Chapter 12

The ranch was a sprawling spread and the hacienda itself, of white stone, was in the thoroughly Spanish style which the wealthy aristocrats had used so much during the nineteenth century, as in southern California, Arches, Moorish decor, the huge patio and a magnificent garden. Beyond that, the grazing field and to the north, about twenty acres ploughed and cultivated for crops.

True to his word, Jack Mordaunt had driven the car to the side of the hacienda, looked around to see that no one was in sight and carrying Eunice in his arms, went through the courtyard and up the stairs to a balcony and one of the guest rooms.

"We've got all the modern conveniences here, even if we are away from civilization," he told her, "might be lucky, they might be sterile. I'll have Dolores send some dinner up to you."

"Oh-I-I couldn't eat. I feel so sick, I want to die."

"Now cut that out!" he told her, his voice rasping. "It's over and done with. I'll get on the phone and tell the chief of police in Mexico City and they'll be on the outlook for them. You just rest and take it easy and you're going to eat. It's good for you. See you later."

Eunice had bathed, observed that were wonderful perfumes, colognes and cold creams in the luxuriously tiled bathroom, which certainly did not suggest a crude Mexican hacienda. She had luxuriated in her bath, experimented with some of the perfumes and creams, rubbed a good deal of the cream into her sore pussy and asshole and dabbled with the colognes. In the closet she discovered gay floral-colored skirts and wide-bodiced blouses with short sleeves. She decided to try on one of them, although she couldn't find any lingerie to go with it. When Dolores knocked with the tray, she was in much better spirits and called "Come in."

Dolores entered, giving Eunice an appraising look, which made the latter blush, although she couldn't quite know why.

"Here is your supper, quite know why."

"Here is your supper, Senora Mordaunt," Dolores said coldly. "The Senor wishes you to eat very bit."

"I'll do as I please, thank you. Who are you?" Eunice icily retorted. She was trying frantically to forget the horrible episode of the afternoon, but now, esconded in a palatial ranch and deeming Dolores to be a servant, all her old inborn arrogance returned in a flash, by way of sublimation of conservation, although of course Dolores couldn't be expected to know this.

"I am Dolores," the Mexican-Indian mistress of Eunice's husband calmly retorted as she set the tray down on a nearby table in front of a luxurious armchair. "I have worked for the Senor Mordaunt for many years. I did not think he would marry one such as you."

"Why do you say an impertinent thing like that? Remember your place here, Dolores." Eunice Mordaunt arched her patrician eyebrows in a cold, disdainful look.

"I remember my place very well, Senora. And you will remember it, too, in good time. I have told you what my master wishes you to know-you are to eat and quickly, for he wishes to see you." There was something in Dolores's bold stare and mocking tone which galvanized Eunice into sudden fury. She walked forward and slapped the started Mexican beauty across the cheek, exclaiming.

"That's to teach you not to take that tone with me! Now you go back and tell Mr. Mordaunt I will eat what and when I please and if I feel like eating what's on this tray, I'll do it, otherwise not."

If looks could have killed, Eunice would have dropped dead that moment. Her face smarting, her hand rubbing the flaming spot, Dolores said between her teeth, "I will deliver your message, Senora."

Outside the door, toward the end of the hallway, Jack Mordaunt stood with his hands in his trouser pockets, his cigar stuck at a rakish angle, an amused smile on lips. Dolores hurried to him and swiftly related what had happened.

"So she slapped you, did she, mi corazon? She's going to regret it. In exactly forty-five minutes you go back in there and see if she's eaten her food. If she hasn't, I'll find a way to make her do it and apologize to you too, mi amante."

Dolores arched her loins against his stiff cock as she flung her arms around his neck. "When are we going to be alone together?"

"You're going to have to share me a little with Eunice-wait a minute, don't get mad. I've got some plans for her, so listen." And he bent to whisper in her ear.

Her eyes widened, then she giggled and finally she hugged him furiously, kissing him all over his cheeks and forehead until finally her mouth crushed his in a passionate embrace.

"Oh, my dear one," she panted in a whisper. "It is so exciting to hear you talk that way. You watch, I will make her do all sorts of things to please you. What fun it will be to turn her over my lap and spank her insolent big ass! You like me to say these words, my lover?"

"Certainly, since I taught them to you. Now go back and wait until the time is up."

Again there was a tap at the door and Eunice, who had eaten very little from the tray, angrily called out, "Come in!" Dolores appeared on the threshold, hands on hips, a critical look on her sensual memorably stern features.

"I see that the Senora is not finished her meal. Concepcion will not like that, neither will the Senor," Dolores commented wryly as she approached the tray.

