Stupid! That’s exactly what I am and why I’m stumbling, half mad from thirst, across this arid wasteland toward the small town we passed in the night almost two days ago in search of help.

It’s because of me that my wife is in the clutches of men who have twisted her mind and very soul, bending her to their will to appease and satisfy their perverted sexual depravity. God it’s hard to believe that only seven days (or has it been eight…?) have passed since Sharon and I stood in front of a Minister, exchanging vows.

After putting in a quick appearance at the reception, we started on our honeymoon. At the last minute and without telling anyone, we decided, or rather I had decided, that Mexico would be an ideal honeymoon and so I had driven almost four hours across Texas and crossed the border, thinking of tall cool drinks, beaches and warm breezes. Sharon was still wearing her wedding gown and I guess the humming of the tires and stifling heat made her doze off, because, as I pulled into the gas station a million miles from nowhere, she didn’t answer when I asked if she needed to use the bathroom. She looked so peaceful slumped in the seat and, though her dress had ridden above her knees exposing her thighs, I decided against adjusting her gown for fear of waking her. Besides we were in the middle of nowhere, with only a grizzled old Mexican around, or so I thought.

Returning to the car after relieving myself and getting a couple of Cokes I was surprised to see seven or eight men about the car. As I drew closer I could see another one inside the car. Dropping the sodas, I ran to the car yelling at them, but instead of scattering they simply ignored me and then opened the car doors pulling Sharon out to the dusty ground. A quick glance at her as she fell onto her back with widely splayed legs, causing her disheveled and torn wedding gown to rise almost to her waist, also told me she had tried to fight the men off.

Wading into them I began lashing out, trying to make my way to my wife. Before I had taken two swings something smacked against my temple, knocking me to the ground ten or so feet from my beloved. On hands and knees, with my head ringing, I stared stupidly at the men as they advanced on my wife. She was trying to scramble backwards, only to come against a tree, just as someone kicked my ribs knocking the wind out of me. Falling face down into the red clay dust, I heard her scream as material tore and then I must have passed out for a few minutes. As if from far away, I heard laughter and the sound of grunting along with Sharon crying, as I climbed my way back to reality, through pain-filled eyes, I saw Sharon’s long beautiful legs splayed apart in an inviting V with a near naked man between them. The lower part of her wedding gown, what was left of it, was about her waist and the man’s ass was bobbing up and down, as if on a string, as between grunts and other noises coming from his throat he exclaimed to his companions how tight she was.

Through pain-filled eyes, I watched, stupefied, as the Mexican pushed himself almost upright, arching his back as he shoved his groin forcefully into hers, holding himself to her as his ass clinched and shudders shook his shoulders. A deep sigh of satisfaction hissed from his throat, leaving little doubt that he had just flooded her pussy. I screamed. All that was accomplished was receiving another kick to my ribs. Writhing in pain I watched, as if in slow motion, as he climbed to his feet, pulling his pants up from around his knees. He turned to me with a shit-eating grin on his dark face, and in broken English said, the gringo slut would make his men much happy many many times. Standing over me he tormented me with descriptions of her tight pussy and how tight her cunt had felt as he fucked her.

I tried to blot out his words as I looked toward where Sharon lay softly sobbing. I saw one of the men produce a large knife, placing it between her breasts. My mind screamed and garbled noises slipped from my throat, thinking he was going to kill her, but then, to my relief, the knife pierced the frilly material of her bodice, slicing the fabric apart.

Another flick of the knife and her white lace bra parted, freeing her 34 C’s from their tight confinement. Pulling her dress apart, hands cupped her smooth firm tits and then began pulling her nipples, stretching them cruelly as if trying to rip them from her body. With her head thrashing about and muffled pleas for mercy coming from under the hand clamped over her mouth, the men around her laughed, saying she had many dicks to pleasure. The guy who had cut her dress apart dropped his pants, displaying his family jewels, stroking his cock to hardness as he straddled her chest and then sat down on her tits. His hand slipped beneath her head, raising it from the ground and he scooted forward slightly brushing the tip of his pecker across her tightly clamped lips. With her body thrashing about in an effort to throw the man from her chest her long flaxen hair swept about her head like a halo. But all she accomplished as she bucked and twisted was to almost rhythmically push the man forward allowing his cock to continually beat against her lips. Her eyes seemed to be focused on the cock, crossing each time his pelvis drew close but with him holding her head now almost a foot off the ground it became more difficult to keep her lips tightly clinched.

