TWELVE
The Octopus
We motored along, Gregorio and I sitting in the back of a black Cadillac Escalade, the ESV, long-wheelbase version, with an armed driver and another armed security man in the front seats. In front of our Caddy was the S-Class, probably the same Merc that had picked me up at the airport a week ago, with Valencia and Voice inside. In front of that was another black Escalade, also a V-spec ESV model, containing Marta and Teresa. I didn't know how much the SUVs might cost, but it was clear that Voice didn't mind spending money because I'd guess the rigs cost north of one-fifty each, and an S-Class wasn't cheap either, and likely cost more than the Escalades. Like our Caddy, the other Escalade also contained an armed driver and another armed guard, and the S-Class contained the same, along with Valencia. We'd been on the road for over an hour and, according to Gregorio, we were approaching Diego Garcia's compound on the outskirts of Córdoba.
As we rode, Gregorio and the guards engaged in relaxed conversation. I joined in when appropriate, but I was more than a bit curious, and nervous, about what was going to happen when we reached Garcia's compound. Gregorio had tried to placate my nerves with gentle teasing, but he was only moderately successful. A large part of my nervousness was because I didn't know what to expect. All three of my housemates assured me that there was nothing to worry about, and it was normal for only the hosting stable to know what the tournament would entail. It was like a home field advantage because the hosts could prepare for the event by abstaining from fucking, so they were running hot, or fucking their brains out before the event to take the edge off, as the planned event required.
Over the past week I'd picked up a little more information, but nothing to warrant reporting back to Mother. My stablemates weren't sure, but they believed that Diego, Bautista, and Sergio were either Voice's top lieutenants, or perhaps his partners, though the other three men deferred to Voice if there was disagreement. None of them knew what business the men were engaged in, and though it wasn't spoken openly, I think they believed, as I did, that all four men were engaged in the drug trade. I strongly suspected that Voice and Toro were one and the same, though I had no proof, and drug money would explain the men's ability to spend so lavishly putting on their games.
None of my housemates concerned themselves with where Voice's money came from, and they advised me to do the same. I didn't argue with them, not wanting to arouse suspicion, but they reasoned that nobody was forcing anyone to take drugs. If people were willing to buy illicit drugs, someone would sell it to them, and if someone was going to sell illegal drugs anyway, it might as well be Voice so they could enjoy some of the benefits from the wealth the sale of illegal narcotics brought him. It'd have been hard to argue against their logic, even if I'd wanted to, so I simply dropped the subject.
I had to admit, they had a pretty good life, a life I could very quickly get used to. The day after my arrival, all three had taken me shopping at my request. All the clothes I had with me were functional, but tailored to security concerns, and consisted entirely of rugged pants with many pockets, stretchy pullover shirts, and my pair of boots. I also desperately needed a haircut, and I wanted to replace my watch.
We'd spent the day in Veracruz, our two escorts keeping their distance but shadowing our every move. Throughout the day, I kept checking over my shoulder to see if they were still there, but my three companions ignored them completely. I started with a haircut and then purchased a new watch. I had a weakness for elaborate watches, and I picked up a stainless-steel TAG Heuer Formula 1 that caught my fancy. It cost me most of what Valencia had left me as a signing bonus, but I still had a few thousand left from the money Mother had given me, so I decided to splurge.
Next, I purchased a new wardrobe. I bought three suits in light, tropical colors, but many more loose and breezy shirts, casual dress pants, and a few sport coats to compliment the rest of my new clothes. I finished off my collection with a selection of loafers, so I didn't have to wear my boots anymore, two tiny swimsuits the women had selected on my behalf, and ten pair of the same type of underwear that Gregorio had been wearing the previous evening. As I was counting bills to pay for my items, Gregorio presented me with a cream-colored Panama hat with a wide black band,
insisting
that I had to have it. After much encouragement from all three, I added it to my purchase.
I stepped out of the store wearing a pair of my new tan slacks, brown loafers, a brilliant white shirt, and of course, my new hat. As I slipped on my sunglasses, Gregorio adjusted the hat to a rakish angle and then stepped back and smiled appreciatively.
"If only you were interested," he'd said softly as his gaze slowly traveled over me, "we'd fuck so hard."
Though his comment made me slightly uncomfortable, I'd thanked him for the compliment.
For shopping, the trio had dressed as anyone would when going into town, but on this trip, my team had dressed in casual, easy to remove, loungewear like clothing, but as I had nothing like that, and Gregorio's wouldn't fit, I was wearing the clothes I'd purchased. All but my new underwear. The first time I'd worn the new underwear with pants I'd quickly realized they bunched, rode up, and were generally a pain in the balls. I'd switched back to my regular elastic boxers when wearing pants, but in the evening, lounging around the house shirtless after my workout and shower, they were my favorite underwear. Cool and comfortable, they had the added benefit of allowing the women to easily have a good rummage underneath if they wanted to, and this past week, they'd wanted to a lot.
I'd fucked either Marta, Teresa, or both, at least once every day this week until Thursday. Because we didn't know what the tournament challenge would be, they'd cut me off cold Thursday morning with a promise the fucking would resume as soon as the contest was over.
It was generally accepted in Voice's stable that not fucking during the two days leading up to the tournament was a good compromise between being eager and ready to fuck hard and fast if that was what was required, but not being so horned up that stamina was compromised if endurance was needed. My housemates had already discovered that stamina wasn't an issue for me, but they still refused to fuck me because they didn't want to compromise their own performance. By then I was much more comfortable around Gregorio's desire for me, and he'd cheerfully offered me a tumble, willing to risk losing at the tournament for a chance to fuck me, or if I preferred, to be fucked by me. I'd waved him off, claiming I probably couldn't handle him, and though he spluttered in disbelief, he accepted my rejection with good humor.
After the first night, when he and Teresa had joined Marta and me, he'd join the three of us in another hot and furious fuck Monday morning. It didn't escape my notice that as the four of us tumbled around Teresa's bed, touching, kissing, sucking, and fucking, his cock or lips were often withing easy reach of my own lips. He didn't try to force it, but it was clear he was making the offer if I chose to take it. I still wasn't interested in fucking men, but I'd also realized he wouldn't push me to do something I wasn't comfortable doing. If Marta was right that everyone became bisexual if they stayed in the games long enough, I suspected he thought he'd get his chance eventually.
I'd have felt sorry for him except I knew he was getting the shit fucked out of him by whichever of the women wasn't fucking me, and on Wednesday afternoon, he was roundly fucked by both women at the same time. Teresa and I were lounging by the pool when Gregorio, and a strap-on carrying Marta, arrived from the house. Gregorio described a scene from a porn video he'd just found, and with agreement from Teresa, he quickly shoved furniture around making ready.
As I watched, the three recreated the scene. Just as it was depicted in the video, they were in a competition to see if he could last long enough with Teresa sucking his cock, for Marta to make herself come while fucking his ass with the double strap-on.
He was stretched across the two chase lounges he'd pulled together to form a bed of sorts, his big cock pointing straight down in the narrow gap he'd left between the two. Teresa lay below the chairs, using the chases' cushions for padding, while enthusiastically sucking his cock. Across his back clung a grunting, sweating, and panting Marta, who was ramming her fake cock into him, and herself, with as much fury as possible.
