Peter Jensen

The Captive Bride

"Well, my dear, I have good news for the both of us," Fritz Schneider said to his young, dark-eyed Italian mistress who was sunning herself on the patio of their large country house in Mallorca. Schneider sat in the shade on a stone bench. He threw a branch for his large dog, Eric, a fierce-looking German shepherd. The branch sailed over the courtyard wall, and the dog growled with displeasure before dashing out of the patio through an open gate.

Christina was naked and stretched out in a provocative position on the grass, her knees uplifted and her full firm thighs spread apart in an uninhibited fashion. She had creamily tanned shoulders that narrowed down to an hourglass waist, and molded thighs that tapered over slim calves to thin, well-formed ankles. Swelling out from her small waist, her curved hips were more than matched by generously rounded breasts whose rose-tipped nipples pointed up to the sun.

"Christina, are you listening?" Schneider commanded.

"What, Fritz, darling?" she yawned and turned over to one side, bending an elbow to support her head.

Her satiny black hair cascaded down her back as she removed dark glasses to peer at Schneider. Her dark eyes, with their long thick eyelashes fluttering out over high-set cheekbones, gave her a devouring expression. As she cast a passion-inciting glance at Schneider, he felt his penis eagerly jerk and stiffen in his pants.

"Fortune has smiled on us in our need for someone to deliver the heroin to the states," he announced.

"Not me, I hope," Christina murmured in a lightly accented voice.

"No, our desperation has yet to reach such lengths. I think we shall use the charming young American newlyweds whom we met in Palma yesterday. The ones who just arrived from their wedding in the states."

"I want to buy a leopard skin coat," Christina muttered.

"My dear, sometimes I wonder about you! How can you think of fur coats in this kind of weather?"

Christina didn't answer but sank back onto the grass. Her pink-nippled breasts jostled slightly as she lifted a hand to shade her eyes from the bright sun. Once again, Schneider's cock throbbed and he felt his long thick penis straining against the restricting material of his Bermuda shorts.

"Christina," he ordered as his glance took in her naked body. "I want you to crawl over here. On your knees."

"No!" Christina laughed huskily.

"I want to see those big tits of yours bobbing as you crawl over to me."

"It's too hot," Christina protested.

"Shut your pretty mouth," Schneider growled with a note of sadistic humor in his voice, "and do as I say!"

Christina heaved a deep sigh and lifted herself slowly from the grass onto her knees, taking one last look at the sun as if she were about to set out on a long journey. She had been lying lazily in the bright sun for about an hour, and her lush body was covered with a light gloss of perspiration that deepened her Mediterranean tan. A delicate trail of moisture trickled down her flat browned belly to the curling black wisps of her pubic mound. She smiled and then began hobbling across the grass to Schneider, her sun-bronzed hips and full-swaying breasts presenting an obscenely sensual picture to him. She reached the edge of the stone patio where Schneider sat, looking at him with an amused expression.

"What about the Americans?" she asked, and gracefully rolled her hips back onto the grass.

"Oh, yes," Schneider sighed, suddenly brought back to business. "He is the son of a well-known congressman. When he returns to his country from his Mallorcan honeymoon, his luggage won't even be touched by the customs people."

Schneider's thoughts returned to the young American couple whom he and Christina had met in Palma yesterday. They had happened to be sitting in the same sidewalk cafe when Christina struck up a conversation with them in her usual gregarious fashion. Schneider had seen immediately that the good-natured young husband was almost a kid, and the young wife had a virginally proud appearance that appealed to his sadistic character. He had talked on at great length, and enjoyed the way he was impressing the young couple as a sophisticated European. But all the while his eyes had roamed over the young blonde's upturned breasts, enticingly outlined by a thin summer sweater.

"I don't think he'll want to do it," Christina frowned and lifted her knees, leaning back against the grass on her arms.

"That's where the young wife comes in," Schneider grinned gloatingly.

Yesterday they had hardly left the cafe when he'd realized that his lewd fantasies about the young blonde were entirely possible. A plan had occurred to him in which he would not only enjoy the sexy blonde wife, but the heroin problem would be solved as well.