The strain of trying to push herself away from the cock and his weight on her chest finally took their toll. With what sounded like and could best be described as a cross between a grunt and a groan her lungs exhaled and when they did her tightly pursed lips parted, allowing the tip of his cock to slip between them. Holding my own breath, with my lips pursed as if putting myself in my wife’s place, I waited for what I knew would come next. To my surprise, instead of lunging forward, pushing his dick into her mouth, he simply held himself rigid, as if treasuring the moment.

Without a word, simply a nod of his head, one of the other men gleefully laughed as he tore at his pants while stepping forward between her still parted legs and then fell between them. Taking his dick in his hand he began rubbing it up and down her glistening pussy lips, causing her hips to jerk and shudders to run through her body. Still not moving, the man, with about a half an inch of his dick between her lips, looked into her widely open frightened eyes, smiled down at her and muttered something in Spanish.

Racking my brains in an effort to figure out what the hell he was doing or hoped to accomplish, I exhaled, and when I did I think my wife did als,o because it looked as if another half inch or so of cock slipped between her lips. The man between her legs centered his cock against her pussy, barely parting her pussy lips as he reached under her thighs to push her long legs up and forward until her knees hit the back of the man kneeling on her chest.

She was now open to his attack, unable to prevent what was coming, but he too, like the man at her head, held himself for a minute before slowly and with a slight jerk of his hips, sank only an inch into her cunt. For what seemed an eternity I watched in what I can only term fascination as they toyed with her. With seemingly super human will-power each time their hips jerked slightly they methodically pushed another half an inch sometimes slightly more into her mouth and pussy, holding themselves still for long minutes and then withdrawing partially before repeating their action. It was driving me crazy but I couldn’t even begin to guess what it was doing to my beautiful bride.

Then, to my horrified eyes, each of them pushed forward, now sinking at least four inches of meat into her openings, her body convulsed and muffled moans of pleasure issued around the cock between her lips. As if that was the signal they were waiting for, the two men began pumping their groins forward in a rhythmic but slow steady movement and within a matter of moments their six or seven inch cocks were fucking her mouth and cunt. Her body responded as between the shuddering quivering of what I knew were orgasms racking her slender form, her lower back bounced from the ground as she pushed her pelvis in tight grinding circles against the man between her legs. The man fucking her mouth released her head and to my surprise, instead of her head dropping to the ground and the cock slipping from her mouth, she pushed her face to his groin, her neck muscles bulging from the effort as she held her head upright.

From my position I could hear the unmistakable sounds of pleasure issuing from her cock-stuffed mouth as her lips slipped over the last inch or so as she pushed her face against his groin. Her lips, which before had been slack, as he tormented her with his slow methodical teasing, now clasped tightly around his cock, gobbling it hungrily as he slowly fucked her face. I didn’t have to be told, but the man standing over me did so anyway, as he laughingly commented how Jose was fucking the punti’s throat.

Her cheeks hollowed as she hungrily sucked on his dick, like a baby suckling her mommies nipple, while at the same time her lower body beat a tattoo into the hairy crotch of the man between her legs. I was both disgusted and mesmerized that these men had awakened such unabashed want and depravity in her. And despite the fact I was witnessing the willing surrender and self-debasement of my young bride to these men’s sexual dominance, or maybe because of it, I felt a stirring in my loins. My cock felt as if it were a lead pipe and the ache in my nuts hurt for want of relief.

Just when I thought I couldn’t watch another second, both men held themselves tightly to her mouth and cunt, sighing lustfully. No one had to be told that they were flooding her body cavities with sperm, it was unmistakable. The clinching of their buttocks, along with the shuddering of their shoulders and lustful groans, told the tale. My love’s body, as if in answer, lurched from the ground, physically lifting the men as spasms racked her. Her mouth opened, emitting a gargled squeal and then she slumped to the ground; her face by chance turning toward me to look with unseeing, dulled, eyes in my direction as cum dribbled from her slack lips to slide down her left cheek and pool in the red clay dirt.

I felt myself being pulled from the ground. Pushed to my love’s still twitching prone body, as the men climbed from atop her, boastfully bragging to their compatriots of their ability to satisfy the slut bride’s sexual hunger. Gently cradling her in my arms and whispering words of love, I wiped the cum from her cheek and then, with hatred, I looked into their smiling faces with a lump in my throat, asking if they were finished. I should have asked if they were satisfied, but which ever way I would have phrased the question I would have gotten the same answer.

