The huge aircraft’s acceleration pressed Candice Whiteford back into the gray imitation leather first-class seat of the Boeing 747.  Looking through the dust-scratched surface of the double Plexiglas window as the Manhattan skyline dropped away, she pulled the blanket up against the dry chill recycled air and reflected on her good fortune. 

     All of her hard work and perseverance had finally paid off.  To free her days for auditions, acting classes and a brutal exercise regimen, she had been forced to work nights in the Garment District as an inventory control clerk.  God, what an awful job!  But, it had been worth it.

       She was enough of a realist to recognize that her primary asset, her body, had limited market life. With the money she would eventually earn from being a big movie star, she could retire by the age of 30 when that asset was beginning to show signs of wear.  Twelve years was more than enough time to become rich! As Bernice, her ex-roomy used to say, “Candy, money is the grease that lets you slide through life!”  How right she was.

       So what, she reflected, if her first real acting role was for the Latin American market.  That market was huge.  Mr. Waldo, her Spanish teacher in high school, had said that she had excellent pronunciation.  Mr. Hernandez, the film's Director, didn't seem the least concerned that she only understood part of what she was saying.

    The role was that of a young American college student vacationing in Guatemala who is falsely accused of sedition while visiting a small village.  The audition instructions that Manuel Ortiz, her agent, had shown her indicated that candidates were to show up in white cotton sundresses and white sandals.  At the time, she had thought it odd that no script was provided.

       Initially, she had been very apprehensive about auditioning for the all Spanish part.  But, finally, her agent had convinced her that this was her way of getting her foot in the door.  If she could become a star in South and Central America, her eventual discovery in mainstream films was assured.

    Not owning a white sundress, she had borrowed one from her roommate who, at 5’2”tall, was six inches shorter than she and wore a size six instead of her eight.  The dress had a halter-top that tied behind the neck.  Even so, because it was two sizes too small, her breasts had barely fit within the bodice.  She couldn’t wear a bra without looking awful.  The skirt hem barely came to midthigh.  Looking critically in the mirror at her barely constrained boobs, the way the cloth contoured to her protruding nipples, and the way the skirt flared from her hips, she had almost chickened out of the audition; the slightest gust of wind would expose her panties to the world!  But, Bernice had prevailed upon her that she was being stupid, had a great body and no, she didn't look like a whore ... well, not too much.  They had both laughed.

    So, with many reservations about her appearance, she had bolstered her courage, put on a trench coat and gone to the audition.   Now, after the fact, she was amazed at how silly her arguments for almost blowing this opportunity had been.

    She had waited for hours, crammed into a stifling dimly lit corridor outside a communal dressing room along with at least two hundred other “wanabees”.  Vividly, she recalled the horrible backstage stench of sweat, floor polish, and old musty carpet. 

     Finally, her name was called and a teenage boy with greasy black hair and a bad complexion shoved a tattered script into her hands. The way that his nostrils flared as he unselfconsciously leered at her from head to toe made it clear what he was thinking.  At least he hadn't said anything; that would have been more that she could bear under the tense circumstances.  As was her usual response, she put on a cool arrogant expression and ignored the way that he looked her over like a side-of-beef. She couldn't help having a desirable body.  And, if it helped her to land this part, that was just fine.  With every bit of confidence that she could muster, she walked purposefully out to the front and center of the stage where an "X" was marked in scuffed masking tape.

     She could barely see through the glare from the overhead lights to the three men sitting in the fifth row speaking quietly to one another in Spanish.  Based on the deep tones of their voices and their shadows, she had the impression that all three were large and that there was some kind of argument going on.

    Waiting with nothing to do on the stage, Candice became very self-conscious about her appearance and what to do with her arms. The hot spotlights, focused on her exposed skin, began to make her sweat. Wet spots appeared under her arms and breasts.  In contrast, her back felt so cold that she could feel goose bumps on the back of her neck and legs.

    Finally, the argument ended and the men turned their attentions to the stage.  What they saw was a beautiful girl of above average height, with wavy blond hair descending well past her shoulders, piercing blue eyes, and a perfect complexion.  As their eye traveled downward, their attention went first to the girl's ample breasts straining at their close confines, then lingered at the hint of white cotton bikini panties barely visible through her skirt, and went finally to her long athletic legs.  It was obvious to the men that the girl had a body that required constant physical training.  Candice began to shift nervously under their scrutiny.

    In a strong Spanish accent, the center man, who Candice assumed was the Director, told her to stand up straight with her arms out and legs spread to shoulder width.  Deliberately, though with barely concealed dread, she did as instructed.  She was certain that the men sitting right below her could see clearly up her dress.

    Next, he told her to put her hands behind her head and to turn around facing the back of the stage.  Placing her arms in this position caused so much strain on the bodice fabric that she thought the tie strings behind her neck were going to rip.  The contrast between the hot air under the lights and the cool air from the back of the stage caused her nipples to become so hard that they hurt.  The men spoke quietly to one another in very rapid Spanish.  After an interminable minute in this position, the same man told her to turn around and to drop her hands to her sides.  With both embarrassment at the appearance of her swollen nipples and relief at being able to lower her arms, she did as instructed.

    On reflection, she found what followed next to be very odd.  Candice again heard a fierce spate of whispered Spanish from all three men.  However, this time, instead of arguing, the men seemed to have come to some agreement.

    The Director next told her in a bored tone to read the scene from the script.  When she was done, they began asking her questions about her experience and personal life.  The mention that Manuel Ortiz was her agent evoked an immediate positive response and many more questions.  At one point, she had the distinct impression that she was being cross-examined and became very annoyed.  Still, she answered in ways that seemed to appease their curiosity.  "Yes, my passport's in order ... No, I am not married.  In fact, I don't even have a boyfriend; I haven't got the time ... No, I don't have and have never had children.  I'm only eighteen ... No, no family alive that I know of."  On and on the questions went.  Candice was very conscious of the fact that she had already taken much more time than any of the preceding girls.

    Finally, the questions ended.  After some quick discussion between the men, the Director turned to her, introduced himself as Juan Hernandez, and congratulated her on winning the starring role.  She was instructed to be packed and at Kennedy Airport in five days for the trip down to the shooting location in Guatemala.  The Director handed her an envelope containing $5,000 in cash for her incidental needs.  He also indicated that all other financial matters would be handled through her agent who he knew quite well. Although she requested a copy of the script so that she could begin studying her part, the Director told her that there would be plenty of time for that once she reached the shooting location.  As she could think of no further questions, she thanked the men profusely and literally ran out of the small theater entrance onto 8th Avenue.

    She was so happy that she splurged on a cab to midtown to personally tell her agent of her success.  Tipping the cabby lavishly, she rushed through the revolving skyscraper doors and took the elevator up to Manuel's plush office.  Running past his secretary, who feebly reached to stop her, Candice burst through the office doors in time to see him hang up his phone.  As he stood, she threw herself into his waiting open arms.

    "Candice," he said, "I'm so happy for you!  I just heard.  And, I'm very pleased to report that I was able to negotiate a very respectable $180,000 of which $144,000 is yours and $36,000 is mine!  Not a bad beginning."

    Candice screamed with joy and asked, "When do I get paid?" 

       Manuel smiled, "You'll be down there shooting for about six months.  On the first day of each month, you'll receive $30,000.  Because of how we’ve structured this, that money is tax free; you’re working abroad.  If this is acceptable, the contracts will be here tomorrow."

    She threw her arms around Manuel's neck and gave him a big hug.  Candice looked up into his eyes, "I'm so glad you pushed me to do this!  I almost didn't go."  Manuel returned the hug and slowly let his right hand drift down to the rest lightly atop the girls left buttock barely squeezing with his fingertips.  He watched her eyes for the first hint that she was conscious of his hand and then abruptly broke the embrace and turned away so that she could compose herself.

    "Candice," he said, "I think we're both happy you didn't do that.  Changing the subject, I understand that Mr. Hernandez gave you $5,000.  He said that this is above and beyond the contract.  Enjoy spending it.  Incidentally, you should give thought to sturdy luggage with good locks as well as the lack of cosmetics and toiletries where you'll be going.  I understand that a large part of the film will be shot somewhat far from the conveniences that you may be accustomed to.  Oh yes, one other thing.  Some of the movie will be filmed on the beach.  Unless you want the makeup people removing any unwanted hair below the level of your neck, I suggest you plan accordingly."

    Manuel laughed as the young actress’ understanding dawned with a bright blush.  "Now run along.  I'll see you here tomorrow at 11:00 AM to sign your first big contract."

    The following week was amazingly hectic.  Between signing the contract, shopping, visiting her few friends, quitting her job, getting her hair done, the necessary immunizations, arranging her Visa, and packing, the day of departure arrived all too soon.  Of the $5,000, only $122 and change was left.  She didn't care, in two days, if all went as planned, she would receive her first paycheck as an actress.

       Bernice, her roommate, drove her to the airport.  It seemed only fitting that her garb on the day of her departure should be a new white cotton sundress with halter top, white bikini panties, a floppy straw hat and white sandals purchased at one of the swank shops on 5th Avenue.  Her hair hung in a graceful ponytail down to the middle of her back.  After a tearful goodbye accompanied by promises to write once she got settled, Candice boarded her plane to stardom.