"I don't give a damn about this Concepcion nor my husband. I didn't feel like eating and you may take the tray away. You are very impertinent for a maid. In my house, you would have been discharged a long time ago," Eunice remarked.

"Then you refuse to finish."

Eunice stamped her foot, rage making her face flame. "I told you once. Isn't that enough? Yes, I have finished. Take it right out of here and take yourself with it."

"Now that is too much, Eunice."

"Eunice-you have the effrontery to address me by my first name-you, a Mexican servant?" The scorn and contempt was visible in Eunice's angry face.

"I am a little more than a servant, Eunice. You may expect to hear about this." She hurried out of the room and in a moment returned with Jack Mordaunt beside her.

"Jack, will you please tell that wretched girl that so far as I am concerned, I don't ever want to see her again. She was insulting and rude to me. She gives herself airs-for a servant."

"She has a right to give herself airs. She's been to bed with me. Don't look at me like that, Eunice. After all, I only married you two days ago and you don't imagine I kept myself a virgin so I could wait for that haughty cunt of yours."

"Please, for God's sake, don't talk like that in front of her."

"I'll talk any way I please. We're in Mexico, so we might as well live as the Mexican do. In this country, Eunice, a girl is subordinate, inferior to a man. She talks when spoken to and she does what she's told. Now I want you to finish your supper."

Eunice stamped her foot. "I won't. You have no right to talk to me this way in her presence."

Jack turned to his mistress. "Dolores, get that black leather belt, the one with its end cut into three tails," he calmly ordered. Dolores giggled and hastily felt the room, returning almost immediately with a long black belt, the end of which was sliced into three inch-long strips, like a whip. She was about to hand it to him when he shook his head.

"No, you do it. Now then, Eunice-" Dolores was grinning from ear to ear, her eyes dancing with malicious anticipation. "-you're going to put that tray of food down on the floor and get over it on all fours. And you're going to bow your head to it and lap up all the food haven't eaten. I'm going to stand over you with this belt and hurry you along."

"You-you-you" Eunice sputtered ineffectually. "I'll do no such thing. Get the hell out of here, you common greaser."

Dolores' lips tightened at the insult. "Your wife is very free with her tongue, Senor Mordaunt," she said angrily.

"I had hoped she would say a thing like that to you, darling," he said to his beautiful Mexican-Indian mistress, while Eunice, not believing her ears, turned, her jaw dropping. "Before you give her the belt to make her eat, I think you ought to give her a little spanking, such as one gives a naughty child."

"No! You wouldn't dare. She's not to touch me! I'll die before I'll let her do that!" Eunice shrieked, beside herself with rage.

Jack Mordaunt grabbed his beautiful brunette wife by the waist, easily lifted her into the air and gripping her wrists with his left hand and putting his right hand under her legs, carried her over to the wide armchair, in which he seated himself. Then, adroitly reversing his lovely bundle, he dumped her down over his knees, clamped his right leg over her calves and tugged up her skirt. At once her upreared, creamy bottom was exposed to view.

"When you are about to ask my pardon, Eunice," Dolores intoned as she approached, "just call out my name and humbly tell me you are ready to do whatever I order. Do you understand?"

"You detestable creature-you vile harlot!"

"Prepare her bottom," Dolores ordered. Jack Mordaunt grinning complacently, held Eunice's wrists with his left hand with his right tugged up the cleanly laundered varicolored skirt she had taken out of the closet of the guest room.

"Why, you're very accommodating, Eunice. You can see she must have known she would get a spanking, Dolores, for she isn't wearing pants. Let me pull it up higher, so you can cover all of her bottom."

"Oooohhhh!!! No-I forbid you to-stop it! Oh, God, not that again! Not in front of her Aaaiii!!"

Jack hiked her skirt up well past her waist, rolled it into a tight circle, baring her naked bottom. His legs griping her calves, his left hand holding her wrists, his right hand against the small of her back, Eunice was completely helpless. Dolores spat on her hands playfully, then took her stance, standing to the victim's right. The frantic brunette, more shamed than hurt at the beginning, uttered angry cries and frenzied, desperate threats. But after about twenty-five hard spanks, Eunice began to find the ordeal somewhat taxing and tearfully, begged Jack to spare her more of this mortification.

"Dolores, I think she's about ready for the belt now." he ordered. "Give her a present and see if she's going to be a nice girl from now on."

"Gladly, my lover," Dolores laughed, "with the greatest of pleasure." She picked up the belt, swished it through her air and cheerfully announced to the desperately lunging, twisting half-naked captive, "By the time I have finished these twelve strokes over naked ass, muchacha, I expect you to be ready to apologize to me for slapping and insulting me. If you don't, I will give you twelve more and so on, until you are bleeding and broken in. Get ready."