Schneider's multi-million dollar heroin smuggling operation had suffered a temporary halt at the U.S. end of the line when customs had installed an elaborate new screening process which had already detected two of Schneider's shipments. But with the help of the American couple, Fritz felt sure that he had discovered an ingenious method for slipping through at least four or five caches of the narcotic with absolutely no risk to himself. Jack Thompson, who had exuberantly identified himself as the son of an important congressman, would have an almost diplomatic immunity because of his father's congressional status. Schneider gloated to himself, running his mind over the clever plan once again. Two suitcases filled with heroin and carried by Jack Thompson would net Schneider a considerable sum, but it was the other part of the plan, where the American's young bride came into play, which really caught Fritz Schneider's interest.

"We shall bring them here to the house. It will be very interesting, I think, to have photographs of an important congressman's young daughter-in-law having a go at it with a dog. After I warm her up first, of course. They shall be explicit photographs. Not a detail shall be left out," Schneider said slowly, savoring the completeness of his scheme.

So he has his eye on that sweet young bitch, Christina thought in sullen jealousy. She was twenty-five, thirty years younger than Schneider but he still had a crude masculine quality about him that attracted her. He was a powerful-looking man, with a cruel sadistic look in his eyes that befitted an ex-Nazi in hiding. But she had more affection for him than might be expected of a young mistress. It was more than the easy life that Fritz provided for her that held her to him.

"She doesn't seem the type," she pouted moodily.

"My dear, there's no reason to be negative. The young lady will be compliant after she finds you naked in bed with her young husband. I thought you would enjoy that."

Christina's sulking expression cheered up immediately at the mention of a chance for her to seduce the virile-looking man. Already Schneider could see her exulting salaciously as she planned exactly how she would get the younger man into bed. She's a narcissist and has a right to be, he thought as he eyed her naked body. Her ripe full breasts spilled out beside her upturned knees, and her hair-lined pussy-lips were spread enticingly for his appreciating view.

"I'm willing to try," she agreed and sat up, crossing her legs and twirling at her black hair where it fell gently over her shoulders and down her back.

This certainly is good news! Christina thought to herself. At first, she had felt a little jealous when Fritz mentioned the young wife, but she had to admit that one of the things she liked most about living with Schneider was all of the wonderful freedom the older German gave her. They had an excellent living arrangement since Schneider's search for variety in his women was only matched by her own strong appetite for a wide assortment of desirable men.

Sometimes Christina thought Fritz understood her sexual needs even better than she did.

Schneider bent down and rested his elbows on his knees. "You have the right attitude dear. I'll enjoy watching you throw it to him. After a few hours of coaxing, I'm sure you'll be impossible to resist."

"I think my body is holding up pretty well, don't you?" Christina said, cupping her hands under the voluptuous weight of her firmly rounded breasts and lifting them until they stood out in full bloom. She held the pulsating little nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, pinching them gently into erection. Leaving her breasts, her hands trailed down over her smooth stomach to her hair-fringed pubic "vee".

"Quite well," Schneider agreed. "Come over here so we can talk more about it."

Christina walked over to the stone patio and then knelt provocatively beside Schneider who tangled one hand into her soft black hair. With the other hand, he unzipped his Bermuda shorts, rising a minute to tug them and his undershorts anxiously over his knees until they fell alongside the bench. He dropped back onto the bench, his long, desire-hardened cock beginning to jerk and throb below his spreading belly.

"You'll work over the husband and I'll get the proud little bride," he murmured and separated his hairy thighs, holding his cock in his hand and slipping back the heavy foreskin to reveal the thick rubbery head. Then he took her hand and clasped it around his rock-hard penis which stiffened and twitched visibly at her warm touch.

The kneeling young woman teased the foreskin back and forth with one hand while with the other she played with his sperm-bloated testicles, squeezing them with the tips of her gently massaging fingers. "He was nicely built, I thought," Christina murmured as Fritz's lubricating fluid seeped out of the small opening at the lust-bloated glans. She rubbed her fingers over his blunt cock-head, swirling the slippery liquid all over the throbbing tip and causing obscene ecstatic shivers to run down Schneider's thighs. Christina bent forward to trail her warm tongue down his hair-covered belly to his upper thighs as Schneider's cock jerked in excited response. She continued to massage and stroke his long hard penis with one hand while her tongue ran hungrily down over his cum-filled balls.

