Artwork (c) 2002 by Mike D.
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I looked out the window at the mountain called Cristodolores. That was the direction of my hope, the direction of my chance at freedom. If I could but make an escape and get further up into the Altoplano Mountains, they would never be able to catch me. Or even to the Cathedral at Santo Sebastiano, only forty miles north of here, I could claim sanctuary long enough to contact the U.S. Consul there....
I heard the door open and ran to the bars that abutted on the hallway, forced my face through the bars to my jawbone hinges (as far as it would go), and looked down the hall as well as I could, to see who was there. If it was a comrade come to help me with my escape....
But it was Colonel Los Lobos, his wolfish smile on his face as he walked up to my cell. Five feet of bars floor-to-ceiling separated me from him, and he stood but three feet away from me, but it may as well have been miles. He smiled at my disappointment. "You were hoping it was someone else, maybe?" he asked, his handlebar mustache curled up like a scorpion's claws, lurking in the tan-colored uniform he wore. "General Peligras, perhaps?"
That was interesting, he didn't know Peligras was dead. We revolutionaries of the Altoplano were now led by General Andemar. "I shall be seeing Peligras very soon." I said firmly and truthfully. Let the ghost of that haunt him if it would!
He smiled. "You may dream, but if he is coming for you, he had better do so before tomorrow, because at dawn, you shall be taken out and shot." He watched my eyes like a hawk to see my reaction.
There had been some hope that the junta in power would not dare offend the U.S.A. by killing one of its citizens. I had hoped...but that hope was now gone. Colonel Los Lobos smiled as he watched my face sag in despair.
"You are permitted a final request, within reason." he said to me. "A fine meal, perhaps, or a visit from one of the ladies of the town to share your bed tonight. We try to be civilized about this sort of thing."
We had talked about this at the camps. It was a tradition that a man's last request was always granted, and several fanciful ideas for such that would get a man his chance at freedom had been bandied about. None were anything more than so much air. No, tomorrow I was going to die. I could only choose the manner of the last hours of my life. I could, as he had said, ask for someone to share my cell in my last hours. I wished Juan were still alive and with me, we could have comforted each other at this time...but Juan now lay dead in a field not five miles away. I remembered his warm brown skin, his handsome eyes. The men of Cunofrio are so handsome, the mixture of Spanish invader with the Tlalep Indians who had lived here had produced a wide-shouldered, large-faced, tawny breed of men who could set your loins on fire....
My last wish came to me in a flash of inspiration. "I know what my last wish is to be."
He read my emotions somewhat. "What kind of lady would you like, and I will choose the finest for our American guest." Los Lobos promised.
"Not a lady." I shook my head. "Who I want to share my cell on this last night...are the men who will be the ones who shoot me in the morning. The five men of the firing squad."
He was baffled by that. "Most men would not wish to see those who will kill him. Or do you plan to plead for your life most piteously all night long?" He shook his head. "No, I will not have the men stay up all night and then try to aim with their eyes blurred from lack of sleep. That will not save you."
"I won't need them all night long." I said. "Only an hour or so." I took a deep breath. "I want to suck their cocks."
"What?" he was surprised and a bit offended by my crudity.
"I want to suck the cocks of the men who will shoot me in the morning." I said. "Surely a man can easily kill someone who has behaved so."
He considered this and I crossed my fingers. Then he gave a curt nod. "I shall ask for men to volunteer for this." he said. "And they will know exactly what you wish from them tonight, and that they will then kill you in the morning. I think you will find those who volunteer to be less than gentle lovers."
"I don't want them to be gentle." I said. "I want rough men, big men, brawny men. Send me in the five toughest men you have."
Colonel Los Lobos looked at me. And laughed. "Very well!" he said. "Tonight, you will get my five finest men, all of them ready to be serviced by your soft American mouth." He started to walk away, "And they are my best shots, as well." he said as he closed the door.
I sat down on my cot and trembled. God, please God, let this work!
They did serve me a nice meal of chicken and corn and rice. I had not asked for a last meal, but as Colonel Los Lobos said, they did try to be civilized about their mass murder. I ate it as well as I could, I was hungry from many months of poor or little or no food. The taste of it was nectar on my mouth, I savored every flavor, every taste. This would be the last, the last! Even the beer, tepid and flat, was ambrosial.
Done, I lay on my cot, my stomach stuffed, my heart at least partly at rest. I had known that to come here was to risk death. I must not insult my country by being anything but brave in my final hours. I had seen men confronted by their deaths crying, blubbering, begging and screaming. None of this had saved them. Nor had standing quiet and proudly, but at least there was some dignity to be had in that. I would be dignified.