Eunice looked back, absolutely thunderstruck, unable to believe that anybody would dare to whip her naked bottom with a belt. At that very instant, the leather bands slithered out and hit her jutting asscheeks, the three long finger-like whips nipping viciously into her outer thigh. A long wail of pain rose from the victim. A second stroke around the base of both huddling, crimson asscheeks drew a piercing scream and Eunice, weeping, began to ask Jack to intercede for her. But he sat silently, holding her tightly so she couldn't escape. A third and a fourth lash cracked down over the tops of her swerving hips.

"St-t-t-t-op i-t-t-t-t. Make her stop it! She's hitting me too hard, she's killing me, she's ripping me to pieces!"

"Why, a little while ago, you were saying that was what had happened to you, but I can't see any evidence of it."

The fifth stroke of the belt clung diagonally to Eunice's naked ass. She flung back her head, eyes bulging, her face full of tears and agony and emitted a frenzied scream each time the noisy smack-k-k-k-k of the belt attacked her already swollen, naked, burning ass.

Finally, by the eight stroke, she managed to conquer her pain and agony of spirit enough to ask mercy of Dolores herself. "Eeeeoooh! That's enough. I apologize."

"That was not quite enough?" Dolores inquired, raising the belt and bringing it down in another smack noisy right over the stripe on the burning asscheeks.

"Ooowww!! Oh, stop. I'm begging you, Dolores. I didn't mean to be nasty, oh, please, I can't stand it anymore," Eunice shrieked. Her twists and lunges excited her husband, over whose lap she lay. His eyes devoured her, then fixed Dolores, his beautiful Indian mistress, with a burning look of desire.

"Well, that is better," Dolores conceded. "If I let you off the rest, will you get down on all fours and eat up the food you have wasted?"

"Oh, don't treat me so cruelly - don't - Eeeeee-rrrrah! Oh my God, yes. I'll do anything, if you'll only stop whipping me with that horrible belt!"

For, instead of a reply, Dolores had slashed the belt across the already darkened welted flesh. Now she replied:

"Very well, I shall give you a chance. But at the least sign of disobedience or rebellion, back you go over the Senor's lap and I shall give you an even dozen. After that, we will see. You can let her down now, Jack darling."

Rudely, Jack Mordaunt dumped Eunice from his lap and she fell to the floor with a shriek of pain, since she landed on her naked bottom. Tugging her skirts down, she staggered to her knees, her hands rubbing her burning bottom frantically through her skirts. She caught her breath through a torrent of sobs and groans, but when she saw Dolores approach, swinging the belt, she hastened to drag herself on her knees over to the tray which had been placed on the floor and immediately bowed her head to the plate on which remained several frijoles and began to gnaw at them.

"Dolores, pull her skirt up over her ass so she'll be ready for spanks in case she acts up any more," Jack suggested as he lolled in his armchair and unbuttoned his fly to let his stiff, aching prick out. Dolores's eyes feasted on that sight and she at once grabbed Eunice's skirt and jerked it up well above the waist, once more exposing the red-streaked, swollen cheeks of Eunice's well-whipped ass.

"Oh, don't - don't whip me anymore. I'll be good. I'm sorry, Dolores. Please - oh, please put that down," Eunice blubbered. No one could ever have dreamed that such a fall from pedestaled, patrician power could have come to her - and at the hands of a Mexican-Indian girl who was her husband's bed-slut!

In her fear of the lash, her body shaking and trembling, she almost gobbled down the food. "Now, that's much better. You see how easy it is once one has made up one's mind?" Dolores chuckled. "Now, Senor Jack, what do you wish me to next?"

"Take off your skirt and blouse, baby, because I can't wait any longer. But first make Eunice crawl around and face the chair, so she can see what we are going to do."

Dolores giggled and beaming with satisfaction, she approached the other young woman and bending to her, took Eunice by an earlobe and turned her around.

And then, through her tears, her skirt rolled up high over her waist, her bottom naked and swollen, cringing there like an animal that's just eaten its meal, Eunice, wife of Jack Mordaunt, watched the scene before her, while Dolores, shamelessly hoisting up her skirt, seated herself on her husband's prick and began to ride it up and down and Dolores from her perch smiled down at her and commented, "Oh, what a man your husband is! You don't know how good it is to feel his naked prick inside my pussy. Aren't you envious? Oh, he goes all through me, all the way up to my heart! He is making me want to give down all my lovecream. Doesn't he make you feel that way when he fucks you, Eunice dear?"