Longarm #426 by Tabor Evans

Author:Tabor Evans
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2014-04-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

“And if I didn’t swallow every drop,” Claudia continued with her story, “he would use a braided leather quirt to spank my bare bottom for every drop I did not swallow. Somehow, he claimed to be able to count the drops.” She gave a slow, weary sigh. “That first year of our marriage, I went around with a very sore ass—I’ll tell you that right now, Longarm!”

“Jesus.” Longarm studied for a time on all that Claudia had told him, and then he rolled his cigar around between his lips and said, “So, how did this young Lorca fella come into the picture?”

Claudia sipped her coffee. “The don performed his best sexually when I was young,” she said, swallowing. “Over the past couple of years, he has lost his virility. Sometimes it takes quite a bit of manipulating on my part to get him to spend his wretched seed, though I don’t mind at all that he no longer spurts very much. But it makes him frustrated. And when he gets frustrated, he gets angry.”

“What a sick old bastard,” Longarm said, reaching for the coffeepot.

In stunned silence, he refilled Claudia’s cup and then his own, and as he set the pot back onto its rock, Claudia said, “When my body filled out and I became a woman, the don’s problems seemed to grow. Sadly, however, so too did his desire for me grow. Sometimes he would make me strip very slowly before him, by the crackling hearth in his sleeping quarters. By the time I was completely naked, he would be sobbing like a baby and manipulating his old pecker to try to make it hard.

“Even when I helped with my fingers and mouth, I couldn’t get that wizened old worm to get any stiffer than a banana slug. This frustrated the don no end, and the beatings grew worse and worse. Finally, he became so frustrated by my growing beauty and allure, and his own dwindling virility, that he said he couldn’t stand to have me around any longer. So he offered to sell me to Señor Lorca and his father, Don Francisco Lorca, for the tidy sum of a half-interest in one of Don Lorca’s several gold mines.”

“So you were running away when Sandoval caught up to you?”

“Sí.” Claudia brushed a fist across her nose. “I lit out the first chance I got. I just threw a few things into some saddlebags—some food and clothes, camping supplies—and I tied a bedroll to the saddle. And I left under cover of darkness. Sandoval and his banditos caught me that morning.”

“Where were you heading?”

“To where my parents now live, in the northern foothills of the Sierra Madre. My stepfather and Don Cordova had a falling out, and the don kicked my stepfather and mother and sisters and brothers off the hacienda. My stepfather resettled on his family’s land and went back to catching wild horses and breaking them for the local Rurale troupe.”

Claudia glanced at Longarm, turning her mouth corners down with chagrin.

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