I heard the voices outside my cell, men drinking and laughing, their voices blending. How I longed to be one of them, one of the victors, instead of the vanquished! I looked out the window, trying to see them.
"Senor?" came the voice. I turned and looked. It was the jailer, a rather timid man. "We must tie you." he said almost apologetically.
"Why?" I asked. "I'm not going anywhere." Bitterness could not help but flee my mouth when I said that.
"For your last request." he clarified. "The men, they wait for you."
Ah. Perhaps this would work. A moment to run and some luck dodging the bullets in the darkness. It depended on how I was tied.
My hands were bound behind my back, a running lead down to my legs which were similarly bound, stringing me so that I could only shuffle along.
I recognized the room where I was being taken, I had walked this route three times before. The interrogation chamber. Beyond could lie branding irons, hangman's nooses strung from the ceiling beams, men holding whips.
Five men were inside, five large, strong, brutal-looking men, looking at me with a strong seriousness. And perhaps, a little nervousness as well?
"Your last request, Senor." the jailer said to me as he unbound my arms. "These are the men who are to execute you at dawn. I shall return in two hours' time, or sooner if you call for me."
And he left me. I looked at the men, who looked at me, and I licked my lips, and I said, "Do you all know why you are here?"
A group of silent nods.
I gathered my nerve and said, "Well, here you are and here am I. Which of you wants to be first?"
An electrical tension swept over the men arrayed in a ragged semi-circle. Then, the middle one, a little bigger and stronger than the others, stepped out a step and raised his hand deliberately to his fly and with his big fingers, he began to unfasten his fly.
I gave him a grin designed to put him at ease. "Now we're getting somewhere." I said and I waddled over to the men. My legs were still tied and I wasn't sure I would be allowed to untie myself. But I didn't have so far to walk, after all, there were no windows in this room, it was enclosed and dark, and filled with the stench of fear, of aggression, of anger and rage, of sweat and blood. All these smells had worked itself into the very fabric of the room, and in that room, there was now myself and these men.
He pulled out his cock as I knelt before him. The other men stepped up to watch, curiosity perhaps playing a part in this. The man's cock was totally limp.
I reached out with my tongue and brushed the length of it. The man gasped, looked at me and I licked his dong again. This time, the cock, now wet and moved, began to fill. I ran my tongue over it now like a rag scrubbing at it, back and forth constantly, and this prick jerked, rose slowly upwardds and the head reached out for me, peering out of the thick foreskin, and I greeted it with my tongue-tip, kissing it, wetness to wetness, my saliva to his precome and when I rose back, a stream of it followed me.
A sigh rose from the men, it was like one thought in five throats. I opened my mouth wider and I slid this pud over my lips and into my mouth and slowly slid it downwards, feeling it growing fatter and thicker as I did so, from merely erect to becoming truly hard, and I moved my lips back and forth over this thick, fat dong, tasting the heady, heavy musk of maleness wrapped up in uniform and marched in the heavy heat of this summer's day, it concentrated his essence and nectar upon his manhood, and it brooded there in sullen patience until my mouth found it and then it roused and stirred and rose up triumphant, a powerful, pungent odor of male arousal.
The man I was sucking looked down at me, his large face solemn and intent on me. Then a smile slowly played itself out on his lips, like the opening of a door by a child, so that the featureless blank wood becomes filled with life peering around the barrier which falls back and is a barrier no longer and he raised his head and he let out a long, soft sigh. "Mmmmhhhh!"
I pulled off his dong and said to him with a smile. "Nice." Then I looked at the others. "But let's get the rest of them out. It's going to take more than one to satisfy me tonight."
That broke a tension of silence that had held sway until now, the men chuckled, a rich warm sound, and their hands went to their britches and I returned to sucking the first man, but only to wait, only waiting.
The man on my left now had his cock out, and it was rising up quickly. I let go of the first man and I leaned over and I caught his dick and I pulled on it with my mouth watering and lavished that moisture upon his fresh, dry prong, and he crooned as I pulled back on it, his cock pouring out a stream of pre-jizz onto my tongue as I did. I reached up and grabbed the cock of the man to his left and with my other hand I caught the man to the right of the first, central man. They were all hard now, all of them, waiting for me to suck when and as I would.
