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Andrew Roller Presents
NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS
in
A Taste For Torture
Chapter Eight
Ernesto was a customs official. It was his job to watch the people
come and go. Occasionally he even stopped them, and asked to search their
bags. But it was hot and he did not like having to do that.
He gazed at the two pilots and the two other men, in business suits,
who were coming down the airport hallway from the plane that had just
landed. It was a big, gleaming plane from America. TWA. Ernesto liked
the red in the TWA logo. It reminded him of a freshly slaughtered chicken,
ready for the spit over the fire.
Gazing through tired, half-lidded eyes, Ernesto looked at the women
from the flight. There were five of them. Their stockings were pulled
tight upon their legs. But if one looked closely, and Ernesto did not look
closely for he was tired from sitting all day in the heat, one would have
seen that their stockings had multiple runs in them, and were frayed at
the knees. They did not wear caps, as all the other flight attendants did.
And their clothing was rumpled, as if it had laid for several hours on the
floor, which it in fact had, on the airplane. Ernesto did not notice how the
two pilots wore uniforms that were starched and crisp, while the two men
walking behind them, in business suits, wore clothing that looked as if it
had been to a New YearÕs Eve party.
However Krull, standing just beyond the counter of the customs
official, did notice. He cursed what he saw, silently, under his breath.
ÒIf she is not a virgin anymore, I will kill myself,Ó Krull muttered.
ÒI would be too ashamed to admit to the wise man that I selected a whore
to be sacrificed.Ó
Jacinta saw Krull standing behind the customs official. Her face
brightened, but at the same time she blushed. Krull looked magnificent.
He wore a fine suit, an Armani suit, and with his broad shoulders and his
shaggy, primitive haircut it made him look like a civilized Tarzan, a man
stepping briefly from the jungle before retreating back into it with his
newfound Jane. Jacinta opened her arms. She rushed past the customs
official, who made no movement to stop her. She threw herself against
Krull. The man allowed her to hug him but then he pushed her back.
Quietly, before the others got close enough to hear, he asked her the
question:
ÒAre you still a virgin?Ó Krull said to Jacinta.
ÒOh!Ó Jacinta gasped. She was stunned by his blunt manner, by his
brusqueness, by the way he pushed her back and yet held her, gripping her
arms, as if he might pick her up and throw her all the way back to America
if she wasnÕt pure anymore.
ÒYes!Ó Jacinta gasped. She felt her young breasts rise and fall in her
blouse. Her blazer, buttoned but wrinkled, rose and fell with her breasts.
ÒThen why are you...?Ó Krull asked. He looked at her clothing.
ÒWe.. partied on the plane,Ó Jacinta said. ÒBut I did not... do it. You
can check me to make sure.Ó She thought about telling him of her second
encounter with the male penis, in her bottom, but Jacob had not cum in her
and she considered him an old goat anyway. So she said nothing.
ÒVery well,Ó Krull said. ÒI will take you at your word. But I will ask
Kyla also, when the others are not present, and I expect her answer to be
as truthful as yours.Ó His eyes glittered. Jacinta shivered. His grip was
tight on her arms.
ÒWhat are you going to do if IÕm lying, sacrifice me?Ó Jacinta asked
in a quavering voice.
ÒThere are slow ways and fast ways to sacrifice a person,Ó Krull
answered. Jacinta trembled.
The party was over and the group, which had been so intimate on the
plane, now broke up. Steve checked into the hotel where John had stayed,
with the two senoritas. But he went to a room on the second floor, not the
third, and he took Adele and Pam with him. They were not seen again for
several days, except by room service, which made regular deliveries.
Jacob went to the first floor. Glenda, feeling sorry for him, went
with him. And Krull, finding himself with Kyla and Jacinta, went to the
third floor, and took a room next to JohnÕs. They met that evening, at the
cafe down the street. Together they shared a table and afterward Krull
took the three of them to see the old Indian.
ÒBy contributing your blood to our soil, you will rescue us,Ó the
ancient man told Jacinta. She shivered as she listened to him. She held
KylaÕs hand. She could feel the trembling of KylaÕs fingers. ÒFor many
months now, it has not rained,Ó the old Indian told Jacinta. ÒIt is time to
propitiate the Almighty. He desires for us to show him our purity. But it
must be a white girl, with blonde hair. This is what our legends say.Ó The
old Indian cleared his throat. He sucked on his pipe of peyote, and then
offered it to Krull, but the young man would not take it. The old Indian
shrugged. He took another puff. Then he continued speaking. ÒIt has been
many years since we engaged in human sacrifice,Ó the old Indian said.