    During the twelve-hour flight down to Guatemala City, Candice reflected on her life.  If only her father could have lived long enough to share in her success.  It was better this way, she thought; at least he was no longer suffering.  Cancer had reduced him to little more than a skeleton before the end.  A tear unconsciously rolled down her smooth cheek.

    Candice Whiteford, or Candy as her friends called her, had grown up in Carol Stream, Illinois, the only daughter of a quiet English professor at Chicago University.  Her mother had died in an auto accident when she was only two years old and her father had never remarried.  With that kind of background, it was natural that her formative years were spent immersed in academic studies and playing key roles in school plays.  Shy, but terribly ambitious, she dreamt of one day becoming an actress and playing starring roles in films and on Broadway. After her father died three days before her eighteenth birthday, she had used the life insurance proceeds to move to New York in order to pursue her dreams.

    The 115-degree heat crested over her like a humid wave as Candice passed through the open airplane door.  Exhausted from the long trip, all she could think about was getting to the hotel where she was supposed to meet the film crew so that she could take a long cool bath.  Descending the metal stairs next to the plane, she looked in frustration at her mountain of luggage piled on the concrete tarmac.  Pausing to brush an errant strand of hair from her face, she reflected that it was going to be a very long day.  The passengers who had deplaned before her were already wearily dragging their luggage to the Immigracion area for inspection.  She now faced the daunting prospect of standing in a line for what might be hours.

    After a few futile attempts to move her many pieces of luggage, Candice was terribly relieved to see two uniformed soldiers approach and lift her bags.  All she could do was smile and give a heartfelt, "gracias".  Motioning with their heads for her to follow, she was quickly led across the tarmac and through a set of double-glass doors into a restricted area of the airport.  Inside, about thirty soldiers and civilians were working mechanically to handle the bureaucratic red tape of processing the few thousand travelers who passed through the Aeropuerto International de Guatemala daily.  The whine of fans blowing in each corner of the ceiling could barely be heard over the din of people talking.  Still, most of the men in the room turned to look appreciatively as Candice came through the doors.  The bright sunlight coming through the glass behind her cast her long legs and the gap between them into bold relief through her white dress.

    Very conscious of their lascivious stares, she moved quickly to follow the two soldiers through two more sets of doors into a long concrete corridor.  Where were they taking her luggage, she asked herself?  The dusty bulbs, dangling every ten yards or so from old corroded wires, contributed to the dingy oppressive atmosphere. This part of the building looked much older than the façade.  The stagnant humid air here seemed too tired to move.

    Coming to a solid metal door, one of the soldiers put the bags he was carrying down and noisily threw the bar unlocking the door.  With many creaks and groans the door slid to the right on its metal tracks.  The stench of chlorine bleach assailed her.  Looking into the room, Candice knew her first moment of fear.

    The small square room before her was very brightly lit from above but appeared to be bare except for a small rectangular metal table coming to stomach height and welded securely to a huge rectangular drain grating in the middle of the floor.  Worn black nylon straps dangled to either side from the table's edge. Both soldiers stepped through the door into the room beyond, where they prepared to search through her luggage.  

       Seeing the locks on her suitcases, one of the soldiers turned to her and demanded in Spanish, “Give me the keys.”

       Reluctantly, she reached into her purse and handed them over.  One by one, each piece of luggage was placed on top of the metal table for inspection.  Candice watched their actions from the doorway fearing that some of her things might be stolen and wondered with dread what they were planning for her.

    Glancing left and right, she saw a few similar metal doors further down the hallway.  Consciously, she noted that none of these appeared to be exits and that, aside from them, the area appeared to be deserted.  Breathing heavily, her heart thundering in her chest, she looked back into the room as the first soldier turned her way and came towards her purposefully.

       Grabbing her roughly by the left elbow, the soldier pulled her stumbling into the room.  As she passed through the doorway, she noticed for the first time that black foam rubber covered the edge of the doorframe; the room was effectively soundproofed.  With more creaks and groans, this same soldier slid the door closed behind him with a muffled thud and threw the bolt home.

    As both soldiers were ignoring her for the moment to continue inspecting the contents of her bags, Candice looked around the room with mounting fear.  For the first time, she noticed an old wooden chair painted pale green setting in the corner a few feet from the door on the right.  Propped in the near corner were a worn broom and mop standing in a large metal bucket.  Next to the chair, a hose with a high-pressure nozzle was coiled on the floor.  It was attached to a patinaed spigot that protruded from the concrete wall.  A small pulley was welded to a steel plate attached to the left wall directly in line and at the same height with the narrow left side of the metal table.  Through this pulley, Candice could see a rope with a large mountain-climbing clip attached securely to the end.  In the two ceiling corners at the opposite end of the table, two other pulleys with ropes were similarly affixed.  However, padded leather cuffs with straps dangled ominously at their ends.  Each wall within the room had a number of what appeared to be two-way inset mirrors.  Candice briefly wondered who, if anyone, was behind each.  On the floor under the right-hand end of the table stood a bucket filled with a liquid that resembled cooking oil.  The smell of bleach was pervasive.

    Looking up from the bag on the table into her frightened eyes, the second soldier picked up her purse and extracted her passport.  After learning her name, he pointed at the chair and commanded, “Senorita Whiteford, sit in the chair.”  She did as instructed, quivering in fearful anticipation of what she was sure was to come.

    The last few dollars in her purse were soon appropriated, "For the good of the state".  The men seemed to take a great deal of pleasure inspecting her many new pieces of lingerie.  Fifteen interminable minutes later, after some furtive looks and hasty whispering, the soldiers closed her luggage and moved each piece into the back left corner of the room.  Purposefully, they walked over to her.

    "Senorita Whiteford, please remove your shoes and hat and then stand up," the first soldier ordered in heavily accented English.  Looking nervously into his unyielding eyes and then down at her feet, she fumbled with her sandal straps and finally, with trembling hands, pulled them from her feet.  Removing her hat, she carefully placed it on the floor next to the chair and then stood.  The gray concrete floor felt cool and gritty beneath her toes.

    So what, she said silently to herself, if they give me a quick feel.  I'll ignore whatever they do and they'll let me go.

    "Please sir", Candice asked tremulously, "why am I here?"

    "Silencio!" the first soldier commanded melodramatically.  "We ask the questions.  Why have you come to our country?"

    Quickly, her mouth dry from adrenaline, Candice told the two soldiers why she was there in Guatemala.

    The two men looked at each other and smiled.

    "So, you are a movie star" the first soldier said.  "Please remove your clothes now.  We are going to search you."

    Candice stared stupidly back and forth at each soldier in disbelief. "What?  I'm an American", she said in a barely audible whisper.  And then louder, seeing the determination in their faces, "Please no!"

    The second soldier stepped behind her and pushed her roughly between the shoulder blades toward the table in the center of the room.  Tears began rolling down her cheeks as the first soldier said ominously, "It is unlawful to resist search.  You would not like our prisons.  Now, remove your clothes or they will be ripped off of you, you will be searched and then you will be placed under arrest!”

    Quietly sobbing, unable to raise her eyes from the floor, Candice reached up behind her neck and untied her halter-top.  Slowly, keeping her breasts covered with her forearms, Candice lowered the halter-top so that it just covered her nipples.

    "Faster," the second soldier barked behind her.  He reached forward and yanked off the elastic band confining her blond ponytail.

    Abruptly, she lifted her arms slightly away, allowing the white cotton cloth to fall down where it hung from the dress's narrow waist.  Behind her, Candice heard the loud recognizable whisking snap of a belt being quickly removed.  Turning her head quickly to identify the source of the sound, she was incredulous to see that the second soldier now held his wide black leather belt doubled over in his hand.

    "Continue", the first soldier commanded threateningly from in front of her.  "Every time you hesitate, it will only be worse.  NOW STRIP!"

    The second soldier walked up behind her and rested the belt suggestively over her right shoulder.

    "Please don't hurt me", she pleaded.  "I'll do what you want."  With that, Candice reached down, uncovering her breasts, and untied the bow at her waist permitting her sundress to pool at her feet.

    Unable to control her arousal, she could feel her hot wetness in the crotch of her panties.  Her nipples pointed stiffly upwards to either side of the first soldier who was standing in front of her.

    "Faster!" the soldier in front of her screamed.  Without warning, he viciously slapped his right hand into the tender side of the young starlet's left breast.

    “Aieee!” Candice screamed in pain and bent forward protectively covering both breasts with her hands.

     The soldier who had hit her seized this opportunity by pressing down on the back of her head to guide it between his spread legs.  Immediately, he clamped down with his inner thigh muscles to immobilize her in that vulnerable bent position.

     In pain from the viselike grip on the sides of her head, Candice desperately grabbed her captor’s rock-hard thighs trying futilely to pull free. 

     Immediately, the soldier behind her grabbed her wrists to twist both of her arms up behind her back.  The soldier securing her head then grabbed her wrists to fully immobilize her for what was to come.

     In terrified pain and fear, Candice sobbed and tried to sink to her knees, but was startled from doing so by the sharp whip of the belt across the cotton covering her ass. 

     “Owww!” she screamed. 

     “Silencio!” commanded the soldier holding her head.  “Now hold still.”

     The soldier behind her then lifted her by the waist so that she was again standing bent over and, moving behind her, kicked her ankles far apart.