Pulling her from my arms and standing her upright, they tore away the remnants of her wedding dress, saying the punti trash had no use for so many clothes, then led her naked to the small gas station/store. When she reappeared I was both shocked and surprised at her appearance. They had draped what looked like a small skirt, barely large enough for some pre-teen, about her hips, like a sarong, tying it together at her left hip, leaving her whole left leg uncovered as it drooped from the knot to her right leg barely covering her crotch and small but tight buttocks as it fell to about six inches above her right knee. The blouse on the other hand was large, it appeared to be a pull over type, but again, they had improvised, cutting at least ten or so inches from the middle and then rolling the lower part to just below her breast and tying it together. The way they had tied it together left most of her breast exposed.

The outfit was seductively sexual, almost perverted. As I looked at her, standing before me on still-shaking legs, my loins stirred and then it hit me like a brick between the eyes. They had used the material cut from the blouse for her skirt. Pushing me toward our car, they squeezed me between two of them in the back seat as three others climbed in front while my wife was led to an old beat up 60’s Lincoln by the three remaining men. Within a mile or so the Lincoln pulled from the main road onto what looked more or less like a dirt path cutting across barren scrub covered land. For almost two hours we followed the Lincoln and not until dusk did we stop. Lighting a fire one of them scrounged together some food and, with me tied to a tree, they told my wife to feed me. Whenever I tried to talk to her she simply hung her head without answering and then after feeding me she crawled a few feet away to eat.

Watching her as she ate, I was knocked almost stupid when, before she was finished, one of them called to her in broken English and she jumped gracefully to her feet. I watched mystified as she seductively walked to where they sat and then, without a word being spoken, one of the men reached out, caressing her left hip and with a smile on her lips she dropped to the ground between two of them. Within what seemed like seconds their hands began to roam freely over her body, squeezing her breast and probing between her thighs while their lips played over her face and neck.

Suddenly, the one who had fucked her first, I’ll call him Pedro, because I never did learn their names, appeared beside me. Leaning against the tree, he began speaking to me in broken English. Holding his hands in front of his chest and shaking them, he chuckled, saying that my punti had nice knockers, small and firm with no need for a bra, unlike many Mexican women; who’s tits sagged by the time they were sixteen. Turning from me for a second, he yelled something in Spanish I didn’t understand, and with uproarious laughter two of them jumped up, throwing a blanket between me and the fire. Pointing at the blanket he started to say something but slipped back into Spanish and when I looked stupidly at him, he held up one hand, forming a circle while with a finger of his other hand he pushed into it grinning broadly. I got the message. The one I’ll call Jesus from now on stepped in front of my wife, touching her cheek and as she turned her face to him, he dropped his hand to his crotch, gently squeezing and shaking his cock and balls. Without a word between them she rose gracefully to her feet, slipping into his arms as he turned her toward me and the blanket that I could have touched if I hadn’t been tied.

Standing before me on the blanket Jesus began kissing my wife while running his hands over her body before cupping her ass cheeks and pulling her tighter to him. Padro pushed against my head, jabbering at me, as together, Jesus and my wife, with lips still locked together in a passionate kiss, slowly sank to the blanket. Before they reached the blanket he had untied her blouse letting her breasts spring free as he pinched and rolled her nipples between his stubby brown fingers. As they lay only inches from me his head lowered to her breast nibbling across her tits before sucking each nipple in turn into his mouth and then pushing her skirt aside, he pushed his hand between her legs, feeling her pussy.

I had been too shocked by Sharon’s actions to pay much attention to Padro’s words but, as another figure stepped from beyond the firelight to lay beside them, his broken words became crystal clear.