ÒThe authorities have forbidden it. But it must be done, and in the proper
way, or we will never have rain. We will suffocate here, in this dust,
drowned in flies and in squalor. Will you help us?Ó
ÒY- Yes,Ó Jacinta said. Krull looked at her. She was beautiful in the
glow of the scented candles, wearing fresh clothing that she had packed
for the trip. She wore brown explorer boots and a brown felt cap, a
leather vest and a bright red scarf. Her skirt was leather, like her vest,
and under her vest she wore a white blouse.
ÒYou will, of course, have to remove your clothing at the place of
sacrifice,Ó the old Indian told Jacinta. ÒI hope that does not embarrass
you in your virginity.Ó
ÒN- No,Ó Jacinta said, after considering a moment. She still hadnÕt
told Krull of her second experience of the penis, in her bottom, and she
guessed she never would. She looked at Kyla.
ÒYou also,Ó the ancient man said to the brunette.
ÒMe? I- IÕm not being sacrificed,Ó Kyla answered. Jacinta trembled.
She squeezed KylaÕs hand. For the first time Jacinta realized that she was
facing this alone, in the end, even if Kyla did come along. It frightened her
to realize this. At the same time it excited her. She was special. Kyla
would be just an observer.
ÒAll of you will be naked, at the place of sacrifice,Ó the old Indian
said. ÒAs will I. And all the other elders who will be present. We must
approach the Almighty as he made us. We must not put on airs, or hide
ourselves, or pretend to be what we are not. We must go naked to Him who
made us. So that he can judge us and find us as we truly are.Ó
ÒY- Yes,Ó Jacinta heard herself say. And then she gulped, realizing
sheÕd said it. She felt her heart beating in her chest and she wondered
what lay ahead, and what it all really meant.
The old IndianÕs wife laughed as she watched the Americans leave
her house. She did not believe the old tales. She had been educated in
Mexico City, fifty years ago, and she had learned modern things there. She
had returned to the village, and married, and raised a family. Ten children,
who bound her to a life of labor, in the dust of this village, with its tired
old ways and its unscientific beliefs. But she had not forgotten who she
had once been, a long time ago, in Mexico City. She had not let go of that.
And so she laughed, watching the credulous foreigners leave her husband.
He believed, that was enough. And they believed, or wanted to, despite
arriving by a bird with a big red TWA painted on its tail.
ÒYes,Ó Matilda laughed to herself. ÒLet the spoiled foreigners
believe in my husbandÕs ghost stories if they wish to. I will be present at
the sacrifice. It will be entertainment. Rude entertainment, but we do
not have movie houses here, with slasher films to amuse us, or Quentin
Tarantino splatter movies. We have reality. Let that be our entertainment
then. And if foreigners want to come here and share reality with us, then
let them.Ó Ruefully she watched the Americans pass down the dusty
street in their new store-bought clothes. Tomorrow they would become,
perhaps for the first time in their lives, acquainted with the reality she
had been forced to endure for 50 years.
They hiked up the trail. It wound into the dry, dusty mountains. As
Jacinta walked she remembered her days of being a Girl Scout, when she
had gone hiking in the verdant mountains of Vermont. Later, when her
parents moved to L.A., she had lost touch with the green hills back east.
Now she was climbing again, and she enjoyed it. But it would have looked
so much better with some water to nourish the soil.
ÒOnce flowers grew here,Ó the old Indian sighed, climbing beside
Jacinta. There was a long trail of people behind them. All the village
elders, plus other guests, plus a handful of children who dashed along.
There were even several dogs, barking and yapping and running up the trail
and back down it. They panted thirstily.
Krull led the way. He walked with John. The young American man
had misgivings about this. It was both silly and awesome, a blend of the
ridiculous and the sublime. He could not believe that they would really
sacrifice the girl. Surely not with all these people present. He turned to
Krull.
ÒThis is just, like, you know--?Ó John asked.