"And naive. He'll be so appreciative," he grunted and gritted his teeth as the brunette's open mouth hovered in a tantalizing sucking position about his pulsing cock, so close that he could feel her hot breath grazing against his desire-stiffened penis.

He pressed against the back of her head and forced his erected cock up through her softly ovaled lips into the warm wet saliva of her mouth.

"God, baby, he'll be putty in your hands," he gasped through tightly clenched teeth as his burgeoning penis slid up the full length of her wetly outstretched tongue. He could feel his cock pulsating against the clasping interior of her mouth as she wormed her head the full-length down his hardened penile staff until the blunt tip-end touched back against her tonsils.

Christina mewled softly and lifted her head up slowly to his cock-head where she flicked the tip of her tongue into the small open slit at the end until she could taste his pungent seminal fluid. She ran her tongue wetly around and around the saliva-lubricated head, then began pumping with her lips, bobbing her head up and down as her elastically sucking lips pulled like a vacuum on the taut cock-shaft fucking up into her open mouth. Her cheeks hollowed on the outstroke and expanded on the instroke, the pink insides of her lips clinging to his thrusting penis as if held there by unseen fingers.

Schneider's cock sank deep into her clasping cheeks until only the thick base of it showed white and glistening from between her incessantly sucking lips. The dark-haired older man placed his hands on the bench and levered himself up, lifting his hips and grinding them in continuously thrusting jabs against her receiving mouth.

"You'll get him in bed with you and he'll be fucking you when she catches him," he grunted as her head bobbed below, her breasts lewdly dancing beneath her pumping torso. She continued sucking his crazily jerking penis while she trailed her fingernails across his muscular thighs, working them down to cradle his cum-filled balls.

Suddenly, his hands locked tightly behind her head, he forced her mouth mercilessly down his rigid hardness until Christina gagged slightly. She struggled to regain her breath and then drew up and down on his mouth-filling penis, her lips making wet sucking noises as her ovalling mouth strained ever more hungrily around his driving cock.

"Harder, harder," he commanded. Schneider closed his eyes, pretending for the moment it was the sexy blonde wife of the American. He'd like to give it to her like this, ramming his cock all the way back into her throat when he did get her… and… he would get her soon!

"Suck harder… harder!" he hissed in animal-like anticipation as Christina labored ever more passionately below; her breasts bobbed and bounced wantonly and her skin began glistening from the tiny droplets of sweat forming over her straining body.

"I'm going to get at that hot young wife and fuck her senseless!" Schneider growled as his hands tightened in his young mistress's long black hair. Suddenly the heat in his constricting balls screamed out with explosive release!

Chills rippled along the back of his spine and an obscene gurgling murmur passed from his lips as he felt the maddening softness of her flicking tongue twirling around his powerfully ejaculating cock, teasing it ever more furiously as his churning testicles neared the bursting point. Incoherent moans sputtered from between his tightly clenched teeth, and a low guttural sound erupted from somewhere deep in his chest and broke into a choking gasp.

Hot liquid sperm was emptying out from his violently contracting balls, flooding searing jets of cum deep into her contracting throat as Christina continued sucking for all she was worth. Her Adam's apple bobbed in rapid rhythm, swallowing desperately the gushing spurts of hot male semen which filled every cubic inch of her cum-drenched mouth.

"Suck it, baby, suck it," he whimpered in the final trembling spasms of his draining orgasm.

Slowly, his penis deflated between her semen-smeared lips, but she continued the hungry little nibbling motions, sucking out the last tiny bit of his boiling male cum as she rested her head on his leg. She continued to nip at him gently for awhile before she lifted her head and rose again to her knees.

"When do we meet the husband?" Christina said, her cum-covered mouth shining lewdly in the Mediterranean sunlight.

"This afternoon we shall invite them to the house. Once they're here, they're here for good. We'll hold them while you work on the husband. When the young girl is in the proper state of shock, I think we'll get some good photographs of her. After we get the pictures, we'll release the husband with the heroin but hold onto the wife. He will get her back after he's delivered the drug. We, my dear, will hold onto the photographs for our future protection, and I might add, our future amusement."