“Look, look at your loving wife Richard. Is she not an obedient whore for my men? —- Do you not see how your wife grinds against Jesus, whimpering with need as he kisses her and plays with her pussy, a pussy that yearns for men’s cock’s? Cock’s like my compatriot’s have. —- Ahhh yes my gringo friend, your wife’s pussy will make many happy, —- I personally will see to it that her yearnings are satisfied. —- Look my friend, Manuel has joined them. Maybe he thinks Jesus’ cock will not be enough, so he wants for her special treat. Maybe like earlier, you, me, watch gringo bride do same time together, much pleasure for her. —- Yes, I think that is so, I think so much, see how she moves between them as they feel her body.” It was true, my wife, who had until that afternoon never known another man, was almost groveling as the men sandwiched her slender form between them. Her fingers had somehow opened their pants, pulling their cock’s free and as Jesus’ hand continued to delve between her parted legs, fingering her pussy, she stroked their cock’s lovingly. Padro was again talking, almost as if to himself, vividly describing the scene unfolding before my disbelieving eyes, telling how with a simple touch by Manuel to her chin, my wife shifted, drawing her legs under her and turning her face to the men as they sat with opened legs before her.

Lowering her face to first Manuel and then Jesus minutes later, she opened her mouth taking each of their cocks in turn coating them with saliva as her lips traveled the full length’s of their cock’s. Stepping onto the blanket, the one I’ll call Roberto stepped behind my wife’s upturned buttocks as her head bobbed up and down on first one, and then the others cock’s. Looking at me with a smile creasing his weather-beaten face, he unzipped his pants, pulling his dong free, stroking it as he brushed her sarong from her buttocks and then knelt behind her, teasingly rubbing the engorged head up and down her cunt lips. Padro was asking if I had noticed that nothing was said; that like an obedient whore my wife, with the simple touch of a mans hand, knew what he wanted. As if to prove what he said beyond more than what I had already witnessed, his friend Roberto placed a hand on the small of Sharon’s back. Her hands, which she held behind her back as if handcuffed while she slavishly slurped on Jesus’ and Manuel’s cock’s, dropped to her buttocks, splaying her ass cheeks apart, while simultaneously spreading her legs.

I’d had trouble comprehending Sharon’s actions since we had stopped that evening, but what I was witnessing now as she willingly, almost eagerly, opened her young tender body to them defied understanding. As Roberto edged forward between my wife’s parted legs and widely splayed ass cheeks, guiding his rampant cock between her pussy lips, Padro cuffed my head, chuckling as he pointed to the depraved scene unfolding. In broken English, with Spanish mixed in, he repeated what he had said earlier. Telling me to watch the punti enjoy two, three cocks at the same time.

Grasping her hips, Roberto pulled her onto his cock, while at the same time shoving his hips forward sinking all eight inches of his manhood into her cunt in one swift quick motion. Her body shuddered and unbidden garbled sounds escaped from around Jesus’ cock along with the slurping sounds she was making as she hungrily slaved over his cock. Roberto was bucking into her like a stud dog into his bitch, rocking her forward into Jesus’ groin with each forward motion and then Jesus twisted his fingers in her long flaxen hair, holding her pretty white face tightly to his brown body as his cock began to flood her mouth and throat with cum. With her lips clasping tightly around the base of his cock and her nose pressed flaredly into his groin hairs, her throat muscles milked and massaged his torrid hardness draining Jesus’ testicles of every last drop of cum. As his fingers relaxed their grip Sharon raised her head, looking into Jesus’ eyes as if searching for acknowledgment that she had satisfied him, as her tongue licked the last of his cum from her lips. Then turning her face to Manuel, her eyes held his as she bowed her face to his groin taking his cock into her mouth. Under the dim light of a new moon and the dying embers of the campfire, my young bride of one day shamelessly let all eight men use her tender body eagerly, accepting each penetration.

After the last one had satisfied himself and pulled his cock from her once-tight snatch she weakly crawled to me, placing her head against my shoulder and curled into a fetal position in my lap falling asleep.

I awoke as the sun rose to find my wife still curled in my lap, but now she was softly crying, her shoulders quivering slightly as she tried to remain silent. Unable to touch her, the only thing I could do was whisper her name, telling her everything would be ok. At first I couldn’t understand her as with choking sobs she begged for forgiveness, saying that she had surrendered willingly to them to keep me alive. And then softly she told me that Padro had told her that if she did not let them do to her body as they wished they would kill me in front of her and then use her anyway. He had told her that only he spoke English but that she would know how to give pleasure to the others because they would touch her body in different places to let her know how they wished to use her. Between sobs, the rest of what he told her in the car, as well as how she had succumbed to the feelings raging through her as they used her repeatedly, came out. She had thought only of me when Padro told her she would entertain the men that evening, saying that they would use her in front of me and that if she did not eagerly accept their cocks I would die. He told her that how well she willingly and eagerly accepted his compatriot’s dick’s as I watched would determine my fate.

