Santo Diablo

This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise showed, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents in this story are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over the age of eighteen.

Santo Diablo Pt. 7 Recruiting, Reminiscing, Revenge, and Recovery

My parents always called me Rose, although my given name is Rosa. I was born in Guatemala. My father always wanted a boy, but after my younger sister was born, my mother couldn't have any more children from complications during childbirth. My younger sister received all the attention from my mother, which left me the odd child out. My father wanted little to do with either of us, but stayed married to my mother out of a sense of loyalty and duty.

From the age of five, when my younger sister was born, I had to watch out for myself. That made me independent and headstrong. That didn't go over well with my father. He beat me often because of my actions and my mouth. When I reached the age of sixteen, I left home. Life on the street was better than black eyes and bruises. I received word from a family friend a little over a year ago that my sister was missing and presumably taken by human traffickers.

The Mendoza cartel operates throughout Central America and became the number one suspect in who had my sister. By this time, I lived in Mexico, but when I heard about what happened, I traveled back home. The same father I left greeted me. Between the curses and punches thrown my way, I gathered he blamed me for what happened. Shortly after I left, my family fell on hard times. My father was injured and unable to tend the land where he grew the vegetables my family sold. Without me at home, all the work fell on my mother and sister, but they could not keep it up. I wasn't there to help, so they had to sell their land.

What money they received from the sale went to my father's medical bills and the cheap shack they lived in, leaving little else. To survive, my mother took on any odd job she could. That included cleaning, sewing, and cooking. My sister helped, but there's only so much a teenager without usable skills can do. My sister found a job as a hostess in a local restaurant for a few hours a week, and that's where people surmised she came across the cartel's radar.

My sister is beautiful, taking after my mother. I, unfortunately, took after my father, which explains my plain looks and heavier build. No one has ever called me beautiful, but that's ok. I found myself with a decision. My father blamed me for their situation, and my mother wasn't talking to me because my father forbid it. I had always gotten along with my sister, but I hadn't talked to her since I left. I doubt the letters I sent her made it through my father because I never heard from her. Would I try to find my sister and put my life in danger, or leave it and walk away forever?

I tried to find my sister. The chance of finding her was slim to none, but I couldn't just turn my back on her, and my sister did nothing to deserve the fate that awaited her. I had to learn as much about the cartel as I could, so I inserted myself into the only place I knew I would run into cartel members; as a prostitute. I only plied my trade around areas frequented by the cartel. This also gave me access to the other women selling themselves, and I gathered as much information as I could.

I suppose my inquiries were raising suspicion, because it wasn't long after that they took me. I booked time with one of my regular men, a member of the cartel. When I arrived at the hotel, three men jumped me and threw me into a car. After an hour's drive, they pulled me into an old house. They started asking me questions while I was beaten and abused. By the time the sun rose the next morning, I would have welcomed death, but the men had other things in mind.

They took me to another house and chained me to a bed. Two men came in, held me down, and one of them shot me up with some kind of drug. After an hour, the men started arriving, one after another. The drugs clouded my mind, and I had no energy to fight back. My days settled into alternating between drugs and sex. They gave me a shot in the morning, afternoon, and evening. I had to perform sex all day for the cartel's customers. I thought my life was over. That existence wasn't a life at all, and I didn't see a way out. I was ready to die.

One day three men came in, unshackled me, and took me out to a van with the other women in the house. We must have driven all day and night with no food or water before arriving at our destination. We were all taken into a warehouse and locked in cages. I heard the guards talking and put together that they had sold us to someone who needed women to work in their brothels. They planned on shipping us out in a few days once they gathered all the women and received payment.

That's when you came in with your soldiers and saved us. I owe my life to you, as do the other women that were with me. I don't know how I can ever repay you.

"I'm glad we were there to help you." I answered. "Should I call you Rosa, or Rose? Which do you prefer?"

"Rose is good." She answered. "I've always liked that better. And you're Mr. Burkhart? Right?"