     Slowly, starting at her left ankle, the guard behind her ran his hands up her left leg in mock imitation of a search.  Before reaching the taut cotton covering her splayed crotch, he stopped.  He then kneeled down to search caressingly up her right leg.  Next, he reached between her spread legs up her bent body to pinch her dangling nipples viciously. 

     “Aieeee!” Candice sobbed, “Please stop!  I’m doing what you want, not resisting.”  Unfortunately, her pleas fell on deaf ears.

     Resting his left hand on her ass for balance, the guard then ran the spread fingers of his right hand down her stomach to search her panties.  He smiled at the groans from his victim as he squeezed her   pussy, digging his thumb deeply into the cotton covering her gaping vagina.

     Candice knew from the extra pressure on her head and extra-firm grip on her wrists that she was about to be violated.  Still, the sensation of two fingers sliding beneath the rim of her panties deeply into her innermost recesses made her gasp in shame.

     For the next ten minutes, the guard behind her explored the depths of her pussy with two, three and then four fingers.  Periodically, he’d shift positions to simultaneously pinch one of her breasts making her yelp in startled pain.

     With a squishing sound, the guard finally pulled his wet hand from between her legs.  Pulling her panties aside, he then corkscrewed his index and middle finger, lubricated with her pussy secretions, past the second knuckle into her anus.  Both guards laughed at the grunts and fast breathing from the young starlet.

     As he fucked his fingers in and out of the starlet’s beautiful ass, the guard leaned forward to look appreciatively at the painful way their victim’s asshole moved in and out with each motion of his hand.  After no more than a minute of this abuse, the guard’s hand became dry so that these thrusts became brutal torture.

     “Take them out!” Candice screamed.  “You’re going to tear me!”  As her cries rose, she became certain that they planned to torture and rape her.  Therefore, it was with amazement and relief that she suddenly felt the fingers pulled painfully from her ass and her head released.

     Grasping a handful of beautiful blond hair, the guard in front of her yanked her to a standing position before him.  With a loud snick, he ejected the blade of a stiletto and held it in front of her face. 

     Terrified of being disfigured, Candice froze.   With quick economical movements, the soldier went to his knees in front of her to cut the narrow sides of her now soiled panties.  Ruined, they were tugged violently from between her legs and dropped on the floor at her feet.

    Pressing the stiletto button, the soldier stabbed slowly downwards onto the concrete floor retracting and locking the blade closed. He put the knife back into his pants pocket and leaned back onto his heels to inspect her neatly trimmed blond mound at eye level.  Her freely flowing musk assailed his nostrils causing them to flare unconsciously.

    With a slow deliberate motion, he reached his left hand around the girl's hip to firmly grip her right ass cheek.  With his other hand turned sideways as though to shake hands, he reached forward towards the swollen cleft between her legs. 

       In unconscious reflex at the thought of being violated again, Candice quickly clamped her muscular thighs closed effectively stopping its progress.

    Angrily yanking his hand from between the firm thighs before him, the first soldier abruptly stood and nodded his head to his companion.

    “AYEeee!” she screamed, jumping forward into the first soldiers waiting arms as the second soldier brought his belt whisking down forcefully across both her naked ass cheeks.  The snap and searing pain was horrendous. Laughing, the first soldier held her firmly in a bear hug as the second soldier whipped his belt back and forth repeatedly across her naked ass and upper thighs.  Helpless, she could only scream into her captor's laughing face.  The foul stench of his breath almost made her gag.  She could feel his confined erection pressing into her pelvis through his pants.  Abruptly, the beating stopped.

       The first soldier pushed her backward into the second soldier, who looped his belt quickly around her neck and cinched it tight.  Grabbing the dangling belt strap around his right fist, he pulled backwards while grabbing the girl with his left hand by the chin.  Although her hands were free, she was effectively immobilized and choking.

       "Put your hands on your head," commanded the first soldier as he reached forward to grab both of the girl's nipples and twisted violently.

       "Ow ow ow," she sobbed as she tried futilely to remove the hands torturing her breasts.  They only gripped harder and twisted while lifting away.

       "Put your hands on your head now or I’ll team them off!" the first soldier again commanded.

       Gasping for air and desperate to end the pain, she complied.

       "Spread your legs," said the first soldier as he continued to twist and crush the girl's nipples.

       Throwing her legs as far apart as she could under the circumstances, she begged, "Please stop. You're hurting me."

       As the soldier released her nipples, the second released her chin and reached around from behind to quickly grab her left nipple and areola in a crushing grip.  The first soldier, his hands now free, descended to his knees again between the girls spread ankles.  Turning his right hand sideways, he plunged his thumb into her moist vagina and middle and ring fingers into her swollen anus.

       She grunted in pain as the soldier tried to bring his fingers together crushing the skin and soft tissues of her vagina and rectum between them.

       After twisting his hand back and forth between her legs for a time, he pulled it out with a wet sucking sound and stood to firmly grasp each of her wrists tightly.  He then backed quickly around the small table pulling her forward until she was bent over it at a right angle.  Because of its height, she was forced to stand on tiptoes to keep in contact with the floor.  The cool steel of the narrow table supported her from her lower belly to the underside of her breasts, which now hung downward toward the floor.  Her blond hair obscured the light as it fell around her face.

       “Please, oh please stop,” she begged.  “I’ll do what you want.  Just please don’t hurt me anymore.”

       The second soldier, who had been holding the starlet securely by the nipple and the belt around her neck, pulled the belt off with practiced precision.  Firmly, he placed his left hand across the small of her back pinning her down on the tabletop.

       Involuntarily, she jerked as she felt the fingertips of that soldier’s right hand trace lightly down the crease of her smooth buttocks to the swollen lips between her legs.  She gasped and bit at her lower lip as his three middle fingers pressed between her legs to prod the engorged nub found there in rough circles.  As this continued, she lifted her hips unconsciously to avoid the shame of having an orgasm.  A deep gasp was indrawn as the soldier next plunged those three fingers deeply into the wet depths of her vagina.  Defeated, the muscles of her body locked in betrayal.  At the same time, tears streamed from her eyes to drop on the cool cement floor below her.

    Looking down and back under the table, she watched in horror as the knees of the second soldier descended to the floor right behind her.  Guessing what was coming, she was still surprised to feel hands grab her left ankle and lift it up and to the side exposing the slit between her legs and anus.  Frantic with fear at being in this vulnerable position, she kicked backwards wildly and was rewarded with a guttural cry as her heel connected with her rear assailant's nose.  Unfortunately, her sense of relief was only momentary.

    Cursing in rapid Spanish, blood streaming down his face, the wounded soldier pounced forward past her flailing legs to grab the starlet around the hips from the side with his left arm.  He then rammed the same three fingers covered with moisture from her vagina all the way to the third knuckle into her anus.

       “YEEEEEEEEAHHH!  Stop, oh pleeeease stop!” she screamed and pleaded, but to no avail.  Searing pain shot up her spine causing her to squeal and cry as the soldier corkscrewed his hand left and right between her ass cheeks.  Minutes of this torture went by punctuated by her whimpers and a wet squashing sound.  Suddenly, the pain was amplified as the soldier added his pinky to the other three fingers.  Positioning his elbow downward for leverage, he slowly buried the widest part of his hand up her ass.  Galvanized to action by the horrible pain, she fought with frantic strength to climb over the table and dislodge her assailant. 

       Grabbing the soft skin surrounding her anus in an iron grip, the second soldier brought his body down on top of her, pinning her to the table.

       “Puta!  Hold still,” he commanded.  Twisting the skin in his hand violently, he sought to cause her so much pain that she would stop fighting.  Eventually, working together, the two soldiers held her down until her efforts to escape subsided.

       Sweat covered her body as she gasped for air.  Sobbing, she looked up through her hair into the smiling face of the soldier holding her wrists as he squeezed them more securely in anticipation of what was to come.  Looking under the table backwards, she could see and feel blood dripping down her thighs.        

       Behind her, the second soldier closed his hand into a fist and punched it deeply up her rectum in a smooth twisting motion. 

       “AIEEEEEEEEEE!”  Her piercing shrieks echoed from the walls as her anal sphincter was finally forced open beyond its limit. 

       Grunting with exertion, he removed his bloody fist and rammed it up her quivering ass repeatedly until her flailing stopped and her screams turned to weak moans.  Red and brown streaks ran down his arm to his elbow.

       Staring backwards under the table through tear-filled eyes, she saw blood streaking down her inner thighs.  Gratefully, she sunk into the oblivion of unconsciousness.

       Lifting the girl’s limp 120 pound form easily, both soldiers worked together to place her, back down, onto the cold hard metal table with her head to the left and her buttocks and legs dangling over the right edge. While the first soldier held her arms over her head, the second worked quickly to buckle the table belt tightly across the narrowest part of her waist.  Next, he held her arms extended as the first soldier placed handcuffs onto her wrists.  Reaching down onto the floor, he then grabbed the clip on the end of the rope to his left and attached it with a snick to her handcuff chain.  Bending over, he grasped the other end of the rope and pulled it taught through the pulley so that her arms were fully extended over her head.  Finally, he tied the end of the rope securely around the leg of the metal table.