With her lips pressed to my neck and sobbing louder, she told how, as they began to use her body, she had thought only of keeping me alive and how she had tried to fight the feelings they were awakening in her, but that finally she could no longer resist. Maybe it had happened as the first man had used her, or maybe the second, she didn’t know, maybe she had even surrendered from the very beginning as Manuel and Jesus had kissed and fondled her openly in front of me. But now, now all she wanted was the love I had promised when we exchanged wedding vows and forgiveness. Forgiveness for what she had done and for what she would do if yesterday was a precursor of what lay ahead, no matter what she did, or how she acted as they used her to satisfy their twisted sex-crazed minds in the days to follow. And then, kissing my lips tenderly, she whispered that she would even stay with them, willingly accepting her fate as their sex slave if only they would let me live and release me.

As Sharon lay curled in my lap, neither of us dared guess or even imagine, what the future held in store, but even if we had known into what self-degrading depths of depravity my young bride would be made to endure we would not have been able to stop it. We were powerless, totally at the mercy of Padro and his henchmen as we would shortly learn. As they roused from sleep and loaded the cars, the one called Ramon pulled her from my lap, only to kneel beside me and with a touch to her lips had her use her mouth to satisfy his morning craving for sex. After he came, he pushed her toward the Lincoln and then untying me and gesturing to my car we drove deeper into Mexico. An hour, maybe two, slipped by and then we pulled up to a run down Hacienda. Pulling us from the cars, Padro directed Juan to put us together, laughingly telling us to enjoy each other, as soon my bride would be too busy to even think of me. Pushing us into a room, Juan locked the door, but not before gesturing with his hands in the age old pattern of pushing a finger into his circled fingers indicating that we should have sex and enjoy each other.

Taking her into my arms, we tenderly kissed and then leading her to the bare musty mattress, we made love to each other as only two young lovers could. All thoughts of what my wife had endured vanished as I slowly made love to her, and for a while both of us forgot where we were or what the future might hold in store. But all too soon the tenderness we shared was shattered as we heard the cars returning and the loud boisterous voices of the men. As the door opened Sharon clung tightly to me, her eyes tearfully pleading for me to stop the madness, to stop what we could only guess her young vivacious body would be made to endure. But I was only eighteen and alone, there were just too many of them and they were too strong. Shamefully, as Roberto and Petri pulled her from my arms, I wept like a child. Alone I slumped into a corner, as if hiding, straining to hear every little sound, but I heard nothing. A million images raced before me, all of them perverted, sordid visions of Sharon, my beautiful seventeen year old flaxen haired bride of what, two maybe three days.

God, so much had happened that time was running together. The images of her 34″ x 21″ x 33″, 5′ foot 2″ inch body as Padro and the others used her in front of the gas station and then later beside the camp fire melded together and it was hard to know where one stopped and the other began. If only I were older, stronger, if only I had a gun, things would be different. Lowering my head between my upturned knees I knew they were just pipe dreams. Later I learned that after they had pulled her from my arms, she had been allowed to bathe and then, before the admiring eyes of the eight men who were so familiar with her voluptuous body, she had paraded before them in the skimpy micro mini’s and short shorts they had acquired from God only knows where.

She even paraded before them with only a garter belt and stockings; walking amongst them in 4″ inch heels as they caressed her buttocks and breasts, some of them even fingering her pussy. Her fashion show, along with the fondling of her near naked body, had the desired effect on the men as Padro later told me. Going into vivid detail of how she had sat in the lap of each man, dressed in only a garter belt and stockings, facing the others so they could see her expressions as each man took her. He especially enjoyed telling me that unlike the others, he and Petri had used her asshole as she sat in their laps and that her squeals of pleasure as they shoved their cock’s into her were almost deafening. Hours later, long after darkness had fallen, I heard the cars driving off and for a long time silence hung over the Hacienda. Had they left? If so, when would they return and had they taken Sharon with them? Then I finally fell asleep.