Krull frowned. ÒLike what?Ó
ÒLike, well, I mean, sheÕs only 14 and--Ó
ÒAll will be done according to the ancient traditions,Ó Krull replied.
ÒYou have my word on that.Ó
ÒYes,Ó John said. He wanted to say more but suddenly he fell silent.
A series of mountain peaks opened before his eyes as they rounded a
corner in the path. They were enormous. They stood up like tall spires,
sharp and deadly-looking, despite a sprinkling of snow upon them. Krull
saw the amazement in JohnÕs eyes. He laughed.
ÒDonÕt worry. We arenÕt climbing all they way up there,Ó he said.
ÒThe cave is here. Right here. Do you see it?Ó Krull pointed. John saw an
opening in the side of the hill they were climbing, a little farther up the
trail.
ÒYes,Ó John said.
ÒThat is the place of sacrifice,Ó Krull said.
The Indian women did not undress. They sat in a semi-circle inside
the cave. Before sitting they made the children sit down, on the hard
stone, and they shooed the dogs outside. They lit torches, using fire that
they had brought from the village. It cast a warm glow, flickering on the
rocks and casting strange shadows.
ÒThey are old and fat, misshapen from years of child bearing, and
their bodies would offend the Almighty, fruitful though they have been,Ó
the old Indian explained to John. Together they undressed. They did it in a
side room, a natural cave within the cave. John could see the women
beyond the roomÕs too-wide opening. He could feel their eyes on himself.
Their attention made him erect. The old Indian looked at him. ÒYou have a
fine penis,Ó the Indian said. ÒIt will please our God.Ó
ÒThanks,Ó John answered. Somehow, he didnÕt quite like the way the
old Indian had said that. Uneasily he said to the man, ÒSay, we have known
each other for a little while now, and climbed up here together, but I still
donÕt know your name.Ó
The old Indian made a guttural reply.
ÒHuh?Ó John asked. The Indian said it again. ÒIÕm sorry I canÕt
understand you,Ó John said.
ÒThat is because you are not Mayan,Ó the Indian said. ÒCall me Gore.Ó
ÒHuh?Ó John asked.
ÒAl Gore. That is an easy name for you to pronounce, is it not? Do
you not have a president by that name?Ó
ÒUh, a vice president,Ó John said.
ÒThen that is good. I am like a vice president,Ó the Indian who
wished to be called Gore answered. ÒGod is our president, and I am the
vice president. But our God does not sleep with young girls like your
president does.Ó
ÒNo, he only sacrifices them,Ó John muttered. But he did not say it
loud enough for the old Indian to hear. John cast his eyes outside the cave
mouth again, the inner mouth, which opened cervix-like into the outer area
of the cave, where the women sat. ÒWhat about the children?Ó John asked.
ÒDonÕt they have to undress?Ó He desperately wanted someone besides
himself, and a bunch of old flaccid men, to be showing their nudity.
ÒNo,Ó Gore the Indian said. ÒThey would look silly, with their
immature little wieners, or their hairless pussies. However all the men
must undress, however old or ugly, for the Almighty is a man and he
insists that the men come to him as he has made them, in His image.Ó
John looked in toward a second chamber, deeper within the cave. There
the old men were disrobing. They shed their clothes, showing their
tattoos, and their scars and their marks from years of toil.
ÒWe must show our humanity to our God,Ó Gore told John. ÒHe is
flawless, but we are flawed. We are born beautiful but we are not
Americans. We must work. Not in a bird, as you do, or in front of the
plastic boxes, with the bright colorful screens.Ó
ÒYou mean computers?Ó John asked.
ÒYes,Ó Gore said. ÒI do not understand how you Americans eat. You
cannot grow food by sitting all day in front of plastic boxes. But here, in
the mountains, we work in the dirt. We grow food that way. And we raise
our animals. As our forefathers did. As our God expects us to. And it is
hard on us, and breaks us over the years. Over the many hot, tiring years.
But also it teaches us our humanity. So perhaps, someday, when you
Americans have blown yourselves up with strange bombs, or all gotten the
faggot disease, and died from all your butt-fucking, we will still be here,
working the soil, and breaking ourselves upon it, but learning also of our
humanity.Ó
ÒUh, right,Ó John said. ÒAs long as it rains, right?Ó Gore nodded. He
did not see the brief flicker of amusement in JohnÕs eyes.
