Disclaimers:

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 OR EASILY OFFENDED BY FORCED SEX MATERIAL, BONDAGE, FEMALE SUBMISSION OR OTHER SEXUAL SITUATIONS.

The Queen of Swords, Captain Grisham and other characters and places are the property of Fireworks Productions.  No infringement of copyright is intended or revenue expected from their use in this story.  This is nothing but a parody of this fine TV show.  All other characters in this story are my own invention.

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QUEEN OF SWORDS: LUCKY DAY

By Dark One

            The Queen of Swords glanced up at the scorching sun.  It wasn’t easy being a masked vigilante.  Sometimes she thought she made a mistake in choosing her costume: black lace mask, tight black pants, stuffed into black boots, black corset over a black long sleeved shirt.  And black gloves.  Her only splash of color was a red sash, covering a silver sword belt.

            Everyone knew black sucked in the sun’s heat.

            Shaking long, dark brown hair out of her face, she turned to regard the wagon and guards approaching.  They were wending their way through a mountain pass, en route to the Spanish Colonial capital of Monterrey with Santa Helena’s taxes.  Illegal and crippling taxes that the people of Santa Helena couldn’t afford.

            Just ahead of them a tree was chopped down and dropped across the road.  She picked her spot carefully.  There was no way around that road block.  They would have to stop and deal with it.

            As expected, the point guard discovered the tree.  He immediately sounded the alarm.  Instantly, all the soldiers were alert and looking for any sign of threat, muzzle-loaded rifles and pistols in hand.  When no threat materialized after five minutes, Sergeant Alberto Ramirez sent out teams to search the surrounding area.  The good Sergeant and the infamous Queen of Swords had faced each other many times.  He understood her ways as well as any of the common soldiers.  They found nothing, for she was too far away, watching them through a small brass telescope.  Then finally, they set aside their weapons, and removed their blue army jackets and started working on moving the tree.

            The Queen of Swords smiled and scampered back down the hillside to her beloved stallion – Chico.  She jumped in the saddle and hurried around.  Coming up behind them, she was able to get close before she dismounted and continued in on foot.  By the time she arrived they’d cut halfway through the tree in three places.  Soon the tree would be in easy to move pieces.  The soldiers all seemed relaxed and totally consumed with the task at hand.

            Only Sergeant Ramirez remained a-horse and armed.  And he wasn’t being too alert either.  She smiled, for the wily old soldier had dropped his guard.  He always did

            “Do I know my adversaries, or what?” she muttered, smiling smugly.

            The Queen removed the long bull whip that was wrapped around her narrow, corset cinched waist as she moved up behind the Sergeant.  A roguish smile spread across her lovely masked face.  Then the whip lashed out, and wrapped around the Sergeant’s throat.  A second later she yanked him out of the saddle.  She rushed in and kicked him in the head, leaving him sprawled unconscious at her booted feet.

            She didn’t pause to dwell upon her little victory.  Instead, she leapt into action.  First, she seized the Sergeant’s rifle and charged the confused soldiers.  Until she came around the wagon they just knew something was amiss with their leader.  When they saw the Queen of Swords armed with a rifle they knew they were defeated.  She saw it in their dejected eyes and slumped shoulders.

            “Buenos días, mi muchachos!” she called.  She looked up at the blazing sun.  “It is mui calente, no?”

            The soldiers just glared silently at her. 

            “Not even a thank you?” she said, grinning.  “And after I saved you from all that hard work in this terrible heat.”  Her gaze became mischievous.  “Those uniforms look hot.  Take them off.  Now.”

            The Queen of Swords made the soldiers all strip down naked.  She even had them fetch and strip the Sergeant.  What a surprise he’d have when he woke up.

            They stripped slowly, giving her surly looks the whole time.  They had to be getting tired of always losing to her.  And they were such complete defeats, and all too frequently well witnessed by the citizens of Santa Helena.  Their fragile male egos had to be taken an even worse beating, too.

            That amused her.

            “Ah, Juan Carlos, you are a man indeed!” the Queen cried out joyfully.  The Mexican soldier’s cock was a good eight inches – limp.  She could only imagine how big it got when aroused.  The thought left her with a lump in her throat.  As an unmarried Spanish noblewoman, she’d never known the intimate touch of a man, much less have sex.  Oh, how she longed for her wedding night at times like this.  “One day, mi amigo, you will make some woman very happy.”  She looked at the exposed cocks of the other soldiers.  “Hopefully, the rest of you will find someone to marry you anyway.”

            The soldiers’ faces blanched.  She laughed, not because she liked to hurt them, but because dispirited men were easier to handle.  In truth, not so deep down she was shocked and a little ashamed of her comments.  None of the men had anything to be ashamed of.

            She motioned with the rifle and they started moving as a group toward the wagon, the Sergeant’s limp, naked body carried along by two of his men.  The Queen herded them together and had them start to tie each other up.  It took the better part of half an hour, but she finally got them all tied up and tested the bindings to ensure no one tried to trick her.