I let a rich, appreciative moan escape my lips as I sucked on the man to the left of center (I never learned their names, so let me number them One through Five for you from left to right, I was sucking number Two) and I felt Two's cockhead heating up alarmingly so I let go, smiled up at his face, a bit younger than the others, and I leaned over and caught hold of Four. His cock was longer but thinner than the others and it was easy to take it down my throat before my lips ever closed on him. I gripped tight and pulled back and the man groaned as I did so, a long, throaty gurgle of sheer pleasure as I pulled up, up, up, and then with a mouthful of foreskin, I suckled on the tangled mass of flesh and only then let go. My hands now held Numbers One and Five, and my mouth lavished attention again on Three.
Now there was a great relaxation among the men, they had shared the beginning of this moment and the time of awkwardness was past. Pleasure was able to seep up from their groins into their brains and they began to concentrate less on their comrades and more each on his own desires. Now the Latino machismo, which started off so timidly, rose up in full measure, now the men were determined with one mind among them, that I should service them all evenly. I would suck on one cock, to have my head pulled off by its owner and my upper body shoved over to the next in line. My hands flailed about, getting sopping wet as I fondled damp dongs, as I pumped sticky-wet pricks to keep them all busy, all busy!
Two and Three stepped together and for one moment of bliss I was able to take both their cocks at once, cramming the massed manflesh into my mouth until I was filled to bursting. I wanted to hold them like this, milk them until they would come together as they were held together, but the others were waiting and not patiently.
It became a game, a mad, wild game and I found myself caught up in it. Suck all five cocks at one time, if you move fast enough, you can do it! I tried, my body was weaving about like a madman or a man possessed by the demons, and so I was, my demon was my fate on the morrow. This was my night, this was my choice, this was my last request, I had five men displayed for my pleasure, five large hunks of Latino soldiers dressed in their tan khaki uniforms in the room lit by a yellowish bulb, in this room where so many had suffered and some even died, here tonight there was only pleasure, and I the victim was willing, had sought this moment.
The men laughed as I tended their pleasures, stuffing thick dong after thick dong into my mouth, working it furiously and then moving to another, there was no pattern to my movements now, or rather the pattern was one of shared need. I needed to suck them all and some needed more time than others, or needed this time to pause less, I was dancing among these forest of tan-clad legs, reaching for hard male dongs, sucking at them rapturously.
I had the shared moment helping sustain their passion, and my hands did what they could as well, but soon I had the men on a heightened state of bliss, they were now wearing hot, hard cocks, any one of which was ready to blow at any moment, I sucked now never knowing when, just when, one of them would squirt their load.
And then Four's cock, which I had just released, gave a gurgling sort of quiver my lips just felt as I let go, and Four moaned and his cock spat at me with a heavy load of white jizz, that caught me on my cheek and I returned to him with open mouth to have a second load pop into my mouth, a long stream of it anchoring to my tongue and then falling onto my chin and I let it be at that and I grabbed and flogged him with my hand while I nursed Two, feeling the squirts continuing, peppering my right side with joy-juice.
And I sucked, sucked and pumped, pumped and sucked. Three came next, this time as I lowered my lips onto him and I sucked as he squirted, drank him down, the thick load lumpy and hot in my throat. Four had retired from the scene and I gulped down Three and he did likewise, stepping back, leaving me with three unspent studs.
Now it was easier, now I could tend them faster, and I did, my hands milked both the ones I wasn't suckling at that moment, and One loved the extra attention and his groans gave me all the fair warning there was to be had and I sucked him to the very brink and then pulled back and my hand pumped his jizz out of him, and he shot his load onto my face, all over it, a sperm bath that ran down my neck and my shoulders, the thick drops falling like rain.
The groans warned me of Five, he was ready and I reached over and gulped him down and again my gullet was flooded with hot, steamy jizz. This left only Two and with his comrades spent and watching him, he got my undivided attention until he moaned and his hands on my head, fucking at my face, he burst into my throat and filled me with his come.
Done, howling with his pleasure, he raised fully upright again and wiped at his face.
I was covered in jizz, my mouth was filled with three heady loads while two more adorned my body and I looked at the men as they lounged where and as they could on the chairs and table and I said to them, "Well, who's ready to go again?"
Machismo cannot ignore that challenge, and Four stood up bravely, ready to do his duty, his little black mustache arced with his upper lip raised on one side. His cock was iron-hard and he stepped up and said, "Now, you are only mine." he declared.
"Glmph!" was my only comment, for I had a mouthful of dick. I sucked at it lovingly, now that the edge of raw passion was off, I could minister to them more leisurely. I unfastened my own pants and I lowered them to release my own cock, and I jerked at myself while I suckled, eyes closed, blissfully on this solid Hispanic dong.