ÒYes,Ó he agreed. ÒRain. That we must have.Ó
John now felt quite observed. Not only were the old women staring
at him, and the children, but the men also. They looked at his erection
with astonishment and with envy. All of the men were old and incapable,
except for Krull. He was young and strong. He was beautiful too,
unmarked and without tattoos, for he had left his village to be a forest
ranger in America.
ÒWell,Ó Gore said. ÒNow we are as we must be. And I see that you
and Krull are God-like in your nakedness. I was like you, once, long ago.
But I think I was not like you too, for by the time I was your age I had
already worked many years farming.Ó
ÒYes,Ó John nodded. He felt strange standing in this cave, with his
penis stiff in the cool air, and his balls hanging between his legs. He
watched the little girlsÕ eyes move with him as he walked. ÒDonÕt you feel
anxious, having those children looking at me?Ó John asked Gore.
ÒNot at all,Ó Gore said. ÒIt is good for them to see a strong, healthy
penis. I remember years ago, when my father was still alive. A young
European man came to our village. That was before we had an airport,
before the hotel was built. He committed a crime. I do not know what it
was. But to expiate his guilt we brought him up here, and in front of the
whole village, my father cut off his penis. He did it ceremonially, as the
legends required. As a result the young man was not only forgiven by God
for his crime, but we had many babies the following year. Because our
girls witnessed it, and it inspired them, my father said. So it is good for
the children to see your penis, and KrullÕs also. I only wish our whole
village could come up and see it. But we are a town now. We are no longer
a small village. So we can only bring up those who are absolutely
essential to the ceremony that must be performed today. But perhaps
these girls, sitting with their mothers, will be among our most fruitful in
the coming years, once they have grown their tits and readied themselves
for fucking, by prettying their nests with pubic hair.Ó
ÒYes,Ó John said. He felt awkward displaying himself in front of the
handful of girls who were watching him. They were so small! Really, he
felt, they did not belong here, in this damp cave. But he could no more
control his erection than he could cease being a man.
ÒFetch the knives,Ó Gore told Krull, as Krull and the old men came
from the deeper cave into the room John was standing in.
ÒYes,Ó Krull answered.
From the deepest room of the cave, Jacinta was led out. She was
stripped bare. Her lightly tanned skin looked pale in contrast to the dark
flesh of the natives. Her breasts, lighter still, wobbled nakedly on her
chest. The nipples were stiff, as if with resolve. Bashfully Jacinta
looked down at her tits.
ÒHave they been milked?Ó a woman called out. It was one of the
Mayan women.
ÒShhhh!Ó another woman told her.
ÒNo, obviously not,Ó Gore told the assembly. ÒShe is a virgin. She
has not borne young.Ó
ÒYelda, you always ask stupid questions!Ó an old woman hissed.
There was laughter, and more hushed commands for quiet.
Krull walked out. He looked majestic in his nudity. Jacinta lifted
her eyes and briefly gazed at him. He had a headband tied around his head.
A single feather, fresh-plucked from a bird, jutted from it. The feather
had been brought up from the village, by one of the old men.
Kyla, who had tied a rope around JacintaÕs neck, and was leading her
by it, as if leading a sheep, gazed at the knives laid out by Krull. They
were beautiful ceremonial objects. They were laid out on a woven Indian
mat that the women, before sitting down, had placed over a rock. The rock
stood next to a table, which was in reality a raised bed of stone, cut from
the surrounding rock by Indians long ago, to form a platform upon which
the sacrificial victim could be laid.
The old men, naked with their flaccid penises, spread a soft woolen
blanket over the rock-hewn table. Then a woman handed the men a pillow.
She had been sitting on it but now she handed it up to the men, placing her
buttocks on the hard stone as she handed it up. The old man who took the
pillow from her plumped it, to erase the dent in it made by her bottom.
Quietly he scolded her. Then he tossed the pillow onto the rock table, on
top of the blanket. He did not place it at the end of the table, as Kyla
expected him to. Instead he tossed it toward the center of the table.
ÒThat is for your hips, to raise your belly,Ó Krull told Jacinta.
Sheepishly she glanced up, then looked back down toward her bosoms.