            “Sit down in the wagon’s shade and relax,” she said.  “You are going to be here a long time.”

            With the soldiers all secured, the Queen tossed the rifle onto the wagon’s hard bench seat.  Then she hurried around to the back.  She didn’t have much time.  Someone could show up at any time.  It wasn’t the busiest road in the Spanish colony of Alta California, but traveled enough to get her heart to pumping.  She didn’t want any innocents to be hurt trying to capture the infamous “bandita” the Queen of Swords.  And no Spaniard worth his sword could back down from the challenge, reward or honor of capturing the Queen of Swords.

            A dark tarp covered the tax chest in the back of the wagon.  As if that would dissuade criminals, or her, from trying to take it.  The thought amused her.  Nothing stopped the Queen of Swords from her mission.  The fact that her success drove Colonel Montoya and Captain Grisham to near madness was only an added benefit.

            The Queen untied the two ends of the tarp at her end, and tossed it back over the chest.  And back over Captain Grisham.

            “Buenas días, my Queen,” Captain Marcus Grisham said, smiling victoriously.

            Her heart skipped a beat.  She just gawked at Montoya’s hired American, then turned her attention to the pistol pointed at her chest.  It was no more that two feet from her, point blank.  Even Grisham couldn’t miss at that range.

            “Capitan, how unoriginal,” she said.  “I’ve already done the whole hiding under the tarp trick.”

            “I know,” he said, grinning.  “You steal the taxes, so I stole your idea.  Stolen or not, it worked.”

            “I see that,” she said.  “Both times.”

            She had a bad taste in her mouth now.  It was so hard to remain calm when he could pull that trigger at any time.  Montoya would reward him handsomely for returning her dead body.  The Colonel would either stake her head out as a warning, or hang her whole body up for public display.  He would want to ensure everyone knew they no longer had a protector riding around in the dark.

            But the one thing Montoya would love more than her dead body, was her turned over to him alive.  Montoya wanted to be the one to kill her.  He wanted to watch as she kicked her life away at the end of a rope.  Colonel Montoya was a vengeful man.

            “Reach for the sky,” Captain Grisham said, starting to slide out of the wagon.  “And step back.  Slowly.  I wouldn’t want to put a hole in that pretty body of yours.”

            “My gratitude, Capitan,” she said, eyes narrowing even as she flash a weak smile.  “You are such a gentleman, at times.”

            The Queen of Swords lifted her gloved hands as ordered, taking three steps back.  The Captain quickly joined her at the end of the wagon.  The soldiers beside the wagon were calling out congratulations and voicing joy at finally catching her.  Apparently, they had planned it to go down very similar to what actually happened.  Well, everything except the stripped naked part.

            “Hold on boys,” Grisham said, chuckling at how they were urging him to hurry up and untie them.  “I’ll get to you as soon as I disarm and tie up the Queen.”

            “How sweet, I’m your first thought,” she said.

            “You are my first thought every day, my Queen,” he said, leering at her.  “And my last thought every night.”

            She smiled smugly.  The Queen already knew that.  He’d hit on her while she was the Queen of Swords, and as her true identity, Senorita Maria Teresa Alvarado, Spanish noblewoman and owner of a valuable hacienda.  The Captain wanted to bend the Queen over a saddle and have his way with her, and wanted to marry Maria Teresa.  Of course, he wanted to bend Maria Teresa, and every other attractive woman he met, over a saddle and have his way with her as well.

            Captain Grisham was a dog.

            Her breath caught as he stepped close.  So close his tall, lanky body pressed into hers.  The pistol was pressed to the side of her neck, pointed up to blow away her head.  But all she could think of was the scent of the horribly sweaty man, his hot, heaving chest pressed against her breasts.  She looked up into his triumphant eyes and swallowed hard.

            <Madre de Dios!> she thought.

            The Captain paused to look into her worried eyes, then caressed the silky soft cheek beneath her lacy black mask.  For a brief second, the Queen panicked, believing he was about to unmask her.  But he reached down and pulled her long sword out of the sheath and tossed it aside.

            “Don’t move, Senorita Queen,” he said, and bent over to pull the Main gauche dagger from her boot top.

            His move pulled the pistol from her neck.  For a brief instant it was pointed away from her.  The Queen of Swords didn’t hesitate.  She brought her arms down, smashing aside his gun hand and causing him to pull the trigger.  The pistol fired harmlessly into the sky.  She then pushed the captain away even as she brought her knee up into his ribs brutally.  Grisham grunted and fell away.

            The Queen of Swords dashed over and retrieved her sword.  The bound and naked soldiers all groaned miserably.  That made her smile.  The Queen had foiled their carefully laid plans again.  She turned around and she found Grisham on his feet and with his cavalry saber in hand.  He was smiling, though a bit of pain bled through his machismo.

            “Problems, Capitan?” she asked innocently, then smiled smugly.

            “Nothing I can’t handle,” he said.