       Gasping, Candice started to consciousness as cold water pelted her body.  To her right, she could see the soldier who had fisted her ass stripping off his soiled clothing.  She grunted in pain as the other soldier spread her legs and douched her quickly with the high-pressure hose.  Next, he pulled her buttocks apart and sprayed water up her ass.  Incapable of resisting, she despaired as she suffered this new abuse.  Now, she was certain that they were going to rape and kill her.

       Naked, the second solder stood next to her as the other sprayed his body clean.  He became erect as he looked at the water glistening on the girl’s beautiful prostrate body before him.  Reaching forward, he caressed her face and breasts and let his hands travel down the contours of her wet body to the slit between her legs.  Spreading those lips, he plunged four of his fingers deeply inside her vagina with an audible squishing sound.  To cause her as much pain as possible, he dug his thumbnail brutally into her clitoris, grabbed her crotch as hard as he could and lifted.

    “Aieeeeeee!”  The pain from her pussy was so intense that she could only make a strangled squeak. 

       Having turned off the hose, the first soldier grabbed both of her ankles.  At the same time, the other soldier pulled his hand from between her legs with a loud sucking sound and walked to the right side of the room where he grabbed the two cuffs hanging from the ropes dangling from the ceiling.  Carrying them over, he buckled them securely to her ankles.  He then retrieved the other end of each rope and pulled down taking up the slack.  Releasing her ankles, the first soldier grabbed an offered rope and together, the two pulled the young starlet's legs up and apart until she was fully extended with her feet pointing upwards at each ceiling pulley.  Her buttocks and loins now hung suspended in midair.  The two soldiers kneeled down and tied the ends of these two ropes to the table legs beneath her.

    Helplessly, too exhausted and in pain from her fisting to do more than lift her head, she watched as the naked soldier moved between her spread legs.  She could feel water and blood dripping from her buttocks.  Pressing her inner thighs just above both of her knees with both of his hands, he let them travel upward towards her abused slit.

       “IEEE”, she gasped hoarsely as the man’s right hand grasped her labia and surrounding hair in a crushing grip.  Smiling at her obvious pain, he pulled and twisted the tender folds of skin until she thought they would rip.

       Grabbing her breasts for leverage, the first soldier now shoved his erect member into the girls abused pussy in one violent trust that slammed into her cervix. With only water and her own blood as a lubricant, it felt like the man’s dick was tearing her pussy apart. 

     Sobs shook her body as tears rolled from her eyes while the soldier sawed into the rim of her pussy while pounded into her aching cervix.  As he came, he grabbed her nipples and yanked them as hard as he could, twisting and rolling them.

     “AEIEEEEE!” she screamed and cried, unable to move.  Inside her pussy, she could feel the man’s warm sticky cum.  It sickened her, but she was helpless to do anything about it.  Her focus was on survival.

     After douching her again with the high-pressure hose, one of the soldiers again grabbed her pussy with all his strength.  As his victim screamed and sobbed anew, he turned his head to address the other soldier and ordered, "Go get the Captain.  He'll enjoy this!"

    Candice writhed in pain as her labia were tortured and watched helplessly as the soldier opened the door.  Leaving it ajar, she listened, as his rapid footfalls became gradually dim.  Seeing the open door, she took the opportunity to scream for help.

    Releasing his grip, the soldier moved from between her legs over to the door and pulled it shut.  Turning towards her, he rested his hands on his hips and looked at the beautiful body before him. 

       "Tsch tsch tsch.  So much noise from a movie star.  Resist por favor.  We will only enjoy this more."

    In response, she looked up at the dangling ceiling lights and quietly sobbed.

    In a few minutes, the door creaked open and the Captain came in followed by the other soldier.  In his right hand, the Captain playfully held a closed straight razor, which he slapped lightly into his left hand.  With a thud, the soldier closed the door and moved under her extended legs to the other side of the table.

    "Please," Candice begged the Captain in a hoarse whisper, "let me go.  I didn't do anything." 

       In response, he smiled down at her and laughed quietly.  “Muy linda!” he said, as he came forward to clap the naked soldier on the back. 

    Moving the razor to his left hand, the Captain reached forward to rest his right hand lightly on the girls quivering stomach.  With a light tickling motion, he then ran his fingertips up to the girl's right breast.  Candice watched in horror as the man gripped her right nipple in a crushing grip and stretched it upward away from her body with an excruciating twisting motion.  The man seemed to take great pleasure in the girl's plaintive screams to stop.

       “Oh God,” she begged, “You’re going to rip it off.  STOP!  Please stop.” Never had she imagined that a human could desire to cause another such horrible pain.

    Just before the skin tore, he opened his hand letting her breast snap downward back into shape.  With sadistic glee, he repeated his actions again and again. His efforts were having their desired effect.  Her right breast now looked swollen and red and her nipple was an inch long.  With almost orgasmic pleasure, she laid back panting when the man finally stopped.

    However, her relief from the absence of pain was only momentary, as she watched the belt being passed above her from the dressed soldier to the Captain's beckoning hand.  With a horrible smack, he whipped the belt onto her now distended right nipple.  

       “AYEeeeee,” Candice let out a piercing scream and arched her shoulders futilely in an effort to escape the horrible burning pain. Her already abused breast continued to swell as it was covered from tip to base in stark red welts.  After five minutes of this stinging abuse, her nipple looked three times its normal size and length.

    “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”, she screamed in a high pitch as the Captain began swinging the belt brutally between to her spread legs.  Her mound quickly swelled to the appearance of a furry ripe tomato.  Vaginal secretions as well as blood flowing from her torn anus soon covered the end of the belt causing it to make a wet slapping sound whenever it struck.  Sweat covered her quivering body.

    Just before she lost consciousness, the beating stopped.  The Captain's shirt was now stained with her sweat and blood.  Breathing heavily, he backed away from the table and let the belt drop to the floor.  Ducking under her extended right thigh, the Captain next moved between her splayed legs to examine the effects of his whipping. 

       Raising her exhausted head to look fearfully down, she watched him gently run his hands up each of her thigh toward her bruised swollen labia.  All she could do was whimper as he opened the straight razor in his left hand and carefully placed its cold hard form onto her stomach. 

       Intent on the beautiful swollen crotch before him, he next playfully tousled the girl's blond curls.  Reaching down with his thumbs, he inserted them inside vagina opening and pried her open until she hoarsely screamed.  Warm air rushed inside her gaping hole as he leaned over to look within.

    Speaking for the first time while holding her open, the Captain looked down the table into her pleading eyes, "I'm sorry senorita, but you have too much hair to search you well."

    Screaming and crying “No” repeatedly, Candice could do nothing as she watched the Captain pull his fingers from her swollen cleft, back away and carefully remove his shirt and wristwatch.  He handed these to the dressed soldier who placed them in the chair by the door.

    Reaching down into the bucket on the floor, the Captain next dipped his cupped left hand in, stood, and began to slowly smear the cool viscous fluid over the tuft of hair between the her legs and between her ass cheeks. 

       Candice gasped and groaned as the Captain's left thumb was inserted into her swollen torn anus with a twisting motion.

    The Captain smiled at this reaction and looked at the naked soldier standing to her left and ordered, "Move forward and satisfy yourselves that her other breast is not fake.  She could be trying to smuggle drugs into our fair country."

    Only too happy to comply, the soldier reached forward and began to squeeze, knead, and twist her left breast, especially her already swollen nipple. 

       “Ayeeii … Nooo ...  Yeee!”  All Candice could do was scream and scream in pain.  Sweat covered her entire body as she strained uselessly against the ropes to escape the torture.

    At the same time as her breast was tortured, the Captain shaved all of the hair from her crotch. Looking with satisfaction at her shaved swollen mound, he ordered the soldier to stop and tell him what he had found. 

       The second soldier formally snapped to attention and reported, "Captain, her other breast appears to be real."  All three men laughed.

    "Now senorita, we're almost done.  The only task left is to search you", the Captain said ominously.

    Quietly sobbing, Candice watched as the Captain again reached into the bucket on the floor and began to cover both of his hands and forearms with oil.  Watching the look of anguish appear on her face, the Captain reached forward with his right index finger and thumb from above to pry open the swollen lips between her legs.  Slowly, fingers together, the Captain smoothly inserted his entire left hand up to his wrist into her tortured slit.

    The restrained grunt that rewarded his efforts inspired the Captain to further excesses.  He withdrew his hand, closed it into a fist, and rammed it repeatedly home.  The resulting screams from his victim were as music to his ears, bringing a smile to his sweatcovered face.

    As painful as it was to be fist-fucked, Candice knew that worse was coming when she felt the Captain’s right hand reach beneath her and insert finger after finger into her swollen torn asshole.  When the second digit went in, she forgot all about the fist plunging in and out of her vagina.  The pain shooting up her spine captured her entire being, as her anus was ripped further open.  She could feel blood and oil running from between her violated ass and up her spine to pool between her shoulder blades.

    Removing his right hand briefly to relubricate it in the bucket of oil, the Captain closed his right hand into a fist, reached below her, and slowly, so as to cause her the most pain, corkscrewed his fist into her rectum while at the same time punching his other fist forward into her cervix.

