at Teresa Martinez the way a hungry vaquero looks
at a golden-brown pollo roasting on a spit.
"Oh, he'll go away, little lady." The man in black gave her a toothy
smile as his long arm tightened its grip around her shoulders. "Eventually.
But not until he's got what he's come for. Ain't that right, Ernie?"
"Right, Jack," Ernie smiled as he reholstered his weapon. "Did I have ya
goin' there for a minute, when I got the drop on ya?" he giggled. Ernie
squinted out of his damaged left eye. "I'd a been here sooner, if my goddam
horse hadn't gone half-loco in all that thunder and lightning.
Ernie's one good eye met the Latina's. "Me and our little dancin' girl
here got some unfinished business to attend to, don't we Teresa? We was just
fixin' to get better acquainted when those two goons jumped me. Lucky you
happened to see them ridin' off with me in that cart that night, Jack. Or I'd a
died in that fuckin' canyon they dumped me in. I owe you for that one, Jack."
Teresa was now certain that her two late-night callers were on friendly
terms, and she opened her mouth to scream, but the man in black clapped a huge
hand over her mouth. "Sorry, honey, we can't have you callin' none of yer
greaser amigos. Not that anyone's likely to hear you during this cloudburst.
Figure we should gag her, Ern?"
"She's wearing her gag, Big Jack. Between her legs. Ain't you,
Teresita?"
The terrified girl shook her head no, but the one called Ernie looked
quickly outside again to make sure no one was around, and came back inside.
Teresa could hear the terrible finality of the click of the lock as he latched
the door shut.
"Take 'em off, mija," the little man said sternly. "Yer panties, I mean.
If you're wearin' any, that is." Teresa struggled in Jack's powerful grasp, but
to no avail. She tried again to scream, but Black Jack Slocum stifled her by
placing a huge hairy hand over her mouth.
"You stood me up the other night, Teresa. I had to re-schedule our date
for tonight. Me and my buddy, Jack, here is gonna make it a double date.
Ain't we, Jack? We're gonna have us a little Halloween party -- just the three
of us. You're going to be the treat, Teresa. And in here," he patted the blue
knapsack, "I've brought a little bag of tricks. Ya see, me and Jack like
playin' tricks -- especially on pretty young girls like you."
"Right, Ern. You should be honored, little lady, to have two gentleman
callers on the same night."
"That's right, Big Jack. You're gonna find us real attentive, Teresa.
REAL attentive. Me and Jack, here, we go way back. We've .. uh... entertained a
lot of girls, ain't we Jack? But I should tell you something -- Jack don't much
like Mexicans. Ya see, it was a Mexican girl in Texas that got Jack's ass sent
to prison. For life. Until I helped him bust out."
"Yeah, and while I was in that stinkin' hellhole, the head guard was a
bean-eater named Morales. Paco Morales. And Morales, when he found out that
I'd raped a Mexican girl, took it upon his ugly self to put me in a compound
with five wetbacks. Those five jumped my ass the first night I was there, and
stomped me so bad that I peed blood for a week. And that's pretty much the way
it went for four fuckin' years."
"So ya see, Teresa," the desperado in black growled, as he held the
struggling girl tightly, "I ain't too kindly disposed toward fuckin' Mexicans.
But I'm fixin' to even up the score a little tonight."
"Yeah, Jack -- like we evened the score with that sweet young blonde
back in Texas!"
{Author's note -- Honey Wilson was the pretty blonde adolescent who had
been an accidental witness to the Mexican girl's rape. She had testified
against Black Jack Slocum, ensuring his conviction and imprisonment. He had
vowed revenge the day the jury returned the verdict against him.
Four years later, Ernie Gibbs had helped Jack escape from that hellhole of
a prison and he and Slocum had met up at the remote Wilson ranch in west Texas,
where Ernie had tracked Honey Wilson. Jack and Ernie had surprised the
nineteen-year-old blonde, who by now grown into a teasing, voluptuous beauty,
alone on her daddy's ranch, and for two days the desperados had exacted a cruel
revenge on her shapely young body. And then the two criminals had fled the law
by crossing into Mexico, and they had been riding westward since. The full
story of Honey Wilson's ordeal is told in "The Outlaw's Revenge" }
Now let's see about that gag." Ernie approached the young Latina, who
was struggling helplessly in Jack's grasp. "Put her over that barstool, Jack."