            “Really?  Handle this!” she said, and lunged at him.

            Grisham barely parried the point of her long sword aside in time.  For a second, she actually feared she would kill him.  The Queen didn’t want to kill the Captain, or even the Colonel.  They were known enemies that she understood and could fight more effectively.  If the Crown sent another military governor or garrison captain, then she’d be back to square one and have to learn their wicked ways all over again.  And that took time, and was doubly dangerous.

            “I almost got you that time,” she said, giving him a saucy look.  “You’re getting slow, viejo.”

            “Who are you calling an old man?” Grisham said, eyes flashing.  “I can take you on my worse day, puta.”

            The Queen of Swords froze.  No one, ever, had called her that insidious name.  How dare he call her a whore!  It was incomprehensible.  Even the Captain hadn’t gotten that crude with her before.  In fact, she was so distracted by the insult she almost didn’t see Grisham’s attack in time.

            She barely parried his thrust aside, side stepped his lunging body, and swatted him on the back as he passed.  They quickly squared off again, with Grisham scowling and the Queen smiling roguishly.

            “Dios mio, mi Capitan,” she said, impressed.  “You learn well.  That was a ploy I have used to good effect many times.  I salute you.”

            He smiled and saluted her with his saber.  She immediately attacked while his saber was in an unfortunate position, and battered the sharp weapon from his hands.  The Captain gawked at the saber on the ground, and then turned to regard the Queen of Swords.

            “Tsk, tsk, mi Capitan,” she said as if speaking to a child.  “When will you learn that that a saber is no match for a sword.  Excellent weapon for the cavalry charge, being a superior slashing weapon, but it makes a poor thrusting weapon.  So I win every time.”

            He smiled weakly as she placed the point of her sword at his neck.

            “Strip.”

            “I knew you wanted me, my Queen.”

            “Am I so obvious?” she said, grinning roguishly.

            “Well, this is the second time you’ve ordered me to strip,” he said, while taking off his jacket.  He leered at her.  “But back in the mine shaft you stripped down to your unmentionables, too.”

            “Won’t happen again, so get it out of your mind, pig boy,” she said.

            His lustful eyes raked her shapely body, sheathed in all black.  The corset ensured her womanly figure was well displayed.  The hunger in his eyes surprised her.  Though, she had to admit there was some attraction shared.  She tossed it off as a byproduct of the thrill of the chase.  Their every encounter dealt in life and death issues.  She knew he would not hesitate in killing her if given the chance.  But, fortunately for her, Captain Grisham wanted her alive as much as Montoya, but for different reasons.

            She didn’t like contemplating what her time would be like in his lusty hands.

            Grisham took his time stripping.  She watched his eyes the whole time.  He was crafty, and was constantly trying to find a way out of his predicament.  Or lure her closer so he could get his hands on her.

            Eventually, he was naked as the rest.  She looked him over with obvious relish.

            “Mi Capitan, you are a man, too,” she said.  “Though, not as much a man as Juan Carlos over there.  But the size of your cock explains some of your success with women.  It certainly isn’t your juvenile personality.”

            “Oh, that hurts,” he said.  “At least I don’t hide behind a mask and secret identity.”

            “Capitan, you wound me,” she said, and poked him with her sword.  “Now, I’m running late.  Turn around, kneel and put your hands behind your back.”  When he complied reluctantly, “Cross your wrists.”

            “Great, another sexy bondage moment we can share,” he said.

            “Well, I’ve enjoyed most of them,” she quipped.

            “Wish I could say the same,” he admitted.

            Pulling her main gauche dagger, she placed the keen edge against his throat.  Then, after sheathing her sword, the Queen used her right hand to lash Grisham’s wrists together.  After his wrists were bound, she stood up to admire her work.  The other soldiers truly looked dejected and defeated now.

            Placing her black booted foot between Grisham’s shoulder blades, she thrust him to the ground.  For a brief second, she stood there, foot triumphantly atop Grisham’s back, and staring in the eyes of the other soldiers, in her victory pose.

            “Hasta luego, mi amigos,” she said.  “I’ll just take the taxes and go.”

            “I don’t think so,” an unfamiliar voice said from behind and up in the rocks.

            The Queen of Swords turned to find five men above her in the rocks, all holding rifles aimed at her.  The man in the middle looked like a Spanish nobleman, tall and light-skinned.  His clothes were of good quality, though extremely dirty.  He wore a full beard, which was rather unkempt.  The others had the look of ill-bred peons, with less than pleasant dispositions.

            “Who are you?” she asked.

            “I am called El Alacrán,” he said proudly.  The Scorpion.

            “The bandito leader!”

            “Look who’s calling the kettle black, muchachos!”

            The other men laughed.  Laughed harshly.

            The Queen of Swords was forced to drop the dagger and hold her hands up again.  Two of El Alacrán’s men dropped down and disarm her.  Then they tied her wrists behind her back.  Meanwhile, the other two banditos went to the wagon and removed the chest full of Santa Helena’s tax money.  The money Montoya extorted from the poor, innocent people.  The money she swore to return to the poor.