ÒShow me your eyes,Ó Krull ordered. At first Jacinta did not obey. Then
Kyla tugged on her rope. The girl felt the contraction of the rope around
her neck and she looked up, anxiously. For the rope was not knotted. It
was drawn through a loop which could allow it to be tightened to any
degree, even to the point of suffocation and death.
Krull indicated the knives on the rock next to the blanket-covered
table. ÒThese are made of jade,Ó Krull said. ÒIt was once abundant long
ago in these mountains, in the time of our forefathers. Today jade is very
rare. We never find it any more. But we have kept these knives. We have
never sold them, even when our children were starving and needing food.
For these knives belong to our God. They must be used to bring forth the
rain. Nothing else will work, even if the virgin is perfect, and
unblemished, as you are. That is what the old ones tell us.Ó The old men
listened and nodded. The women in the audience wagged their heads in
agreement. A girl giggled. She was hushed by her mother.
ÒThey are... beautiful,Ó Jacinta said, finding her voice amidst the
eyes that frightened her, that stared at her body as if it were as special
and rare and precious as the knives.
ÒThey have been with us for hundreds of years,Ó Krull said of the
knives. In a minute I will require you to get on the table. You must lie on
it on your back, with the pillow under your hips, lifting them and arching
your belly. When you are on your back I will ask you to spread out your
arms and legs. Your arms must go above your head, but be extended, as if
for crucifixion. Do not stick your arms straight out however. Angle them
upward, keeping them flat upon the blanket.Ó Krull pointed. ÒDo you see
the knobs cut in the rock table at the four corners? The men have pulled
the blanket inward a little to show them.Ó Jacinta looked, and nodded. ÒI
will tie your wrists to them,Ó Krull said. ÒAnd your ankles to the ones at
the tableÕs far end. You will lie with your crotch toward the old women.
You will show them your virgin lips, into which nothing has ever passed.
As you lie there exposed I will begin to work with the knife.Ó
ÒOh!Ó Jacinta gasped. Krull walked up to her. He raised a hand and
touched one of her nipples. Quickly she looked down. With a whimper she
watched as Krull tugged on her right tit. She was about to raise her arms
when John, approaching her from behind, grabbed her wrists. He drew
them back a little. This caused JacintaÕs breasts to jut out more, offering
her nipples more completely. John looked at Krull. The Indian had asked
him to do this, as they stood with their cocks exposed, waiting under the
watchful eyes of the Indian women for Jacinta to appear. But now he felt
strange, doing it, for it made him a collaborator. He did not know what
Krull had in mind and he didnÕt want to wind up with a guilty conscience.
Watching was one thing, participating by holding down the victim was
another. Nonetheless, he held JacintaÕs wrists. She was not yet bound to
the table. Anything could still potentially happen. Or not happen, as John
fervently hoped would prove to be the case.
Krull flicked a finger across JacintaÕs right nipple. Then he touched
her left one. ÒThese are the source of nourishment, but they are also the
source of sin,Ó Krull told Jacinta. ÒThat is why I will trace their
circumference with a knife. To outline their beauty but also to
circumscribe and delineate their sinfulness. Do not breathe as I do it. The
jade knives are very sharp. The slightest tremulous breath could cause
the knife to cut you here,Ó Krull told Jacinta. ÒThen you would no longer
be perfect.Ó Krull took hold of both of JacintaÕs nipples. He tugged on
them. ÒNext I will put down the knife and take a barb,Ó Krull said. ÒIt is
not made of jade, but of metal. Yes, we will need a few metal things here.
Some of the ancient arts have been lost. I will use metal tongs and clutch
your nipple, your right nipple first, and I will draw it upward and hold it
with the tongs. Then I will drive the barb through your flesh. Right here,
at the tip of your breast.Ó
ÒEeeeeek!Ó Jacinta shrieked. But she kept her eyes on KrullÕs finger,
which passed from one of her teats to the other, as if mesmerized by it.
John held her tightly. To his surprise, she did not struggle.
ÒIn a minute Kyla will spread powder upon your nipples,Ó Krull told
Jacinta. ÒI could lie to you and tell you that the powder is an anesthesia.
But actually it will make your nipples more sensitive. The barb will hurt
more, as a result of the powder. But God wants us to show our humanity.
By increasing the pain I will increase your sense of your own
vulnerability, and then you will feel more mortal before our God.
JacintaÕs eyes flicked to Kyla. The woman fingered her rope.