Chapter Two

Becky Thompson stretched her long legs out into the sun as she sat alone at an outdoor table in the same Palma sidewalk cafe where she and her husband, Jack, had met the German and the voluptuous Italian woman yesterday. Jack had finally gone to the bar after they had waited quite a long time to order their second round of drinks. He was now talking casually with an elderly Scandinavian woman while he attempted to get the barman's attention.

Becky lifted her long golden hair from her shoulders for a moment and breathed a deep sigh of relief as the cool air hit her shoulders. The soft breeze blowing through the crowded sidewalk cafe was refreshing after the hot June morning she and Jack had spent on the beach.

The clear aquamarine water of the Mediterranean had felt heavenly as it had gently surged over her almost naked body. At first, she had felt a little shy and uncomfortable about appearing in such a revealing bikini, but when she got to the beach she saw all the women were wearing them. She would have felt out of place, she realized now, if she had worn her old one-piece suit from back home. Undoubtedly, Jack was right when he teased her and said she was slightly old-fashioned and too modest.

Of course, Jack wasn't audacious or extreme himself, and she was glad of that. Let others have their new-fangled ideas, she thought, but when it came to marriage she was a traditionalist and wanted a marriage that would last forever. With Jack's boyish manner and dry sense of humor she didn't expect to ever be bored. It was all going to be so perfect! When they returned home, Jack had a job with a new up-and-coming corporation, and she planned to work two or three years as a teacher. She knew they could have had a family right away if they had wanted to accept more help from their parents. But it was better, they had decided together, to struggle on their own and be independent.

So it wasn't really selfish of them to have allowed Jack's generous and wealthy senator father to send them on this wonderful honeymoon. Even at the beginning, she had instinctively sensed it would have been rude to refuse her future father-in-law's gesture. She had to smile as she thought of Jack's famous and rather flamboyant congressman father. He was an awful lot like Jack – exuberant and good-natured on the outside, but surprisingly sensible and old-fashioned inside.

So now, because of Jack's father, she and her new husband were in their plushly modern hotel with a whole suite of three rooms to themselves. The living room had sliding doors that opened onto a terrace from where they had a good view of the water. This morning they had gotten up from bed and walked out on the terrace to see droves of white swallows flashing back and forth through the clear blue sky over the ancient white-painted architecture close to the port. Then Jack had called down to room service and had breakfast brought up to the terrace. They sat quietly in lounge chairs, sipping on strong black coffee and trying to eat these hard European rolls.

Now, as she lit a cigarette in the cafe, she realized that through the elegant morning breakfast Jack had probably been trying to make up for last night. He knew that would make more of an impression on her than more meaningless apologies. But she quickly shoved the memory of that agonizing first night together out of her mind with one quick stroke. No, she wouldn't allow herself to think of it. She had already decided this morning that some things only became worse when you stewed about them and were best left forgotten.

Her attention was suddenly occupied by Jack who was picking his way through the closely positioned tables on the sidewalk toward her table.

"That's some conversation I had with that woman over there," the tall, dark-haired young man said as he pulled out a chair and sat down. "According to her, this cafe is about the most infamous hang-out on the island."

"What did she mean by that?" Becky asked curiously and laughed. The cafe looked ordinary enough to her. Its canopied top stretched out over the sidewalk, and groups of businessmen hovered around small tables. She noticed two quaint-looking older men playing cards just inside the wide door.

"Some criminal types, to hear her tell it, frequent the place," he said as he looked to the side.

Becky gave a sudden start of fright as she recognized the desk clerk in the hotel where they were staying. He was sitting with a group of men at a back table, which was probably why she hadn't noticed him before. During their few brief encounters, she had thought him pleasant enough, but now she found herself wondering about him.

"My Lord! That's the desk clerk at our hotel!" Becky laughed nervously and turned back to her husband.

"He seems nice enough," her husband raised his second gin and tonic to his lips. "As a matter of fact, he's treated us rather royally since we arrived here."

Becky tried to recall their few contacts with the red-haired man, but it was virtually impossible since only Jack had talked with him when they had checked in yesterday. She had stood to the side with her mind totally wrapped up in the fact that she was checking into a hotel with a man, now her husband, for the first time. Later that evening – when they had finally returned from their conversation with the German and his gorgeous-looking wife in this same cafe – he had escorted them back up to their room. But once again her mind had been absorbed in what would happen in the next few hours of their first night together.