    Unable to endure this abuse any longer, the last conscious sound she heard was the Captain's laughter and an indistinct inner tearing sound.  Death was welcome …

    In a dim crowded room behind one of the two-way mirrors, the Director smiled in satisfaction and made a cutting motion with his hand to the cameraman.

    Candice was jarred to consciousness as the old blue and white Buick traveled quickly up the poorly maintained road.  The seat that she was laying on was dirty and cracked, the foam rubber showing through.  The hot wind and bright sunlight coming in through the open windows made her painfully aware that she was naked.  Looking down on the car floor, she saw her sundress lying in a bloody wad on the floor.  Slowly, she began running her hands over her massively swollen and bruised breasts to assess the damage.  While they hurt like hell, she was relieved to find she had not been permanently disfigured.  Letting her hands travel downward, they crossed her bruised midsection where she had been strapped to the table, to gently feel her shaved mound and swollen pussy lips.  She gritted her teeth against the pain to find that her jaw muscles and throat ached horribly from all of the screaming she had done.  Probing gently between her labia, she lifted her hand and found it covered with dried blood and semen.  Again reaching down, but this time behind her, her hand touched many layers of dirt and caked blood.  Unconsciously, she groaned.  Her entire abdomen hurt horribly from her recent torture.

    Hearing sounds from behind him, the driver looked with concern over the back of the front seat into the terrified eyes of the girl.  "Horrible what those soldiers did!  I'm with Mountain Productions.  I was sent to the airport to pick you up.  I was waiting outside when the soldiers dragged you outside wrapped in a blanket and threw you into a car.  Not knowing what else to do, I followed them as they drove you out of town where I watched them dump you and your luggage into a ditch on the side of the road.  Please don't move.  Rest senorita.  We're on our way to my cousin's house.  He's a doctor."

    With vast relief, Candice closed her eyes and again passed into unconsciousness.

     Unseen cameras hidden in the seats caught every detail.

    When she awoke, she didn't know where she was.  Still exhausted, she found that she was lying under a clean cotton sheet in an antique queensized bed.  It felt wonderful!  She felt the warm breeze from the ceiling fan blowing the fresh air through the four open windows around the room.

    The room she was in was white stucco.  In the lefthand corner, she spied her dirty luggage piled into a neat stack.  A large mirror was attached to the wall opposite the foot of the bed.  Below it and between two of the room's three doors, she could see the top of a lovely antique dresser.  To the right of the bed stood an intravenous drip stand and, just beyond it, the room's third door.

    With a start, she suddenly remembered why she was there and all of the horrible things that had recently happened to her.

    Lifting the sheet to look at her bruised naked body, it was apparent that she had been thoroughly washed and cared for.  She could see orange disinfectant stains on her wrists, breasts, crotch and ankles.  A maxi-pad was taped between her legs.  From under it, a catheter tube descended to a bag hanging from the side of the bed.

    Looking to her left on the nightstand, Candice saw a glass with water standing next to a filled pitcher within easy reach.  Lunging in her haste to overcome the thirst that assailed her, she knocked the pitcher onto the floor with a noisy crash.  Gratefully, she gulped the water from the glass and then looked mournfully at the mess she had made.  A few moments later, the door opened and a middleaged man and woman rushed in.  In addition to his other clothing, the man wore a white lab coat and had a stethoscope hanging from his neck.  The woman was dressed as a nurse.

    With a barely audible "tsch tsch tsch", the woman stooped down and began picking up the shards of glass from the broken pitcher and then left to retrieve a broom and mop.

    With a squeaky grunt, Candice tried to apologize for the breakage.

    "Please don't worry about the pitcher and don’t talk", said the man in a kindly voice.  "I am Dr. Jesus Interiano.  That was my wife Martha.  You have been asleep for well over a day.  Now, don't try to speak.  You must give your throat time to heal.  You need rest.  Are you hungry?"  To a hasty nod, the Doctor said, "My wife will bring it up right away.  Just eat and rest.  I will be up in a few minutes to take a look at you."  Tears welled up in Candice's eyes in gratitude as the Doctor left.

    Within a few minutes, Martha came back in, helped her to sit painfully up, and placed a tray of loose warm porridge, milk, and juice before her.  "I'll be back in a few minutes to get the tray, clean up, and to help you to go to the bathroom."  Candice smiled her thanks to the kind woman who soon departed.

    Though she grimaced in pain with each swallow, within minutes, she had gobbled down everything before her.  Contentedly, she leaned back and relaxed.

    Fifteen minutes later, Martha returned.  In addition to a mop and broom, she also carried a pair of rubber gloves and an enema bag, which Candice eyed unhappily.  After quickly and efficiently cleaning up the mess that she had made, she moved the tray off onto the floor next to the door, and made her patient slide down and raise her knees.  Martha next removed the pad and catheter, and wheeled the I.V. stand to the foot of the bed.

    By way of explanation for what was about to occur, Martha told her, "My husband doesn't want you to pass a hard bowel movement until you have had a few days to heal."

    Opening one of the other doors to reveal a bathroom, Candice watched as Martha put on rubber gloves and went about the task of preparing the enema.  Coming back into the room holding the enema bag upsidedown and a towel, Martha reached into her pocket and removed a small bottle of medicine and a long tube of lubricant that she placed at the foot of the bed near her patient's feet.  She next opened the bottle and poured its contents into the bag.  Finished, she then attached the enema bag cap, tube and nozzle and gave the bag a few quick swirls.  A small metal clamp held the tube shut.

    Resting the filled bag against the foot-board, Martha moved around next to Candice, reached under the girl's knees to raise her buttocks, and smoothed the towel beneath her.  She then directed the girl to lay on her side and bend her knees.  Opening the tube of lubricant, the woman next smoothed some clear cream onto the enema nozzle with her left index finger and then held it up to examine it critically for uncovered areas.

    Candice turned her head away as Martha reached between her legs and carefully inserted the nozzle into her injured swollen anus.  Enduring the short sharp pain this caused, Candice watched as Martha hung the enema bag onto the I.V. stand and released the clamp.  Immediately, a rush of warmth filled her colon accompanied by a sharp burning pain.  As she became more and more full, she could feel water trickling down the crease of her buttocks onto the towel.  She became alarmed at the impending mess as Martha helpfully squeezed the bag to expedite the process.  As badly as she’d been hurt, she was nonetheless gratified that she was not completely incontinent.  Desperately she squeezed her damaged sphincter muscle as tight as she could and motioned her distress.

     Martha slipped her fingers gently between the girl's ass cheeks, grabbed the nozzle and pulled it quickly out.  She then helped Candice to get up and waddle to the toilet.

    The subsequent painful release of water from her bowels brought tears to her eyes it felt so good.  Again with help, Candice stood and, selfconsciously leaning against the bathroom wall with her legs spread, letting Martha gently wipe her clean and apply a medicated ointment to and within her anus.  Closing her eyes against the pain, Candice reflected that the medicine being used must surely be effective if it hurt this bad.

    Since she seemed able to stand on her own, Martha also took the opportunity to give her patient a sponge bath.

    Finally finished and exhausted, Candice hobbled back to the bed.  Martha took the enema bag, returned the I.V. stand to its position by the bed, and walked from the room.

    A few minutes later, Candice sleepily heard the Doctor ascend the stairs to come to her room.  As he came in, he smiled at her reassuringly and sat next to her on the bed.

    "Now, let's take a look and see how you're doing", the Doctor Said.  "We must be very careful to prevent infection.  When you arrived, I gave you a shot of antibiotics and took X-rays of your chest and abdomen.  According to the Xrays, nothing is broken."  Reaching forward, he pulled the sheet carefully down until she was completely exposed.  "Please relax.  I'll do my best not to hurt you."

    Carefully, the Doctor examined her swollen bruised breasts, moving them gently from side to side and pressing gently.  "Bloodclots", he explained, "resulting from such massive bruising can be quite dangerous."  Candice closed her eyes against the pain and did her best to relax.

    Moving his hands down, he helped the girl to raise her knees and spread her legs.  Again, very gently, he parted her swollen labia with his left hand to look within.  Making her gasp in painful pleasure, the Doctor moved her swollen clitoris from side to side.  Taking a small pen light from his shirt pocket, he then leaned over to look closely at the abrasions on the rim of her vagina.

    "Well, beyond bruises that I'm sure must hurt horribly, your breasts and genitals do not seem damaged beyond repair; you'll heal."

    Candice looked apprehensively at the doctor as he helped her to turn over so that he could examine her from the rear.  The bruised strips where she had been whipped with the belt were plainly visible on her buttocks and thighs.

    Reaching forward, he parted her ass cheeks gently to look at the stitches around her swollen anus.  Based on his sharp intake of breath, she knew that it looked bad.

    "I had to put in twenty-five stitches to repair your anus and colon.  They will dissolve naturally over time.  The disinfectant cream that my wife applied topically and the antibiotic enema should cause any internal and external damage to heal quickly and cleanly.  In time, you should recover."

    Again, the Doctor helped Candice to turn over and, assisting her to lie on her side, had her painfully open her jaws so that he could examine her throat.

    "Well, those must hurt," commented the Doctor.  "If you're good and don't try to make a sound, you should be able to talk normally in a few days."

    "We're done for now.  Try to get some sleep", said the Doctor.  He pulled the sheet up and gently tucked her in.