Jacinta gulped, looked down again, and felt the rope tighten slightly
around her neck.
Krull patted JacintaÕs belly. ÒAfter I have pierced each of your
nipples, I will turn to your womb,Ó Krull told the girl. ÒTo your virgin
womb. Here, where your navel is, I will poke you again. I will pierce your
belly. With the barb. Then I will move down to your cunt.Ó Krull reached
down to the girlÕs sex lips. He fondled her folds of flesh, frankly, making
her lurch in JacobÕs hands. ÒHere I will pierce you a third time, over the
covering that shields your clitoris. It will take time for me to find your
clitoris but I will be assisted again by the powder. In a minute Kyla will
spread powder in your cunt, concentrating on your most sensitive place.
So perhaps you will be more visible to me when I go searching for you. I
will cut into you there, with the barb. Finally I will take hold of your
tongue, in your mouth. I will pierce you there too. This is our modern
sacrifice. You will live, but you will be pierced. And lastly,Ó Krull
paused, running his hand over the girlÕs belly. ÒLastly I will drive my
penis into your virgin womb. I will break your hymen and spill my seed in
you. Then you will give birth, in nine months, unless Kyla can save you
from that with her pills that you Americans have.Ó Krull reached behind
Jacinta. He pressed his hand to her bottom. ÒNow get on the table,Ó he
told her in a gruff voice. ÒI am excited by you and I cannot wait forever
for what must be done.Ó
Amidst the smoke of the torches, in the damp air of the cave,
Jacinta got on the table. She could not control her trembling as she did so.
She stretched herself out. Then suddenly she decided she needed to pee,
but Krull told her it was nervousness. He would not let her get up. He
made her spread her legs and show her virgin opening to the women. He
tied her down, using rawhide rope that scratched her wrists and her
ankles as he tied it. He checked the rope looped about her throat.
ÒIf at any time it becomes too much for you, remember that I can end
it all with a simple tug on this rope,Ó Krull told Jacinta. The girl gulped.
As she nodded in reply, frightened nearly out of her wits now, Kyla began
to paint her nipples with a small brush.
John watched. He could barely keep his hand from his penis as he
watched. Gore looked at him, and sensed his arousal.
ÒDo not touch yourself, young man,Ó Gore said to John. ÒRemember
how the knives were used, when last they were used. On a man like
yourself. On his penis. Do not tempt the God by defiling yourself in front
of him. You would not want me ordered to cut off that fine thing, would
you?Ó
ÒNo,Ó John gasped.
Bending over Jacinta, Kyla whispered to her. ÒClose your eyes,Ó she
said to the girl. ÒLet it happen. But if you do not, tell me now. I would
not have your nipples pierced when mine are not.Ó Jacinta only whimpered
in answer. When Kyla asked her if she wished to get up, she said nothing,
only bleating softly like a small sheep, waiting to be put to death.
Krull, standing in the corner with his penis dangerously exposed to
his God, began to sharpen the jade knives. If he dropped one he knew there
was a greater than average probability of its slicing right through his
loins, for the knives were already sharp, and he had to hold them at chest-
level to sharpen them. But when he looked anxiously at Gore, the old man
nodded.
ÒYou are doing well, my son,Ó Gore said to Krull. ÒWe will have rain
if you continue.Ó
Krull finished sharpening the knives. Then he sharpened the barb.
Meanwhile Kyla completed her task of painting JacintaÕs nipples and her
cunt. She found the girlÕs clitoris and teased it until it showed itself
between the folds of her sex.
Krull walked over to Jacinta, holding a jade knife.
ÒIs she ready?Ó he asked Kyla. The brunette nodded.
Aroused, still whimpering, Jacinta looked up at the man she admired
so much. He stood tall and hard over her, like a statue carved from the
earth, holding the jade knife in his hand. Jacinta felt the soft wool of the
blanket against her back. With a steady hand, unflinching, Krull lowered
the knife to her breast. JacintaÕs breath drew in sharply. Her tits rose.
ÒNo,Ó Krull told her. ÒDo not breathe now. The slightest trembling
of your breasts, against this sharp knife edge, will end with a result
neither of us wants.Ó
Nervously Jacinta held her breath. She was shaking, and she could
not stop her quivering, which extended itself right to the tips of her
nipples. Fortunately Krull was merciful, and passed the knife a
centimeter above her breast tips. The old man, watching, did not notice
that the knife was not scraping directly against JacintaÕs skin. He thought
it was, and took it as a sign from God that Jacinta was not cut.