"I don't think he's too much of a desperado," Jack went on. "That Swedish woman says that he used to be involved in an agency that provided tourists with illegal guides. He charged them for a tour around Palma with local boys who didn't know much of anything. Now it's suspected he's involved in the illicit drug traffic. According to her, the police investigate him a lot, but can't pin anything on him… I don't know. I'm not going to worry about it. It doesn't seem to have anything to do with his work at our hotel."

"Do you think we should tell the hotel?" Becky frowned.

"On the basis of what that woman said? No, honey, she's probably just a gossip. Let's forget about it," he reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

"Agreed," Becky smiled back.

Jack finished off the last of his gin and tonic. "I think I'll run over to American Express to see if we got any mail," he said. "I'll ask the barman to bring you another drink in the meantime. Then we'll go back to the hotel for a little siesta. Right?" he gave her a hopeful expression.

Becky nodded uncomfortably.

She watched Jack move to the bar and then wave as he came back through the tables and moved out onto the sunny street. She looked down the street which was lined with trees and noticed several shopkeepers pulling down the latticed shutters to their open stalls. The caf? tables on both sides of the street were filling up even more now. Palma's business people were coming out of the shops and crowding with the tourists onto the narrow sidewalk.

Siesta, Jack had said, and Becky knew what that meant… He wanted to make love again. She stared gloomily down the street at a palm tree. Despite herself, a small knot of fear and humiliation tightened in her stomach. Siesta. She hoped it would be nothing like the brutal animalistic way he had acted when he had almost raped her last night.

Chapter Three

Olaf Jorgensen, the Swedish desk clerk Becky and Jack had been warned about in the cafe, had been closely watching the young American couple from the first moment they arrived at the swank Hotel Del Palacio around noon of the previous day. From his earlier experiences with American honeymooners, he had guessed they had been married the day before, and that they had left the wedding party early to catch their night flight from the United States to Mallorca. He knew that they had been in the plane overnight by the way they had arrived at the hotel desk looking typically giddy and exhausted. Well, the husband seemed nervous, but his lovely young bride was one of those poised blondes who never looked tired or rumpled. The desk clerk had watched her standing to the side of the counter while her husband anxiously asked about their reservations. Olaf had hardly listened to what the groom was saying since he was so lustfully fascinated with the ripe young figure of the new bride. He expected to get a full view of that luscious young body later that night as he peeped into the Bridal Suite from a small aperture he had long ago installed in the wall of the adjoining hotel room.

The young newlyweds had changed clothes and gone out immediately to sit in some Palma cafe and watch the other tourists. All afternoon Olaf had gloated over his plans for the coming night. He had practically fallen over himself with excessive friendliness when they had returned to the hotel at eight o'clock in the evening. Escorting them personally to their quarters, he had delighted in their surprise at his good service and their ignorance of how he intended to use them.

Olaf, once he had been relieved by the night clerk at nine, headed immediately for the room next to the Bridal Suite. He hurried up to the wall and positioned himself in front of the special viewing spot he had cleverly designed to focus on the bed. There they were! He gasped eagerly as the couple moved quietly around the room in the tender moments just before they would undress and prepare for bed. His heart rose in anticipation as the young man pulled himself close to his beautiful blonde bride while she teased her moistly parted lips over his face.

It will only be a few moments now! Olaf thought. But then the husband's features fell in disappointment when the young girl gently gestured him aside and entered the bathroom. Olaf had cursed silently with sympathetic frustration as Jack sat down on the side of the bed and stared impatiently at the closed bathroom door.

Now Olaf's lust welled up deeper and more insistently than ever as he imagined the perfect curves of Becky Thompson's succulent young body. He congratulated himself on the fact that tonight he would reap a special benefit from the deflowering about to be played out before him. Fritz Schneider had paid Olaf to keep a close detailed watch on the couple. The reasons for Schneider's interest had not been disclosed to the Swede, nor did Olaf feel compelled to ask. Schneider was a clever character and was always up to something lucrative, and Olaf felt lucky to be involved in intrigue with the German. Besides, he had received a sizable lump of cash for his spying efforts.