"Yes, and please call me Rich." I answered. "Rose, you're here because you didn't want to go back home. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir, it is." Rose answered. "I have nowhere to go back to. My family wants nothing to do with me, and whatever life I had vanished when I disappeared last year."

"I'm sorry to hear all of that, Rose." I replied. "I'm talking to you because you've passed the other tests and interviews we have. I'm the last step before you're invited to join our company. You'll have two choices if you do. You will either enter our training program for our Black Widows, or work in our security division."

"Can you explain more in depth what a Black Widow is, please?" Rose asked. "The others I've spoken to were vague and told me I would have my questions answered once I passed the tests."

"I'll be more than happy to." I answered. "Our Black Widows are our covert operatives. We use women because they're able to blend in easier, and most people don't see women as a threat. We train them as assassins and use them in operations like the one that saved you. We also have them perform undercover operations to gather intelligence, and when the need arises, to assassinate targets."

We sat and talked for another thirty minutes, and I went over how her life would be as a Black Widow, and how it differed from a member of our security division. After going back-and-forth Rose told me she would be interested in becoming a Black Widow. Rose was not the first woman to advance to this stage, another three preceded her. The next step of my interview turned the other women away. That was the step where I revealed I also trafficked women, along with other illegal goods.

"Rose, the last part is up to you." I began. "In order to accept you into the program and trust you, I must be honest with you. I'm not the savior you've made me out to be. Yes, we rescued you, but doing so was not the reason we were there. Our operations destabilize or eradicate organizations that are a threat. Rescuing women is a side effect of that, a welcome one, but not our focus. In fact, my organization also buys, sells, and transports women who have found themselves the property of someone else. I have a woman slave. She has voluntarily given herself to me, but regardless of how I ended up with her, I still treat her as my property."

"If you don't accept what I do, I will return you to your country." I explained. "For giving us your time, we will give you cash that will help you get settled into a new life. If, however, you decide to join us, your life will be here in the U.S., working for us."

"Rich, I'll be honest." Rose answered, looking me right in the eyes. "I don't care what you do. In my failed attempt to find my sister, I've met plenty of men and women on both sides of the fence. Some were slaves, some bought and sold them. I worked as a prostitute, and some women who worked alongside me were no good. They would steal from their Johns and hurt other women that got in their way. What I'm trying to say is, not all slaves are innocent or good, and some of these women deserve their fates."

"I don't know what became of my sister." Rose continued. "She may be dead. If working for you gives me the chance to hurt the men responsible for her abduction, or others like them, I'm all in. I would suck your dick every day for the chance to inflict some pain on these men. You owning slaves doesn't change that."

"Well, Rose, sex may be part of a mission." I answered. "I want to have a close relationship with all of my Black Widows. As a Widow you will get personal access to me, and I'll expect the same from you. We will train you as an assassin, but I'll also have to train you as a slave. You won't be, but you may find yourself in situations with me where you'll have to act as one. I take my own women with me as security, but there may come times they aren't available and I need to take a Widow or two."

"That changes nothing, Mr. Burkhart." Rose replied. "I'm still all in if you'll have me."

"Excellent, I'm glad to hear that." I answered, "And, from now on, you can call me Rich."

That is how I recruited my first Black Widow under the new program. Rose finished training after a little over a year. She was followed a month later by our second Widow, and five more followed shortly thereafter. I pulled Deborah back as a Black Widow, allowing her to focus on the mansion and me.

While I established the new shipping business and had the new women trained, Isabella became pregnant. We were not getting any younger and didn't want to hit our forties without kids. Once she was pregnant, the other women jumped on board. The next up was Penny. She became pregnant two months after Isabella. Stephanie came in a month later. Beth and Julie couldn't have kids, unfortunately.