            El Alacrán stole her attention, though.  He walked up to her.  Looking around at all she’d wrought, he smiled, and then laughed.  Grisham and the soldiers scowled, but kept their mouths shut.

            “Too funny, Queen of Swords,” he said.  “Very funny.  I love how you drive Montoya and his soldiers to distraction, leaving the land free for others of our stripe to roam free and unfettered.”

            “I do it for the good people of Santa Helena, not for foul banditos like you, El Alacrán,” she said, brown eyes flashing.  “And I am not like you, at all.  I am a champion of the people.  I don’t keep the money I take from Montoya, but give it back to the victims of his madness.”

            “You steal from the King’s men,” he said matter-of-factly.  “You are a bandita, whether you like it or not.  If caught, you will hang just like the rest of us.  You might be motivated by noble causes, but you are no better than us.  Is she, mi amigos?”

            “No,” they said.

            She noticed all four of El Alacrán’s men were gathered around her now.  El Alacrán had so captured her attention that she lost track of them.  There was no comfort knowing their locations now.

            “O Great Queen of Swords,” El Alacrán said dramatically.  “You have amused us.”  He indicated Grisham and the soldiers with his hand.  “We could barely contain our humor watching you capture and strip the soldiers.  Now, for a second, we feared Captain Grisham had outwitted you at last, and you were captured.  But, yet again, you have prevailed over Imperial Authority.  You can well imagine how much we love to see that.”

            “I am touched to hear I amuse you.”

            “Oh, si, you do amuse me, mi amiga,” he said.  “I like you.  More important, I like what you do to Montoya and his soldiers.”  He eyed her form appreciatively.  “So we won’t unmask you or tie you up when we depart.  So you at least have a chance to escape and continue to toy with Montoya.”

            “How generous, El Alacrán,” she said.

            “Si, it is very generous of us,” he admitted, leering down at her.  He caressed her face, letting his hand slide down her sweaty neck and come to rest cupping her left breast.  “But first, you will be very generous to us.”

            All five men jumped her.  Within seconds, her boots were off and someone was unfastening her pants.

            “Nooooooo!” she cried when she felt her tight black pants pulled down and off her legs.  “You will pay dearly for this outrage, El Alacrán!  You and your retched, sticking men will pay!”

            Next, they started ripping her expensive silk shirt to pieces.  Soon, she wore nothing but her corset and gloves.  And the gloves went next.

            “Oh!” she cried in outrage as she was forced to her knees before El Alacrán.

            The bandito leader admired his prize.  The Queen of Swords knelt before him in nothing but her lacy black mask and sexy black corset.  The corset squeezed her waist, giving her an hourglass figure, while it pushed her ripe young tits up and displayed them deliciously.  Her sweet pink nipples peeked out above the top of the corset, calling to him in the basest way.

            He pulled the Queen of Swords to her bare feet to admire.  She closed her eyes and turned her head as he fondled her exposed tits.  El Alacrán pinched her nipples, eliciting a pleasing yelp from the haughty noblewoman.  Then he began to roll her nipples between his rough, callused fingers.  The Queen groaned despite her best efforts to remain stoic.  Very soon her nipples were rock hard and hypersensitive.

            “Uuugghhhhh,” she said, turning to face him, dark almond eyes burning into him.

            “You are a Spaniard, obviously,” El Alacrán said.  “And a noblewoman by your attitude, carriage and speech.”

            “And you are a dog,” she hissed.  She glanced at Grisham, who was laying near the soldiers now, his cock fully erect at what he was witnessing.  She was aghast.  Then she noticed all of the soldiers were hard.  “Release me before it is too late.”

            “It is already too late,” he said, pulling his erect penis out.  “I’m excited now.  And once excited, a man needs feminine relief, or his cójones suffered the terrible plague of the blue balls.”

            The Queen of Swords was pulled down to her back on the hot, rocky California earth.  Each of his men took a limb and held on tight.  She found herself held spread-eagle before the pitiless bandito leader.  El Alacrán knelt between her wide-spread legs and reached out for her sex mound.

            El Alacrán ran his thumb up over her damp pussy lips.  The Queen gasped and twisted, trying in vain to break the iron grasps of the leering banditos.  Then El Alacrán spread her labia wide, exposing her moist slit to the air.  She felt a jolt of pleasure when the cooler air touched her most sensitive and intimate of places.  The Queen’s eyes went wide and she froze in place.

            To her horror and surprise, El Alacrán didn’t just mount her.  He lowered his face to her sex and ran his tongue up her slit.  She felt that stroke with every fiber of her body.  Her fingers and toes tingled afterwards.

            “Ayyyy.  Madre de dios!” she cried, back arching.  “Mercy!  I’m a virgin!”

            “Relax, mi niña,” El Alacrán said with a husky voice.  “Trust your papá, mi niña.  I’ll take good care of you.  We all will.”