And effortlessly the big man forced the struggling beauty down, face
forward, over a sturdy three-legged barstool. Ernie approached her, lifted her
white skirt high above her waist, and paused to admire the view. "Nice legs,
eh, Jack? Didn't I tell you?"
Black Jack Slocum was indeed admiring the thrashing brown legs of their
prey; her dancing had stood her in good stead. Her legs were long and curved
and had excellent muscle tone. While he held her down with one powerful arm,
his left hand stroked the firm flesh of her thighs. Those long legs would look
even better, Jack mused, when he had painted them with a few stripes with Black
Betsy, the dark and sinister leather strap that he wore through his belt loops.
"Hold still, bitch!" Ernie was trying to get at her panties, but while
Jack had her upper body pinned to the stool, her legs were kicking wildly,
trying to escape his groping touch. When she wouldn't stop squirming, Ernie gave
Jack an evil grin. "She got spirit, don't she?" And then, no longer smiling,
he whispered to Teresa through clenched yellowing teeth, "OK, if that's the way
you want to play!"
Ernie retreated to the knapsack, opened it and pulled out a short whip,
a nasty-looking weapon comprised of a black handle and four strips of tough
rawhide.
Then, he walked back over, knelt down in front of her and showed her the
whip. "Guess I'm going to have to learn you how to behave. You got her skirt,
Jack? That's it. Just keep it pulled up."
And Ernie, walked around behind her and brought the rawhide down with a
sharp CRAACCK! across Teresa's legs just above her knees.
"Aiiie!" she yelped and kicked again.
"Shut the fuck up, bitch!" and Ernie CRAACKED! her again, midway up her
legs, the tough leather biting deeply into her brown flesh. "Hold still!"
But the athletic legs kept thrashing, so Ernie whipped her soft thighs
again, higher up this time. And then he slashed her again, right across the
fresh mark he had just left.
"Aggghh!!" Teresa hollered in earnest this time and redoubled her
efforts to get away. But Snake-eyes held her fast, while El Raton continued to
slash at the backs of her beautifully squirming thighs.
Ernie Gibbs had to give her three more scathing lashes across her pretty
young legs before she finally stopped kicking. When she did, he asked, "Are you
going to hold still, now?" She nodded yes.
And Ernie reached for her panties, and slowly rolled them down over the
ripe curves of her buttcheeks.
"Look at that sweet ass, Jack!" Ernie exulted, as he gave her buttocks
a good squeeze. "We're gonna have us some fun with this one, ain't we?" Ernie
smacked her golden buttocks sharply with his bare hand, still cold and wet from
the rain. "Nice firm cheeks, Jack!" He spanked her again, harder this time,
just above the wadded up panties that hugged the base of her bottom. "Nice and
round and firm! They oughta be able to take a lot of punishment."
Ernie smacked her left buttock again, pleased with the warmth, contour
and resilience of Teresa's assflesh. "You know, Jack, I'll bet our little
senorita's part nigger!"
Teresa was surprised that the ugly little man had guessed that; her
great-grand-mother had been an Afro-Cuban. Teresa had always surmised that some
of her own dancing talent, as well as a certain exotic quality to her lovely
features, had come from Mama Nita.
"Bad luck for you, girlie -- Jack don't like niggers any more'n he does
Mexicans." Ernie's cold, damp hand found its way between Teresa's naked legs
and groped her for a moment, as she wriggled in revulsion. His greedy fingers
explored her pink slit, as he inserted one, then two, then three fingers into
her as she writhed in shame. "She's wet, Jack, just like the cock-teasing whore
she is," Ernie chortled.
Ernie pulled her undergarment off then, down her long shapely legs,
leaving her naked from the waist down. He handed the thin wad of fabric to Jack
who stuffed it in her mouth. "You spit that out, and you'll wish you hadn't!"
Jack warned her.
Ernie debated whether to tie their prisoner up; but for what he had in
mind leaving her untied, at least for the time being, might be more fun.
"Stand her up, Jack!"