    Repeatedly, she awoke screaming from the same nightmare that laughing soldiers were slowly killing her by ripping her vagina and anus apart.  After the third time, the Doctor came in dressed in his robe.

    "Poor girl.  This will help you rest."  Pulling a syringe and ampoule from his pocket, he gave her a sedative.

    Gratefully, she drifted away to unconscious sleep.

    Over the next few weeks, Candice recuperated.  The Doctor came and examined her daily.  As she healed and as the hair on her crotch began to grow back, he had to order her not to scratch herself.  To help, he gave her a tube of medicated ointment to reduce the itching and speed her healing.  As he had told her, her voice was soon back to normal.

    Hearing the tale of her treatment by the soldiers, the Doctor and his wife strongly advised that she forget it had ever happened and to not mention her torture to anyone.  People who did seemed to have this habit of disappearing.  They also strongly advised that she not leave the Country from the same airport at which she had arrived. By way of explanation, they told her quite frankly that the soldiers at the airport probably had not expected her to live through her ordeal and might be worried about reprisals.

    To her worries that her tardiness would cost her the movie part, the Doctor assured her that his cousin Pepe had taken care of everything and that the Director wished her to rest, recuperate, and to come as soon as she was well.

    Three weeks after her horrific arrival, Candice was ready to leave the clinic.  Excellent care plus the resilience of youth helped her to heal quickly.  The bruises on her breasts, crotch and buttocks had completely faded.  To her dismay, she discovered that the muscle around her anus had been permanently stretched.  While not incontinent, she would have no trouble with anal sex ever again.

    At her request, the Doctor phoned his cousin Pepe who came to drive her to the film location 150 miles away.  Refusing her offer of money, the Doctor told her not to worry, that Mountain Productions had paid for everything.

    While Pepe loaded her luggage into the car, she said her goodbyes to the Doctor and his wife, and was soon underway.

    As the dust from Pepe's retreating car settled in the distance, the cameraman and Assistant Director stepped from the front door of the Doctor's home.  Had Candice remained, she would have immediately recognized him as one of the men at her audition.

    Distastefully, the Doctor and his wife eyed the unscrupulous pair as they approached.

    Reaching into his dirty coat pocket, the Assistant Director removed an envelope thick with U.S. currency and held it out.

    Reflecting on his own hypocrisy, the Doctor abruptly reached forward and snatched the envelope from the man's hand.  Such travesties as he had just been a part of were all that made it possible for him and his wife to live in modest comfort, and to provide affordable medical services to the regional inhabitants.

    "Martha", said the Doctor with an obvious effort to maintain his composure, "please take the cameraman inside for refreshments.  I would speak privately with Mr. Montalbo."

    Once the two retreated into the house, he turned to the Assistant Director with unconcealed anger.

    "You bastards!" screamed the Doctor.  "That girl almost died because of your sick profession.  This is the worst one yet.  Had you done more damage, do you realize that she probably would have died before I could get her to a hospital?  I've a mind to turn you in and face the consequences rather than see this continue."

    "Spare me Doctor.  Your hollow threats have no meaning," said Mr. Montalbo in a bored tone.  "If I exposed all of the things that you and your wife have been a part to over the years, you two would never see the outside of a prison for the rest of your lives.  Remember that we do have pictures.  In any case, you and your wife would go to jail and all of your patients would languish in your absence. What's the suffering of one individual compared to the health of all those in your care.  Besides, we have the signed contractual rights to do anything we want to the girl, short of killing her, just so long as we provide adequate medical care.  And that, my dear Doctor, is you."

    "Get your medical bag and luggage," ordered the Assistant Director.  "We have to go soon; your part has only just begun.  The girl will soon need your services once again."

    "Oh God!  What do you have planned for that poor girl now?" asked the Doctor.

    Putting his arm around the Doctor's slumped shoulders, he explained.

    Candice sat in the back seat of the car and looked out at the beautiful landscape.  The ride up the dusty road over the past hour had been uneventful.  Densely forested mountains rose to either side.  All of the windows in the dilapidated car were open against the sun's brutal heat.

    For the short drive, the young actress had chosen to wear a sleeveless cotton dress with an orange floral pattern, white cotton panties and bra, white sandals, and a Yankee baseball cap.  Her passport and a great deal of other incidental junk were in the white handbag at her side.  Her hair was again tied back into a ponytail.

    After fifteen minutes of fruitlessly attempting to engage Pepe in conversation, it became painfully clear from his terse answers that he did not want to talk.  For some reason, she had the impression that he was very nervous about something.  Perhaps, she reflected, it was because of the circumstances of their first meeting.

    Respecting his silence, Candice relaxed back into the seat and tried to enjoy the drive.

    The first clue that anything was amiss was the steady stream of tense expletives coming from Pepe's lips.  Looking ahead through the cracked windshield, Candice could clearly make out the military roadblock ahead.

    Terrified, as much because of Pepe's reaction as her past torture, she gazed with mounting fear as their car slowly approached.  Once close enough for her to examine these soldiers in greater detail, it became apparent, both from their attitude and disheveled appearance, that these were not members of the government militia.  However, their widespread formation and automatic weapons, held at the ready, also made it clear that they were prepared to stop the car by any means necessary.  From the car window, Candice counted twelve soldiers and, with some relief, noted that four of these were women.

    Pepe looked back at her in terror.  "Rebels.  Please senorita, don't let them know that you're American."

    Quickly and as discreetly as possible, Candice removed her baseball cap and passport from her handbag and jammed them into the crack between the seat cushion and backrest.

    "Halto!" commanded a male Rebel who stepped forward into the path of the moving car with his Russian AK47 cradled in his arms.

    With a loud screech from worn brakes, the car came to an abrupt stop.  Quickly, the Rebels moved in to surround the car pointing their rifles menacingly.

    "Get out and keep your hands where they can be seen," ordered the same man.

    Both apprehensively opened their car doors and did as instructed.  The Rebels quickly herded them at gunpoint to a position ten yards from the driver's door.

    Gesturing with his machine gun, a different Rebel commanded, "Put your hands behind your head and don't move."  Standing next to the car facing outward into the glaring sun, they again did their best to follow instructions.

    Reaching into the car to get the keys, one of the Rebels opened the car trunk.  Others went through the car looking for anything useful.  Candice heard what she assumed was her purse being opened and dumped onto the ground.

    Moments later, Candice saw one of the females approach the Rebel who had initially stopped their car holding a piece of paper out in front of her.  Gazing quickly at the paper as the woman walked by, Candice recognized the letter, addressed to her old roommate in New York, which had been in her purse.  The man took the offered document and came to stand in front of her.

    "So, you're American," he said with a reasonably good American accent.

    "No senor," Pepe immediately spoke up.  "I'm Pepe and this is my sister Candice.  We're on our way to visit relatives in Atitlan."

    Just then one of the Rebels going through the car shouted, "Miguel, Miquel."

    All three looked at the Rebel soldier inside the car waving Candice's blue U.S. passport triumphantly outside the backseat door.  Moving forward to take the passport and then return, Miguel held the passport picture next to Candice's face.

    Reaching forward with his left hand to grip her left earlobe, Miguel wrenched the girl painfully down to her knees and then forced her to press her face into the dirt.

    "So," Miguel said while brutally twisting her ear, "are you from the Estados Unidos?"

    "YES!" Candice screamed in pain and terror.  "Please don't hurt me."

    At that moment, apparently overcome with terror from his duplicity, Pepe chose to try and make a break to freedom.  Twenty strides and as many bullets later, he lay in a bloody heap on the ground.

    Candice screamed, first in terror at the gunfire and then in horror for her late companion's meaningless death.

    Lifting her to her feet by her ear, Miguel grabbed her by the shoulders, turned her around and shoved her viciously against the hot car hood.  The other Rebels gathered closely around the two.  Following Miguel's terse orders, her luggage was brought forward and placed onto the hood in front of her so that he could search it.

    Looking at two of the women in his squad, Miguel ordered, "Lucinda, Wanda, strip this capitalist bitch!  Ricco, go cut a pole strong enough to bring our guest back to camp."

    The women handed their rifles to nearby compatriots and moved behind their captive.  Ricco obediently jogged off into the surrounding forest.

    Tears of terror and humiliation began to stream down Candice's face as the Rebel named Wanda grabbed her left shoulder, lowered the zipper on her dress, and then ripped it completely open down the back.

    Yanking her painfully around by the ponytail so that Candice now stood facing the Rebel assemblage, Wanda and Lucinda each grabbed one of their captive's dress shoulders and swiftly yanked the dress from her body.  Callously, Lucinda threw the ruined garment to the jeering circle of onlookers.

    Now standing under the hot sun in only her bra, panties and sandals, Candice made a futile attempt to break away from her attackers.  Her long hair was undoing as Lucinda quickly brought her to a painful halt.

    One of the male Rebels then stepped forward to help with their struggling captive.  Reaching forward, he placed his left hand firmly on Candice's upper chest for leverage as he grabbed the narrow strap between her breasts and painfully ripped off the young starlet's bra.

    Launching her small fists with desperate fury, Candice smashed Lucinda in the nose causing her to release the grip on her ponytail.  Momentarily free, she again attempted to run, but was brought to a halt, screaming in agony, as the male Rebels in front of her grabbed the entire end of her exposed left breast and yanked her off balance.  Frantically, she attempted to pry the man's vicelike left hand loose. 