            The other banditos laughed cruelly.  She desperately looked around, but saw no succor anywhere.  The banditos just wanted El Alacrán to finish so they could take their turn, and the soldiers were bound tightly and watching with rock hard cocks.  Everyone would enjoy what was about to happen except her.  And something deep in her belly and soul said she might enjoy it too, and that frightened her even more.

            The bandito leader licked both of her pussy lips, from end to end, then his hot, wet tongue penetrated deep into her slit.  He soon began eating her out very enthusiastically.  The Queen of Swords lay with her back arched and a look of shock on her masked face.  She could not believe this was happening.

            “El Alacrán, I beg mercy,” she cried.  “I can tell by your speech, carriage and aura of power, that you too are a Spanish noble.  I throw myself on your mercy!”

            “Ah, mi amor, you are correct in that I am a nobleman,” he said.  “I was once a respected Don of a magnificent hacienda.  But I ran afoul of an evil alcalde and was forced off my land.  Since then, I have been a bandito, taking what I need.”

            “Then you’ll spare me this rape?”

            “No,” he said, and grinned lecherously.  He looked her naked body over with relish.  “You can only imagine the type women available to a wanted bandito, Senorita.  Course, crude women.  To enjoy the sins of the flesh with one of my own is too good an opportunity to pass up.  We will let you go, afterwards, IF you cooperate.”

            “Cómo?”

            His dark eyes hardened.  “If you fail to satisfy even one of my men, then we will tie you up after we are finished with you, so Captain Grisham can have you once he wiggles free,” El Alacrán said.

            With that unsettling announcement, El Alacrán moved up and guided his penis to her expose and vulnerable pussy.  The Queen swallowed hard as she watched his cock get closer and closer.  It looked huge, but she knew it was only average.  But it was big enough to deflower her.  How would she explain that?  She had to be a virgin, or else everyone would think she was a whore, a puta.

            If El Alacrán really released her afterwards.

            “Senorita, are you ready to feel the sting of the scorpion?” he said.

            The lump in her throat kept the Queen of Swords from answering.  So he locked eyes with her, then guided his dick to her twat.  She gasped when it made contact.

            “You are so wet,” he said. 

            She felt her face flame up.  Why must he humiliate her on top of raping her?  Wasn’t it bad enough without his inane commentary?

            Then she forgot all of that.  El Alacrán thrust, pushing his cock deep into her vagina.

            “Ooooooooo,” she said, head thrown back and back arched again.  He thrust again, harder, and broke through her maiden head.  “Aaaiiiiieeeee!”

            “Oh, the sexy senorita liked that,” one of the banditos said, smirking.

            “What have you done?  I am ruined!”

            The bandito leader thrust again, going even deeper.  She gasped and tensed, her back arched as much as humanly possible.  It was more than she could take.

            The Queen of Swords began to buck.

            “Stop!  I can’t take this!” she cried.  “Mercy!  For the love of God, mercy!”

            Her whole body instantly started tingling, then an erotic heat filled her belly and began to spread throughout her shapely body.  It was like nothing she’d ever felt before.  It was too wonderful to image, and too terrifying at the same time.

            El Alacrán started to pump his cock in and out of her highly responsive body.  She gasped and cried out, not comprehending how anything so wrong could feel so right.  He was using the full length of his cock now, and she was beside herself with shameful pleasure.

            “She is like a wild cat, El Alacrán,” one of the banditos said.  “Dios mio!  Look at her.”

            The Queen of Swords felt everything change suddenly.  That erotic heat turned into something more ominous.  Something she instantly knew to dread and long for.

            “This is sooooo wrong!” she cried, and threw back her head and screamed!

            El Alacrán suddenly thrust harder and deeper, then pressed himself all the way inside her pussy and released. “Aye!  So good!”

            The Queen felt his cum stream into her belly, and lost it again.

            Finally, El Alacrán collapsed atop her, his dick still deep inside her body.  His hot, sweaty body laid there a long time.  But eventually, his cock went limp and he extracted himself from her and rolled aside.  She expected the next bandito to mount up, but they surprised her again.

            The Queen was released and forced to roll over onto her belly, then rise up on all fours.  They positioned her so that the soldiers could watch, saying they deserved a little fun too.  Then one of the banditos mounted her from behind.  With his rough hands on her satiny soft hips, he was soon riding her hard.  In no time her gasps had turned into pants.  Then, she was surprised again when a second bandito moved up in front of her and pulled out his cock.

            The first bandito, fucking her from behind, grabbed her long dark hair and jerked her head back.  She cried out, and the second bandito shoved his cock into her mouth.

            “Mmmmmppphhhhhhh!”

            “I think she said ‘harder,’” El Alacrán said, and laughed.

            The Queen couldn’t do anything but suck the putrid cock in her mouth.  By this time, though, what the first bandito was doing to her twat was all but consuming her body and soul.  It felt even better the second time.  The angle the bandito entered her pussy was so much more enjoyable.