Any spare time Julie had was taken up with Katia. Katia was two years into college, but still spent considerable time with Julie. They became even closer when Katia's aunt and uncle left the picture. Beth looked forward to becoming a grandmother. I wasn't her blood, but she always considered me her son, so it was Grandma Beth. By the time the women gave birth over a four-month period, I was a father four times over. Talk about an awakening. Isabella gave birth to a boy, Penny twin girls, and Stephanie a boy.

At first we tried to take care of the kids within the family. However, with the demands of our jobs and my traveling, it became untenable. We needed to hire nannies. We found the best candidates from the women we rescued. It was a perfect situation. The women had nowhere to go and needed a new life. I paid them well above market value for their loyalty and discretion, and they worked for our family for decades.

I split my time between being a father, chairman of the board for Santana, and owner of Burkhart Shipping. Our children were kept isolated from what I actually did for a living, naturally. In addition, with kids came a scaling back of our lifestyle. Our house, once filled with naked women and sex, was now filled with children's toys and play sets. Having grown up without a dad, I was adamant about spending as much time with the kids as I could.

I didn't spoil the kids too much, but I ensured they had everything they needed. When I wasn't traveling or working, I was with them. This, naturally, diminished the time I spent at home with my wives. Beth and Julie, the only two without their own kids, were the only ones that seemed to mind. I solved that problem by spending more time with them at work and when I was traveling. Stephanie, Penny, and Isabella, when they weren't working or spending time with the kids, were sleeping. For a time after the kids were born, I did most of my traveling with Beth, Julie, and Ann.

We still undertook operations for the government, but now Stephanie performed her liaison duties with the FBI from our new office in California. This time, I was flying out to meet with General Santiago to discuss a new delivery. Our flight was around five hours, so as usual, we had fun on the way.

I sat in a recliner on my private plane with Ann between my legs. She was giving me one of her outstanding blowjobs, and I was enjoying the show that Beth and Julie were putting on. They were each lying on the pullout sofa pleasuring each other. This brought me back to the first night I spent with Beth, Julie, and Nicole.

That night, I had Nicole, Julie's mother, on my lap fingering her, while Julie played with Beth. I was less than a week into my new life as a member of the Assassins Motorcycle Club, and I was the guardian of three beautiful women. At eighteen, I thought I was on top of the world, but I had so much to learn. Now I only had a few years until I turned forty. I still enjoyed the sight of Beth and Julie engaged with each other. That first night Beth was a little shy, but she had long since gotten over that.

From my position, I could see Beth's face buried between Julie's legs. Every so often, when Beth pulled back a bit, I could see her tongue circling Julie's clit. This caused Julie to grind her hips into Beth's face, pushing her in harder. I'm sure Julie was just as dedicated to Beth's pleasure as Beth was doing some grinding of her own. Beth was on top of Julie, and the roundness and firmness of Beth's ass still amazed me.

She was in her mid-fifties, but that didn't diminish her sexiness one bit. She had a few more wrinkles, but none of that mattered. Her breasts were still in great shape, although not as pert as they once were. She never gave birth, so there were no stretch marks or scars. Honestly, I would have traded her unmarked body for a kid of her own, but that wasn't in the cards.

One of my favorite activities with Beth was spanking her. When I walked through the door that first night and saw Beth's red ass on display in the corner, I almost had a heart attack. I still get hard thinking about that sight. The next morning, when I had my first chance to spank her over my knee, I was in heaven. I did my best to not show how turned on and excited I was. My heart almost beat out of my chest and my cock was throbbing. It was everything I could do to maintain my composure.

Much to Beth's chagrin, my favorite part of spanking her is getting her kicking and crying. I know it's insensitive of me to bring her to that state, but I can't help it. She has, however, told me many times she also enjoys it, but probably less than I do. I always send her to the corner with tears running down her face. I must admit, I'm a bit of a masochist. It just took a while for me to grow comfortable with it.