    Without noticeable effort, he dragged the struggling girl closer and spun her around backwards into his chest.  Quickly, he reached up with his right hand to grip the end of her other breast and, from this modified bearhug, effectively immobilized his captive by yanking both breasts up and backwards thereby lifting the screaming girl from the ground.

    “Yahhhhh!” she screamed in agony.  The pain from her tortured breasts was so intense that she was completely unaware of which Rebel it was who finally ripped the panties from her dangling body to expose the short downy triangle between her legs.

    A horrible screech erupted from their dangling victim as Lucinda, blood streaming from her nose, yanked the girl’s right leg up and viciously plunged four filthy fingers on her right hand into the helpless starlet's gaping pussy.   Dropping the leg, she then carefully placed her left hand against her victim's firm belly while at the same time pulling with all her strength against the tender skin surrounding her right hand.  With obvious satisfaction, she listened as piercing screams rewarded her efforts; she would teach this American bitch not to bloody her nose!

    "YOU’RE KILLING ME!" Candice repeatedly screamed, certain that her pussy was going to be ripped.

    The Rebel named Ricco, hearing the screams and not wanting to miss the fun, returned at a run carrying a freshly cut tenfoot sapling denuded of branches. 

    Meanwhile, Miguel, finding an extralarge can of hair removal foam within Candice's bags, lifted it free and shoved the suitcases off of the car hood.

    "Bring her here," Miguel bellowed.

    Only too happy to comply, Rebels grabbed Candice's ankles and hands, then lifted and deposited her, spreadeagled, across the burning hot hood of the car.

    Unable to maintain his grip throughout this maneuver, the Rebel suspending Candice by her breasts was forced to release her.  Deep red and white wrinkled indentations covered her tits where they had been crushed.  However, the intense relief Candice felt from being released was soon replaced.

    "IT’S BURNING ME!" screamed Candice, as the burning hot car hood penetrated her back, buttocks, and legs.  In response, the Rebels held her down more firmly.  Those surrounding her laughed as she frantically bounced and strained to lift her body from the hot metal.

    Meanwhile, Lucinda, who still had her hand deeply embedded inside the girl's abused slit, began digging her thumbnail brutally into her victim's clitoris.  Candice bucked against the restraining hands and screamed in pain from this new torture.

    "STOP, OH STOP, IT BURNS!" begged the poor girl.  Her pleas went unheeded.

    "Lucinda, stop," commanded Miguel.

    With a final dig of her thumbnail that gouged side of Candice’s clitoris, Lucinda reluctantly pulled her hand from her victim’s vagina with a sucking sound and backed away to staunch the bleeding from her nose.  Red bloody streaks covered the sides of her right hand and thumb.

    "Tie her for carrying," ordered Miguel.

    Quickly, three short pieces of leather cord were produced.  One was used to tie the girl's wrists, the next her ankles.  The Rebels then made the girl raise her legs perpendicular from her body so that the third and shortest piece could be tied to link her wrists and ankles approximately two feet apart.  Secured in this way, Candice felt helplessly exposed.

    As a last step, Rico moved forward and ran the pole that he had just cut between her arms and legs.

    The young actress felt the blood rush to her head as Ricco and the Rebel who had crushed her tits lifted the pole so that she dangled helplessly below it.  Even in this awkward position, she was still grateful at being removed from the hot car hood.

    Miguel captured Candice’s attention as he knelt to her right side holding the can of hair removal foam out in front of him.  Because she had expected to be abroad for many months, she had purchased the large economy-sized bottles. 

    With a feeling of sickening terror, she listened as Miguel translated the instructions and related cautions on the can for the entertainment of the jeering Rebels.  He then shook the can and began applying the foam beginning at her wrists and descending in a wide line down to her armpits.  Next, he squirted large dollops of foam onto both of her breasts and navel, and began slowly spreading the foam into a halfinch layer covering her entire front upper torso.

    With obvious satisfaction, he next turned his attention to the exposed bloody cleft between Candice's legs.  Placing his left hand on the inside of the girl's left knee, he wedged her legs painfully open using his elbow and squirted a large blob of foam onto her crotch and between her tender labia.  Using the side of the bottle, he gently smoothed the bubbles into her narrow curls.

    Candice gasped in fear as she felt the end of the 3” diameter bottle being pressed into the opening to her vagina.

    "Please no!," Candice whimpered.

    With a smile, Miguel slid his hand down to the end of the large bottle and twisted it slowly and viciously in.   Evidence of the internal damage inflicted by the protruding nozzle soon appeared as bloodstreaked white foam squirted around the sides of the protruding cylinder bottom.  Screaming in agony, Candice twisted against her bonds and contracted her vaginal muscles violently as she tried to dislodge the wide metal cylinder from her pussy, but to no avail.  Miguel held the bottle in place until the foam subsided and then pulled it slowly out with a sucking pop.

    Throwing the spent bottle aside, he scooped up the excess foam piled on the ground beneath her and smoothed it over the starlet's ass, between her cheeks, up her legs and, finally, over her back.  Finished, the only parts not covered with foam were her head, hands, and feet.  The corrosive foam, never meant for tender tissue, soon began having the burning effect promised on the can label.  As a final touch, Miguel used her panties and a strip torn from her ruined dress to gag his foamcovered captive.

    Finished for the moment, Miguel stood and issued orders to the group to get anything they wanted and load the rest of the stuff back into the car.  After quickly doing as instructed, one of the Rebels drove the car off of the road and into the underbrush where it was totally concealed.

    The Rebels then formed a line, their captive hanging from the pole supported in the middle of the squad, and moved into the surrounding forest.

    The next two hours were a mind-numbing horror for Candice.  As the corrosive foam dried, it created a burning itching sensation that was maddening.  Her abdomen cramped in waves of sickening pain.  Though able to occasionally relieve the pressure of the cord around her wrists by grabbing the pole above her, she soon lost feeling in her hands and feet.  The random scrapes from passing plants and the local insect life added injury to the insult that had already been done to her body.

    Finally, the Rebels arrived at their camp.

    From her hanging perspective, all that Candice could initially see was that they had arrived in a clearing near the base of a hill next to a stream.  Camouflage netting strung above the clearing between the trees let diffuse light trickle downward.  Two of the Rebels quickly moved forward and disappeared behind some bushes concealing the entrance to a cave.  The tranquil sounds of the small stream moving swiftly nearby did little to assuage Candice's mounting fear.

     The two Rebels who had been carrying her gratefully dropped the pole from their shoulders depositing her rudely in the dirt near a buried fire-pit.  Drawing a knife from his belt, one of the two cut the cords securing her wrists and ankles and removed her gag.

    Candice was suddenly startled by the muffled, but clearly discernable, sounds of women screaming within the cave.  Seconds later, the screams ceased.  Aside from a few hasty remarks to one another and random chuckling, her hosts gave no other evidence of having heard anything out of the ordinary.

    While most of the rebels went about their various tasks, Candice began to wiggle and stretch, trying to restore circulation to her painfully tingling limbs.  More than once, she cringed in pain from the damage done to pussy.  Deep raw abrasions were clearly visible where the cords had bitten into her wrists and ankles.  The foam covering her body had dried to a filthy crust.

    The two Rebels emerging from the cave captured Candice’s attention.  In their hands they carried longhandled wooden brushes and bars of soap.  Grabbing her under the arms, they dragged her down the embankment into the stream where they first forced their victim to pee and shit, then proceeded to scrub her clean.

    Candice had no hair anywhere below her neck. The course bristles, applied with focused brutality to her sensitive chemically burned flesh, left her scratched and, in spots, bleeding.  In particular, they focused on her breasts, buttocks and crotch, which became super-sensitized.  The tough bristles abraded her clitoris and nipples causing them to become bright red and abnormally swollen.

   Though desperate to escape the ordeal, all that Candice could do was accept the abuse and cry.  Escape was hopeless given the size of her captors and her weakened state.  She was also terrified of failing and subsequent punishment.

   She watched in growing apprehension as one of the men reached within his pants pocket and withdrew a roll of leather cord.  He dunked it below the water and began slowly working it between his hands to stretch it out.  Although it had started at around 10’ in length, now it was twice that.

    With an evil glint in his eyes, he proceeded to cut a four-foot length and to make a small slipknot in one end of the cord.  He then put his index finger and thumb of his right hand through the loop.  Staring at her swollen clitoris protruding from between her legs like a small penis, he smiled as the look of terrified comprehension passed across the beautiful girl’s face. 

    “No!  Oh please no!” she begged, as the man behind her seized her by both of her arms and held her in place.  Tears streamed anew from her eyes. 

   “Aieeeee!” she gasped as the man in front of her reached out and grabbed her clit.  Because that nub of flesh was wet and slippery, he grabbed it very hard as he stretched it outward from between her legs.  He then slipped the cord over the end and cinched it tight.  Next he wrapped the cord around her most sensitive spot three times and tied it off in a knot.  The blood trapped in the tip of her clitoris turned it dark red.  The cord hung lewdly like the string of a massive tampon from between her legs. 

   “Please take it off!  It’s killing me!” she screamed.  Desperately but futilely she kicked out in the thigh-deep water.

