Delicia Ch. 04

There remained one man. Delicia had not forgotten him, but she couldn't take anymore. She felt like she just couldn't go on. She lay there sobbing and shaking her head no, no, no, and mumbled, "No more, nnnnnn! Please, Jerome, I've had enough!"

The fourth man had no interest in ropes and began by untangling her from them.

He stood, stooped over her, freeing her, then he stood upright and watched her free of her bondage, curl into a fetal position and cover her face with her hands and sob. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity, did she think he was going to just leave, he wondered.

"Get up, slut," he said in a very calm and monotone voice.

Delicia felt utter exhaustion and wasn't sure she actually had the strength to get to a standing position. She brought her hands away from her face and gently hugged her aching tits.

"Uhh! please, mister, just give me a minute."

He nodded down at her, not that she could see, but he answered, "Okay, one minute. That's it."

Barry had been stroking his way back to an erection all this time, and now he was in shape to have another go at her. He asked the last man, "You sure you don't want to go double on her? Man, I got a fucking wicked hard-on here, I need to do her some more damage."

But the last man was firm. He just shook his head no as he faced down Barry.

Then came the voice of Jerome over the speaker, "Get up, Delicia. Your minute is up!"

Delicia nodded, and shifted her weight and got to all fours, hands and knees on the ground and ass up like the bitch she was now. The last man could see her arms shaking, she was struggling just to maintain a little bitch doggy stance and he complained, "Goddammit, she's spent! She's just a used up piece of whore meat!"

Jerome came over the speaker again, "Delicia, bitch! Stand up!"

Delicia tucked her legs in and got her footing and stood, but her legs wobbled and she reeled to her right before she managed to steady herself. The fourth man came around and stood in front of her. For the first time, she looked into his face at close range.

Delicia didn't have good eyesight. She needed contacts, and she had not been using them for months. She had gotten by with poor vision, but it had so many disadvantages.

She looked at him and realized she knew him from somewhere.

"Do you know who I am, Delicia," he asked, again in a cold, soft monotone.

She nodded, and said, "Alberto."

He was yet another of Delicia's old cyber buddies. In the early days of her cyber sex habit, he had been a regular. But he stopped logging on to cyber with her long before Delicia got caught up on Jerome's trap, and Delicia had forgotten about him. She wanted to remember something else about him, but there had been so many and her memory was never very good.

With all the abuse and isolation Delicia had endured in the last year, her memory was much worse now. She often went into depressions because she couldn't even remember the faces of her children.

"You remember what I like, puta?" Alberto asked.

Delicia was apprehensive. She was afraid to say she didn't remember, but it would be worse to guess wrong, so she apologized and said, "I'm sorry, I have a bad memory."

Alberto reached up and pulled on her bottom lip, "Oh? That's okay. I am impressed you remember my name, you who fuck so many men."

He let go of her lip and stepped away from her. He walked around her, and Delicia's back stiffened when he walked behind her, as she expected to be slapped. She had learned that bad men liked to surprise her that way, hit her when she could not see it coming.

But he did not hit her. He just walked around, then faced her once more. And said, "Go to the toilet."

Delicia obeyed, thought of the toilet. She had gone through a lot of toilet sex lately. She didn't like it, but she found it much more tolerable than the rope games. She would rather eat shit.

Alberto followed behind her, but Delicia dared not look back. When she faced the toilet, she stood there waiting.

"Kneel in front of the toilet, puta," he said.

She knelt and tried to remember where Alberto had said he was from, or if he had ever mentioned it. She rarely encountered another latino here.

He gripped her head with both hands and used her body to balance himself as he also came to a kneeling position. He knelt behind her and embraced her, gently caressing her face and tits and stomach, then her pussy.

His touch was so gentle that Delicia found it comforting. She wanted to tear up for a totally different reason. Men never touched her like this anymore.

He the played with her hair, tossing it forward over her face, combing it forward with his fingers, then she felt his lips, he was kissing the nape of her neck while his palms pressed into her hair covered face.

"Eres un angel," he whispered, (you're an angel), "encarcelada en el infierno." (imprisoned in hell)

Delicia's lips quivered and she thought, Spanish! A code, and he's whispering. She reached for hope, "Bienes a liberarme?" (you come to free me?)

But he chuckled, and said, "No."

Delicia felt that fleeting moment of hope crash, but she was so desperate to hang onto it, she persisted, "Hara lo que quieras, para siempre, si me sacas de aqui." (I would do whatever you want, forever, I you get me out of here.)

Alberto whispered back, "Tu escojisteis esta, puta!" (you chose this, whore.)

He released her and stood again and shuffled to the side of the toilet. "put your head in the toilet and lap at the water like a little pussy, PUTA!"

Delicia felt hope burn off like so much gasoline. She leaned forward, robotic, stuck out her tongue and lapped, drinking like a kitten from the toilet water.

And as she did so, Alberto began to relieve himself. He pissed on her head and the pissed flowed down her hair, combed forward, into the water. She realized he combed her head forward to make it easier for him to direct the path of his urine. And he gently spoke, "Keep drinking, puta."

She kept drinking.

With his bladder relieved, Alberto put down the seat, sat on the toilet and snapped his fingers, and pointed at his cock. Understood, Delicia took his cock into her mouth. And for the next half hour, sucked him until he reached the point of boiling climax.

He pulled out, and as he spurted cum on her face and hair, he used his cock like a spatula to smear it around, and he asked her, "Que eres, mami?" (What are you, mama?)

And Delicia answered what she knew he wanted to hear and what in fact she was, "Soy puta, soy puta." (I'm a whore. I'm a whore.)

The others watched Alberto finish, he looked up at them and pushed her back so that he could stand. He again ordered her to bow her head into the toilet, and invited them to piss on her.

They gathered around, not aiming for the toilet. They directed streams of urine at her head and back and Delicia licked, lapping up contaminated water out of the toilet bowl.

After the last of the urine streams stopped. She stopped. But Alberto told her to keep drinking, and so she did.