            “Mmmm,” she said, sucking cock rather vigorously now.  “Uummmmmm.”

            “Look at her, El Alacrán,” the man she was sucking called out.  “Mio dios, I’ve never had anyone suck me like that.”

            “What a puta!” he said, grinning.  “I knew she’d react that way.  Any woman with the cójones to take up a sword and fight like a man, has to be full to bursting with lust and desire.  Did you notice how tight her pants were?  She was begging to be taken down and fucked into submission.”

            “Si, she was begging to be tamed by real men like us,” the bandito said, laughing.

            The Queen lifted her right hand up to the bandito’s swinging balls.  She gave them a gentle squeeze, and then raked her long nails across the sensitive skin.  The bandito groaned and she felt his cock stiffen.  She sucked harder, rolling her tongue around and squeezed his balls again.

            Meanwhile, the man fucking her doggie style tightened his grip on her rump.  He was pumping frantically now.  She instinctively understood he was close to cumming inside her.  The thought took her breath away, making that erotic heat deep within her belly erupt into something better and more exhilarating. 

            “Mmmmmmm,” she groaned.  The vibrations of that sent the second bandito over the top.  He grabbed her head tightly and pushed himself down her throat.  “Uuuumm.  Mmmmmm.”

            His hot cum bathed the back of her throat and tongue.  She swallowed and swallowed, trying desperately to get it all.  At the same time, the first bandito lost his battle to prolong the encounter, and released his jizm deep within her belly.  It was too much.  The taste of the cum in her mouth, and the feel of a man’s cock squirting in her twat sent her over the top as well.

            “Aaaiiiiieeeee,” she screamed around the cock as the orgasm rushed through her beautiful body like a tidal wave of ecstasy.  Both men released more jizm in mouth and vagina.  “Oooooooooooooo.”

            The two banditos pulled out of the helpless heroine at the same time.  She sighed, feeling the need to collapse.  But she knew she wasn’t through.

            “Puta,” the next bandito said, sidling up to her face.

            Her twat clinched and tingled with his words.  Suddenly, inexplicably, she wanted him.  Wanted him deep inside her pussy.  She wanted his seed inside her.  Then she needed him, any way he wanted her.

            “Mio dios, I AM a puta,” she whispered.

            “Say it louder,” he demanded.

            “Please…,” she begged.  The fourth and final bandito moved up behind her and pulled out his cock.  She watched over her shoulder as he guided his cock to her twat.  She arched her back, giving him easier access and her more pleasure when he mounted.  And when he pushed into her, “Oooooooooooo, mio dios.  Mercy on my soul, I love it so.”

            “You are a puta,” the other bandito said.  “Say it.  Say it now.”

            The other bandito began pumping in and out of her.  It was so wonderful.  So right.  Soooo…

            “I am a puta.”

            Her whole body felt electrified.  Every sense seemed intensified.  Every aroma, every touch.  She felt the warm breeze on her sweat soaked body.  She felt the cool tracks the beads of sweat left as they ran down her sides, down her dangling tits.  She could feel the sweat pooling at her nipples, slowly released in drop after drop as her tits jiggled and jounced during her ordeal.

            “Louder!”

            “I am a puta!”

            “Of course you are,” he said and pressed his very large cock against her full, wet lips.

            The Queen of Swords didn’t hesitate.  She opened her lips and sucked him in half way immediately.  It felt so natural.  Sex was what she was made for.  Why else would men desire her so much?  It all made sense to her now.

            “Mmmmmm,” she groaned, loving the feelings inside and out.  And knowing the vibrations created by the sound would give the bandito more pleasure.  “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm”

            “Oh my God, you’ve tamed her,” Grisham cried out.  “You’ve tamed the Queen of Swords.”

            She knew it was true.  She was tamed.  She was a tame puta, eager to please any man at hand.  Like a bitch in heat.  His declaration, and her acceptance, sent her over the edge again.  This orgasm was the best yet.

            “Aaaaiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeee!”

            That was enough to excite both banditos.  First the man doggie fucking her climaxed, pulling his cock out to spray hot jizm across her well rounded hiney.  Then the last bandito’s cock stiffened.  She sucked harder, and he released with a grunt of carnal pleasure.  His cum filled her mouth, ballooning out her cheeks, but she swallowed and got it down without losing any.

            “This has been a very profitable and pleasurable day,” El Alacrán said.

            The Queen of Swords sat back on her legs, licking her lips and watching the banditos closely.  Her belly was still quivering sweetly, the aftershocks of orgasm a pleasant feeling.

            “What about the soldiers?” one of the banditos asked.

            She glanced at Grisham and his men.  To a man they blanched.  The banditos had no love for the soldiers.  They were blood enemies.  For a few brief seconds, she feared for the soldiers also.

            “They work hard, and for little reward or gratitude from that ass Montoya,” El Alacrán said at length.  “Let the Queen suck them off, too.”