   Smiling at her resistance, he wrapped the cord dangling between her legs around his left hand and then pinched the tip of her clitoris brutally between the tip of his thumb and the second knuckle of his index finger.

   “Nooooo! Stoppppp!” she screamed and cried repeatedly.  Only when she stopped screaming exhausted and hoarse did he release his tortuous grip.  Muscles shaking, she hung exhausted in her captor’s arms.  She stared downwards between strands of damp blond hair at the short cord stretching down-river, secured by the nub of tortured flesh between her legs.  The calm motion of the water passing between her thighs blended with the throbbing from her tortured clit, creating a moment of almost hypnotic peace.  The splash of movement and sway of the remainder of the leather cord made her ominously aware that they were not done.

       As he had done with her clit, the rebel soldier in front of her next grabbed her swollen left nipple and pulled it outward.  Placing a damp leather loop an inch up at the base of her stretched nipple, he cinched the slipknot tight, wrapped the leather a few times around her nipple, cut the leather cord to 6’ length and tied it off.  Soon, her other nipple was similarly tethered.  The rebel in front of her then grabbed the three dangling cords and led her out of the stream and back towards the camp.  To her surprise though, they didn’t stop there.  One of the rebels stooped briefly to pick up a coil of rope, large satchel, and a 14” long diameter hardwood cone that had been smoothed and rounded on one end.  Its obviously phallic shape terrified her since it was easily 1” in diameter at its rounded tip.  From that end down to the middle of the stick, it rapidly flaired to perhaps 4”.  From that midpoint, it was cut in so that the other end formed a 7” long 2”diameter peg.  All rebel eyes followed the trio as they proceeded into the surrounding forest.

    Candice knew that when wet leather dried, it shrank.  Terrified, she was certain that they intended to crush off her nipples and clitoris.  Unfortunately, she was wrong.  Soon, she began to understand what kind of twisted animals were holding her captive. 

    Whimpering in fear, Candice was taken to a tree with smooth though rough bark and a 2’ diameter trunk.  Four 2” diameter holes had been bored in a vertical line into the trunk angled in and down at a 45 degree angle.  With the rope, they then tied her hands securely overhead to a stout low-hanging branch a foot over her head and close to the trunk where it was strongest.  The rebels then made her stand with her back to the tree and spread her legs.  The hard bark scraped roughly into her back and ass.  Into the hole in the tree just below her swollen pussy, the Rebel now wedged the 14” stick where it protruded upward obscenely for 8”.  

     From the satchel, one of the rebels next pulled out a pair of rubber gloves, a tin of lard, a small sack of fresh orange jabenero peppers and a stone mortar and pestle.  After putting on the gloves, he smashed a few of the peppers in the mortar, added a dollop of lard and stirred the fiery mixture together. 

     Dipping his gloved fingers into the mortar, the Rebel slathered the cone-shaped end of the stick then placed a huge dollop between Candice’s ass cheeks, which he then smoothed around and inside her asshole. 

    “Take them out, you’re burning me!!!” Candice screamed as the pain continued to mount causing her to jump and pull desperately to free her hands.  The soldier seemed to enjoy her dance of pain plunging two of his fingers in and out of her ass.  Her sphincter muscle tried to spasm shut but was pried continually open as he worked the fiery lubricant in. 

     “NO!  STOP!” Candice begged.  Desperately and futilely, she struggled to hold herself aloft as the two rebels grabbed her legs, lifted her and slowly impaled her ass downward onto the greased wooden cone.                “AYIEEEEE!” Candice screamed.  The pain from the peppers on the sensitive rectal tissue coupled with having her asshole violently pried open caused her to squirm and flail her legs against the tree trunk, which only forced her to slide further and further down until her back rested against the tree.  Rivulets of blood streaked down the tree trunk and the back of her legs, The Rebels then grabbed her ankles, pulled them behind the tree to either side and tied her ankles loosely together.  This forced her ass to descend an additional half-inch onto the cone eliciting even more screams.  From this awkward position, she could only relax by supporting her weight on her asshole and the balls of her feet.  This position also forced her to thrust her pelvis lewdly forward. 

     To keep their prisoner from biting off her tongue or rendering herself unconscious by smashing the back of her head against the tree, the soldiers next placed an 8” rolled piece of hard leather between her teeth where a rope secured it snugly behind the tree immobilizing her head.  Next, one of the rebels grabbed the end of the overhead branch bending it downward so that its end was parallel to her body. 

     “Nooooomph!” she mumbled wide-eyed, realizing what the rebels intended.

     While one Rebel held the branch bent under tension, the other tied the three cords hanging from the most sensitive areas of her body a foot from the branch end.  Slowly, they released the tension on the branch.

     “AYIEEEEE! STOP! STOP! STOP!” Candice screamed and screamed as her nipples and clitoris were stretched further and further from her body.  Unconsciously, she arched her back away from the tree trying to relieve the brutal tension.  This caused her to lose her footing sending gales of pain up her ass.  The resulting bobbing of the branch as she worked to regain her balance only increased the torture.  Candice was certain that her clitoris, furthest away from the end of the branch where it was attached, would soon be torn off.  Sobbing and gasping for air, she tried in vain to look down between her cone-shaped distended breasts to the angry red end of her clit.  It and the surrounding skin soon extended 4” inches from the splayed lips where it usually hid.  Warm air caressed the interior of her vagina as her helpless position caused it to gape open.

     Plucking the leather cords to test their tension, the two rebels were satisfied by the taut hum and resultant grunts of pain from their victim.  As a final touch, the rebel slathered the peppered lard over nipples, pussy lips, and rim of her vagina carefully avoiding the leather so that it wouldn’t slip off.  This reduced the risk of the girl’s nipples and clitoris being torn off and increased the pain.  Both walked away to get dinner, leaving the beautiful starlet to suffer in the dark.

     As the leather dried and contracted, Candice’s nipples and clit were stretched further intensifying the pain beyond anything previously imagined. 

     “Please free me!” Candice tried to beg around her gag to any Rebel within hearing distance.  “I’ll give you anything, do anything.”

     Her grunted pleas were greeted by remote laughter. 

     After an hour, Miguel finally came over, working pestle into the mortar in his hands.  “So, you capitalist bitch, are you having fun yet?” he inquired. 

     Incoherent with pain, she could not answer.  Sweat covered her straining body.

     “See if you think this is fun then” said Miguel ominously.

     Using the end of the pestle, a three-inch diameter piece of tapered granite, he began painting her distended nipples and clitoris with fresh jabenero paste. 

     Wide-eyed with renewed burning pain, Candice shook in helpless immobility as she watched the rebel leader get down on one knee, dip a huge glob of paste onto the end of the pestle and shove it with a rapid twisting motion into the depths of her vagina to coat her swollen cervix. 

     “Nooooooo, please stop!” Candice screamed around her gag.  “You’re killing me!”  It was like a burning coal had been placed deep inside her pussy. 

     Coming over to participate in the fun, the other rebels stopped what they were doing and gathered around, some holding fiery brands for light, jeering and alternately rubbing and pinching the tortured areas of the beautiful starlet’s body. 

    Whimpering in pain and watching wide-eyed in renewed terror, Candice saw one of the rebels distributing short lengths of narrow leather straps, perhaps 1/8 inch wide, to each Rebel standing around her.  Nor was her terror unjustified.

     Jostling each other for position, they all began whipping the narrow strips of leather brutally from her shoulders down.  Because of the shortness of the leather straps, they did not break her skin.  The worst blows, greeted by appreciative cheers from the rebels, smacked onto her distended nipples or clitoris, or upward with vicious accuracy deeply into her spread labia to strike the rim of her vagina.  Angry red welts soon crisscrossed the starlet’s tender white body.  The rebel Lucinda, now sporting black eyes from Candice’s earlier blow to her nose, did her best to help the branch rip off their attached bits of flesh by aiming her strap at the soles of her victim’s feet forcing the starlet to repeatedly lose her balance.  Fresh blood soon coursed down the tree from her asshole as the swollen ring of flesh and muscle was pried even further open.

   Candice’s torture went on and on.  Sometimes the blows of the strips of leather came fast and furious, stopping just before she lost consciousness.  Other times, many minutes went by between blows.  At least three or four times, Candice felt her body drenched with cold water from the stream, shocking her to renewed awareness.  One positive effect of this was that the awful pressure from the leather cords attached to her nipples and clit somewhat diminished.  However, the water on her body also made the strips of leather striking her heavier, causing more pain and damage.  Finally, bloody and covered in welts, she found the oblivion of unconsciousness.

     From behind two thick bushes that camouflaged their positions, cameramen arose though the filming continued.  While one of the fake Rebels held the branch to release the tension, Miguel pulled a knife and cut the attached cords.  One of the other participants in this grisly affair then ignited a flashlight so that Miguel could then carefully cut the blood-drenched leather from the starlet’s nipples and clit.  The Rebels then lifted the starlet off the cone penetrating her ass.  Fresh blood and shit dribbled downward from her gaping asshole.

     Another hour and Miguel was certain that the girl’s clit or nipples would have come off.  He had seen it before.  Over the past two years though, his troop had become quite deft at their trade.  Four of the men moved forward to carry their victim back into the clearing where they deposited her on a piece of plywood resting atop wooden legs.