I felt the moistness at first and didn't recognize its source. It was touching my cock, wetly, almost cold..but it was now lapping! I groaned and raised back, Four growled with his intensity and shoved me back down but I had seen. Three was down on his stomach and sucking me!
I loved the feel of it, sucking and being sucked by hot men. This was why I had come to this jungle-festooned land, this land of troubles and sorrows, this land of passions and energy, to find such men, caught up in the uncertainty of war and snatching what joys they could in the meantime. Three nursed me and I groaned, and then the others were around me, even as Four reached his peak and shot his second load into my mouth.
Now they were around me again, and I was pleasing them as best I could once more, this time wracked by my own rising pleasure, for Three was an ardent and assiduous lover, he sucked me with almost metronomic regularity and his steady pace caused me to rise up with slow, welling desire. I flogged cocks and I sucked at cocks while one man sucked me and it was pleasure, all of it was pleasure and I moaned as two cocks went into my mouth at once and I ejaculated into Three's reliable, steadfast mouth.
Then he added himself to the mixture, Four watching us with happy interest as he fondled his twice-drained dong. Damned if it wasn't getting hard again!
The rest of the two hours was joy unfettered, no hint of the morning came into that pleasure. The men, these five studs, shared me with love of life and delight in their bodies, and I was their willing suck-toy, I drained them again and again, I lost count of how many each one had, but these five men gave me at least twelve loads among them. Strong, healthy men locked in sexual congress, that was us six, and I was with them and I was of them, my hands roamed over their bodies as well as their cocks, and my fingers were met only with welcome and acceptance.
The knock at the door was a cruel awakening from the delight of repeated oblivion in sex. With a sigh, the men withdrew from me. I looked at each of them as I stood up and pulled up my pants once again. My body was sticky with jizz that had gone on me instead of into me, and I rubbed at it as I winked at them, and they laughed and in a way that didn't use their hands, applauded my abilities.
The jailer came in and said, "You are done with your last request?"
"Yes." I said and looked back at the men, five individuals now, looking somewhat abashed as they adjusted their clothing once more. None wanted to look me in the eyes. I said strongly, "If I must die tomorrow, I am glad my last night was spent with you." Looked at each directly, my smile given to each of them in turn, and I was bound up once more and shuffled back to my cell. I was able to sleep easily and my dreams were of home and lovers I had known before.
The next morning came as a bugle call, a special call, not declaring reveille, but assembly to watch the execution.
The jailers had been waiting for that bugle call and they urged me to my feet and marched me out quickly. I was allowed to walk unfettered, but there were four men and two had rifles, I would not have escaped had I run.
Marched to the post and tied to it, I waved off the blindfold. I watched the five men, the men whose bodies I knew so well, stand in their rows and raise their weapons. Their faces were placid and collected, soldiers who knew their duty and would perform it.
"Any final words." Colonel Los Lobos asked me.
"Just two." I said and I said to my executioners. "Thank you." Then to Los Lobos. "I am ready."
"Very well." he stepped to the side, raised his sword, snapped out his orders briskly, sharp sounds.
The men straightened their ranks into a neat row of five. Rifle butts on the ground, they raised them together, into the position before the final three commands.
"Ready!" They raised their rifles into position.
"Aim." They pivoted their barrels and I stared at them. Aiming at my heart.
A combined crack of five shots.
And I was completely unharmed.
"What is this?" Colonel Los Lobos commanded. "Again! Ready! Aim! Fire!"
Again the neat precision, again the aim. And again the bullets flew to either side of me.
Colonel Los Lobos cursed them fluently, called them traitors and incompetents. He grabbed a rifle from one of them and aimed it at me and my heart flew into my throat for this was aimed between my very eyes....and then he lowered it.
His teeth turned his words into a growl. "It is our tradition," he snarled, "that should a man survive the firing squad's fusillade, he is set free. It is considered the hand of God." He looked a dirty look at the men, and for good reason. They had all of them, all five, fired to miss. But the tradition demanded my release.
"Untie him!" Colonel Los Lobos ordered. "You may go. We will not search for you, but we march again against the rebels tomorrow. If I see you on the field, I shall be certain you do not survive to be captured again. Now go!
And I staggered out to my freedom. I wondered if my fellow rebels would believe the story of my escape, or would they think I had betrayed them to save my own life? Decided I would use my first opportunity to return to America, for my thirst for adventure was gone, my brush with death too close to risk again.
We had talked in the rebel camps of how to use your last request in a way that would gain you your freedom. All had been untried but now I had more than speculation to give them.
My last request had saved my life and for a simple reason. No man can slay at dawn in cold calculation the same body he has held in joy the night before.
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