I looked away from Beth and Julie to pay closer attention to my assistant, Ann. She had her mouth wrapped around my cock, with her right hand stoking me. Periodically, she would look up and make eye contact, which would cause her to increase her speed and enthusiasm. I saw her hand between her legs, no doubt rubbing herself. It always turned her on when I dominated her. She's told me the simple act of sucking my dick makes her feel dirty, considering I'm her boss.

She loves her husband, and our relationship never diminishes that. What Ann needs, however, her husband cannot provide. She needs a firm hand, a man who will keep her in her place. She's told me this and informed me she always wants more. Her husband is submissive himself and has a mistress of his own. Ann and her husband are happy living most of the time apart with the persons they answer to.

I motioned to Ann, and she immediately jumped up and straddled my dick. She rode me, sliding up and down and grinding her hips into me. Her arms wrapped around my neck, using me as leverage, lifting herself up and easing herself down. I love to see the look in her eyes. It's a look that's a mixture of lust, love, and humiliation. She loves that feeling, and has admitted what drives her the most is the feeling she shouldn't be allowing me to use her. A married woman should not act like that, and should be faithful to her husband. Ann can't help herself and never stopped submitting to me.

After riding me for some time, I told her to change places with Beth. Watching Beth have sex with Julie made me want to feel her on top of me. My life has put me in a place where I can indulge in my sexual fantasies. When I want something, I have seven women that want to give it to me. I watch as Beth climbed off of Julie, smiling as she walked over. I was momentarily lost in her eyes and thought about what got us to this point.

My mother died young, and after my father died, Beth stepped in and raised me. I stopped short of looking at her as a mother, but from the age of ten, she was the closest person I had to a parent. She taught me values, kept me safe, and provided as much nurturing as she could. Becoming her guardian for the club and making her submissive to me was both strange, and a dream come true.

As she straddled me and slowly slid down, I looked up into her eyes, the same eyes I looked into as a kid. I always thought she had beautiful eyes. They were always kind, and even from a young age, I often got lost in them. My father died and left me alone, but in Beth's eyes, I found a home. She was someone I could count on, and we helped each other get over his loss.

Beth slowly rode me. She lowered herself and pushed her hips forward. She pulled back and slowly lifted herself up, just to repeat the motion. All the while, she continued looking into my eyes. We have spent many years since that first night she straddled me in our old living room, with Nicole and Julie watching. She was nervous, unsure if she should cross that last line.

I was afraid at the time having sex with her would damage our relationship, but I couldn't resist. The club demanded I make the women submissive to me and use them sexually. Honestly, I probably would have done it, anyway. Fortunately, my relationship with Beth grew stronger. First, it was a substitute for what she had with my father, but it grew beyond that. Beth and I were now inseparable, a bond stronger than anything she felt in her marriage. I was her focus, her safety, and her shelter. She still acted as my guardian, watching over me every minute of every day. It was a job she excelled in and one she relished.

As she continued to ride me, moaning as she did, I was overcome with the love I felt for her. It differed from the love I felt for the other women. My relationship with Beth preceded all of them, and it was our shared experiences and memories that set it apart. Beth's orgasm broke me out of my thoughts. She threw her head back and started to spasm. She bottomed out, pushing down as hard as she could. She slowly rocked her hips back and forth until the orgasm subsided, then leaned forward on my chest.

I glanced over and watched Ann and Julie. Ann was leaning back on the edge of the bed with Julie between her legs. Ann, along with her submissive side, also possessed a dominatrix streak. She had my permission to dominate the other women, all except Isabella, who was far more dominant than Ann. As my assistant, Ann kept the women in line at work, helping me keep them occupied and focused.

I figured it was time to have fun with Julie. I stood up and carried Beth, who was now sleeping, over to the pull-out sofa. I instructed Ann to sit in the recliner across from me, spread her legs, and finger herself until I told her to stop. I then told Julie it was her turn to climb into my lap and fuck me until I came. She was more than happy to, and quickly jumped into my lap almost as soon as I sat back down. She didn't take her time and immediately started fucking me.