Light was filtering through the dirty window when I awoke and as I rolled over my body pressed against my wife’s. Her breathing was heavy, as if from exhausted slumber, and the smell of sweat, along with cum, hung heavily over her like a cloud. Turning her onto her back I saw traces of dried cum flaking like skin around her lips and across her breasts. She was naked, allowing me to view her body unobstructed. I gently parted her legs as not to wake her. I could see the cum coating her inner thighs and matting the flaxen-haired bush surrounding her pussy. As I lay propped on one elbow looking down at her a smile crossed her face and her hand slid over her flat stomach to rest between her legs. Uttering something I couldn’t understand, she gave a soft meowing moan of pleasure. For what seemed like hours I lay looking at her listening to her mutterings and watching her legs spasm as they tightened around her hand only to open minutes later followed by a long sigh of pleasure slipping from her chest. When the door opened and Ramon entered, carrying a large tray of food, followed by Padro, I could only twist my head to look stupidly at them as my arm had fallen asleep. If I had tried to move I would have fallen atop Sharon.

“Ahhh you are awake Richard. That is good, yes, yes very good. Did you miss my little whore last night? Well you see, and smell, she has done as I said. My whore pleasure mucho men last night, I lose count but no matter. She pleasure them much every way, but whore like it most when cabroan’s do butt. Tonight you see, have party, people come. You there too, watch new whore pleasure them; she like that.” As he told me to feed her and make sure she bathed so his whore would be fresh for his customers that evening, Sharon stirred and upon seeing me, she threw her arms about me crying. Between sobs she told me they’d dressed her in a black spandex micro-mini with matching halter top and then driven to a bar on the outskirts of some town. There for a few dollars and some drinks they had sold her to men. Cradling her in my arms, I looked with hatred at Ramon and Padro for what they had done, but as if he didn’t understand my look of hate, or just didn’t care Padro squeezed my shoulder smiling, telling me to ask his whore how much she had liked men fucking her butt hole as Ramon started laughing and then they left.

That day was ours. For the first time in more than three days, we were alone. No Mexicans clambering to sexually use her for some perverted act. Only us. And, after bathing and eating, she curled up beside me. As we lay in each others arms, with me whispering words of love, she drifted off to sleep. As darkness fell I suddenly jerked upright. I had fallen asleep and at first I thought that this day had only been a dream, but no, she was still cradled in my arms. As I looked at her she opened her eyes, smiling at me. We had another surprise. There, beside the bed, was more food. As we ravenously ate, she haltingly told me about what had happened after they had pulled her from my arms the day before. She more or less confirmed what Padro had already told me, glossing over Petri’s and Padro’s use of her ass hole. But when she continued, saying that after they had used her, several of them had wanted to go into town and drink, her voice softened, taking on a sultry whisper and her eyes lit with a dream-like wistfulness.

Her telling became more descriptive, down to the last detail, as she told of Padro telling the others that their whore would also go and that he would sell her to whoever was in the bar. Her description of picking her own outfit and how sexy she looked and felt, along with how Juan and Joseph on the drive into town had kissed and fondled her body, made me think I was witnessing it as it happened. Sharon had changed, I felt it as her vivid description of the ride and how she had become aroused as the two men kissed and fondled her spilled from her lips. But this was just a precursor of what was to follow, and though I knew deep in her soul she still loved me she would never be truly happy being my wife and having only me to make love to. With these men using her constantly, rough but then gentle, raping but then teasingly tender, and the fact that they were of another race and country would have their effect on a women twice her age and experience. But being only seventeen, and with only one crude attempt at sex on my part before they had begun to use her, it was little wonder that she was bending so easily to their depraved sexual hunger, willingly surrendering her tender body to satisfy their sick perverted demands.

I think she was trying to make me understand that what she had told me days earlier, about willingly staying with them and letting them do as they wished with her, in order to keep me alive and hopefully even free me, had somehow backfired. Taking my face into her small hands, she looked into my eyes and I could see in hers that she truly loved me. And as a single tear slid down her cheek I realized the terrible struggle she had gone through, and how the very fabric of her soul had been ripped as she fought to retain her love for me while denying the strong sexual satisfaction she felt each time these men used her. I had lost. Lightly touching her lips to mine, she whispered she still passionately loved me and that somehow, someway, she would see that I lived to escape. And then, looking deeply into my tear-filled eyes of love and sadness, she told me that I should forget her, because she could never go back to America as my wife, for she was now the willing whore for Padro and the others. And then pulling my face to her breast as a mother does a loving child she rocked gently back and forth as with a long quivering sigh of resignation she softly continued her story, unburdening her soul, as she made me understand that she was no longer the same innocent girl that I had married.