            “Cómo?” she said, startled.  “Oh, please, not that.”

            “Why us and not them?”

            She looked into Juan Carlos’ eyes at that time.  What she saw chilled her.

            “They hate me with all their souls,” she said.

            “So, you are afraid they would enjoy it too much?”

            She swallowed and dropped her eyes.  “Si.”

            “Then let it be done!” El Alacrán declared.  “Let these pathetic dogs have their day, just this once.  For once, the Queen will server the peons.”

            The Queen of Swords was picked up by two men, one on each arm, and taken over to the first soldier.  He immediately spread his legs.  She scowled at him.

            “Who are you?” a bandito said.

            “Private Gonzalo Santos.”

            “You know what to do, puta,” the bandito said, pushing her head toward he soldier’s gamy cock.

            Swallowing hard, she opened her mouth and took him inside.  Determined to get it over as quickly as possible, the Queen of Swords began rolling her tongue around the head of his dick.  He gasped and writhed beneath her.  Indeed, he was so aroused and excited he came in her mouth less than a minute into the blow job.  She licked her lips and winked at him.

            The next soldier was Pedro Alcala.  He lasted longer than Gonzalo, but quickly filled her mouth with jizm as well.  As well as the next two privates.  Then she crawled up to Juan Carlos Lopez.

            “Mio dios, El Alacrán, you have to see this hombres monster cock,” a bandito said.  “He’s hung like a bull.”

            “You’re right,” he said.  He looked Juan Carlos over, and then glanced at the two soldiers she’d just sucked off.  “Give the Queen a gift.  Have her mount and fuck him.”

            “Ha!  Too funny,” the bandito said.  “The Queen of Putas can ride him like a stallion.”

            So Juan Carlo was laid out and the Queen forced to straddle him.  Soon she was well mounted and bouncing up and down upon his great cock.  It was immediately the best sex she’d ever had.  She felt the effects of his cock sliding in and out of her all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes.

            <Why didn’t Marta ever tell me it felt like this?” she silently asked.  But she already knew the answer.  <Because she didn’t want me to turn into a slattern, a puta.  Ooooo, how will I endure being alone after this?>

            The Queen had to ride the soldier for fifteen minutes before he finally lost control and released inside her.  But before that moment, the Queen of Swords cried out from five orgasms.  She was still riding him after he went limp and whimpered when the men pulled her off.  Then she had to suck off steely eyed Sergeant Ramirez.  Then the rest of the soldiers.

            “Ah, the Capitan is last,” El Alacrán said.  “Somehow, I hesitate on giving him any of this delicious creature we’ve all enjoyed.”

            “Oh, man, that isn’t right, El Alacrán,” Grisham said.  “You won the day, now share with all of us.  My balls are aching from watching her with every other man here.  I have to have release.”

            El Alacrán laughed and agreed he was correct, much to Grisham’s relief.

            The Queen of Swords was brought over and forced to kneel between Grisham’s legs.  His cock stiffened even more.  The Queen was pleased, strangely enough, to see the Americano Captain was well hung, though no where close to Juan Carlos’s massiveness.

            “Suck on his balls, O Great Queen of Putas,” El Alacrán said, to the laughter of all the others, soldier and bandito alike.

            “You hombres really know how to make a girl feel special,” she said, and bent over and ran her tongue across Grisham’s balls.  He moaned and closed his eyes a second.  When he opened his eyes again, their eyes locked and that familiar electricity fired up between them.  It frightened her, but she took one of his balls in mouth and began to suck in earnest.  She sucked his balls a good five minutes before El Alacrán would allow her to take his cock in mouth.

            “Take it slow, mi puta,” he said.  “We don’t want the Capitan to cum too quickly.  That would surely lessen his pleasure.”

            “Si,” she said, taking only his cock head into her mouth to toy with it a long moment.

            After a long moment of giving head, she was ordered to take his full length into her mouth.  She was only allowed to go completely down on him twice, then pulled off the Capitan by her long, dark hair.

            “That is enough from you, mi puta,” El Alacrán said, smirking at Grisham.  Then to the American born Captain, “Mi Capitan, if you want more you will have to take it.  You will have to work for it.”

            With that, El Alacrán whacked the Queen of Swords over the head with the pommel of her own Main gauche dagger.  Blackness exploded behind her beautiful masked eyes.  Her eyes rolled up into her head and she rolled over and laid still.  El Alacrán left her curled up next to Captain Grisham.

            “Good luck, Capitan,” he said, as his horse was led over to him.

            The tax money was already divided up between the riders, hanging within leathern bags from the saddle horns.  He noticed there was one extra horse.  It was the Queen’s beloved Chico.  His man thought the stallion too fine an animal to leave behind.

            “Apparently, the Queen of Swords has a penchant for being well mounted,” he said, laughing as he swung up into the saddle.  Then looking down at the Captain and unconscious Queen of Swords.  “Adios, Capitan.  And good luck with the Queen.”