ÒShe is very holy,Ó Gore whispered to John. ÒLook! The knife does
not cut her!Ó John nodded. He was standing too far back to see KrullÕs
expert handling of the knife. He took the old man at his word.
Krull finished passing the knife blade over JacintaÕs shaking, excited
nipples. Next he went to the table and put down the knife, and picked up
the tongs and the barb. Jacinta screamed as Krull took hold of her and cut
her tit flesh. Kyla was handed a cloth by an old woman and she rushed to
Jacinta and shoved it into her mouth, lest the girl bite her own tongue.
ÒYou will wear Mayan jewelry on those, dangling from your nipples,Ó
Krull told the American girl when he had finished. ÒAnd you will go bare
breasted, when you are with me, so that I can admire the jewelry of my
people hanging from your tits.Ó
The ceremony continued. Krull did not cut into JacintaÕs belly. At
the last moment he stopped himself. He told the old man that God had
revealed to him, as he pressed the barb into her navel, that her womb must
be spared. The old man agreed.
ÒI have seen one miracle today. Perhaps the God has granted us
another,Ó the old Indian said.
Krull was not merciful, however, when it came to JacintaÕs cunt. He
cut into her sex with the barb, piercing it, and he told her that she must
wear jewelry there.
ÒA small ring, to show your fertility,Ó Krull told Jacinta. ÒMy penis
hangs from my crotch and you will display a small ring.Ó
Jacinta, with the cloth stuffed into her mouth, was sobbing now.
She could only nod at Krull and babble words he did not understand.
ÒAnd now for your tongue,Ó Krull said. He walked to the head of the
table. He took the cloth from her mouth.
ÒNo!Ó Jacinta screamed. Krull placed the metal tongs in her mouth,
like a dentist searching for a loose tooth. He found her tongue. He
clamped it. He pulled on it and exposed it. Jacinta felt like a fish, being
pulled up from the water.
ÒYou may not be able to talk for awhile,Ó Krull told Jacinta. ÒThis
will cause your tongue to swell.Ó And then he was upon her, and he cut
through her tongue. Afterward he told her she would wear Mayan jewelry
there too, secretly in her mouth, that people would only know about if she
exposed her tongue to them. But Jacinta did not hear KrullÕs words. She
had fainted.
By the time they left the cave, clouds were gathering in the sky. It
was raining before they even made it down the path, and the path became
slippery and people fell upon it, sprawling in the mud and laughing. But
Jacinta did not fall, because Krull carried her, with the raindrops
spattering her face and her newly pierced nipples, which wobbled sweetly
on her chest. The rain also pattered on her belly, which had been spared,
and it soaked through a cloth wrapped hastily round her hips, and wet her
newly deflowered cunt. John shook his head. It was strange, how this
weird ceremony had made it suddenly rain. He did not believe in the
Mayans or their God, but he could not explain what was happening. Neither
could Matilda, who shook her head, and wondered if the modern things she
had been taught in the school in Mexico City were flawed.
ÒPerhaps our God is flawless, after all,Ó she muttered to Gore. He
only smiled. He knew of his wifeÕs unbelief. It did not bother him. The
legends taught that women were inferior to men. They could not
understand holy things because their wombs wedded them to the earth, to
child rearing. Their breasts, full each day with milk that their young
sucked out, made them like cows. Useful beasts, but incapable of higher
thought.
In later days Kyla told the story of JacintaÕs sacrifice to her
daughter, who was born nine months after the Day of Rain, as the Mayans
came to call it. But sometimes, late at night, when her daughter refused
to sleep and insisted on hearing the story again, Jacinta would change it.
ÒAnd then,Ó Jacinta would say, to her daughter. ÒThen Krull dropped
the knife, and poor Jacinta died with it in her womb, still a virgin.Ó
John, who sometimes heard that ending to the story, as he passed by
in the hall, would laugh.
ÒNo,Ó he would mutter to himself. ÒThat is not how it ended. It
ended with some Indian dude getting what I wanted, and I was too dumb to
stop him.Ó
THE END
--------------------------- Dreamgirls! ------------------------
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