            With that the banditos rode away amid a cloud of dust.  But Grisham only had eyes, and loins, for the unconscious Queen of Swords at his side.  He used his head and body to push her onto her back, then crawled between her long, shapely legs.  Legs so fine and silky smooth he had to run his cheek up one thigh and down the other, twice.

            “Well, now, my Queen,” he said moving up.  “It’s time we consummated this relationship.”

            Lying atop the beautiful masked Spaniard, the Captain used his legs to spread her legs as wide as possible.  He would’ve loved to eat her out first, but she was sloppy from other men now.  So he wormed and wiggled himself atop her and started poking at her pussy with is erect cock.  With his hands tied behind his back, it wasn’t easily.  It took the better part of five minutes to finally penetrate her twat.

            “Ahhhhh, that feels good,” Marcus Grisham sighed.  She was well used that day, so he was able to push all the way into her vagina in one stroke.  And it felt better than he imagined.  Then her pussy muscles convulsed, then tightened around him.  “Ooohhhh, yeah, baby.”

            He started kissing her cheeks and neck, then began sucking hard on her neck.  All the while he was pumping in and out of the Queen’s cunt with slow determination to make the pleasure last as long as possible.

            “Mmmmmm,” she groaned, but not conscious yet.

            “Sleep on, my Queen,” he whispered, then returned to working on her hickey.  Even if she escaped today, there would be no hiding that “love bruise.”  Like a sinister Prince Charming in Cinderella, he would hunt down the object of his desire.  “O Marcus will be here humping away when you wake up, darling.”

            A few minutes later, the Queen of Swords’ eyes popped open.  Her thighs pressed together, then her legs wrapped around the Captain’s waist.  All this before she even realized what was happening, much less who was atop and within her.

            “Madre de dios!  Mi Capitan!” she cried.  She quickly looked around, and discovered the banditos were gone.

            “That’s right, I’m YOUR Capitan, babe,” Grisham said, starting to pump harder, deeper and more quickly.  He wanted her to feel it now that she was awake.  “And you are mine.”

            “Stop!  Ohhhhh!  I mean…..Ooooo, dear me, I can’t believe…” she said, disoriented and full of unaccustomed ardor.  She was torn.  Part of her LOVED what he was doing inside her body.  Another part, the prime and proper noblewoman, was horrified at being defiled.  “Save me from myself…..Ooooooo!”

            The Captain felt her back arch, and then her belly quivered beneath him.  He smiled to see her climax.  So he made her do it again.  And again.

            “You are defeated and tamed, my Queen,” he whispered in her ear.

            Her almond eyes flashed.  He instantly knew he made a mistake.

            The Queen of Swords reached up with both hands and seized his head.  The Captain froze, wide eyed.  Then she kissed him, long and hard.  And when she released that kiss, she head butted him.

            “Ooupphhhh!” he cried.

            The Queen shifted her weight, and rolled them over so that she was atop the Captain.  For a long second they paused there, looking deeply into each others’ eyes.

            “I haven’t cum yet,” he whispered desperately.  “I NEED release, my Queen.”

            Something about the way he said it, the way his eyes pleaded for completion, softened her heart.  The Queen smiled roguishly, and started to gyrate her hips.  He groaned and dropped his head back to the hard earth.

            “Enjoy, Capitan,” she whispered.  “It’s the one and only time you will enjoy the pleasure of my body.”

            The Queen of Swords rode on.  Soon, her shapely ass was bouncing up and down, his slick cock sliding in and out.  She panted and rode him harder and harder, until she climaxed, then climaxed again.

            “Madre de Dios, Capitan, I am but a mortal woman,” she gasped.  “I have little left to give.  Cum.  Cum inside me, mi muchacho, mi hombre….Ooooo….mi amor.”

            “Oh, my God,” Grisham cried.  Calling him her love was too much.  He lost it.

            “Ah, finally, my lover’s gift is mine,” she breathed, sitting back on his cock.

            He continued to shoot his jizm up inside her.  She rotated and gyrated her hips, squeezing her twat muscles just so, until he was milked dry.  Then she slowly dis-impaled herself off his still hard cock.

            “Whew!  What a ride, Capitan,” she said, smiling down at him.  “But it’s over, and back to being enemies.”

            “We don’t have to be enemies, my Queen,” he said.  “Every Queen needs a King.”

            The Queen of Swords quickly found her boots and pants, but her shirt was in shreds.  There was nothing to do but go home like that.  Thankfully, it was getting late and the sun would set well before she got home.  Unfortunately, she wouldn’t be able to fool her beloved childhood gypsy nurse, now her servant, Marta.

            “Where are you going?” Captain Grisham called after her when she started down the road.

            “Home, Capitan.”

            “But El Alacrán took your horse,” he said with wicked delight.

            “No!  Not Chico!” she cried, racing off to where she left the beloved stallion.  To her horror, she found the spot empty.  “El Alacrán, you will pay for this day!  You will pay dearly!”

THE END