Pleasure, Pain or Purpose. Book Two: Pain.

By Al Daltrey

“That’s the thing about sex. It can mean the world to one person and nothing to the other.”
-Biljana Stevens

Billie continued her trek to faraway exotic countries with the hope of healing from the devastating loss of David, the one true love of her life. Her journey takes her to a wild lesbian bar in Chile where she serves, a strict Shibari Master in Japan where she is put on display, and a tantric sex guru in India where she has an epiphany. But does any of it help her broken heart heal?
Jasmin is torn between two powerful men. A heavily connected mobster, Diego, fresh out of prison, and her mild mannered boss, Gladstone, the consummate professional. What will win out, the desire for intense insatiable pleasure or true lifelong love? Unfortunately, she will learn that in life, we can’t always control how things turn out.
Vicky had it all. The perfect husband, a promising career, and beauty. Until cracks in the foundation appear. Mistrust, betrayal, and unforeseeable twists in the road. When it rains it pours. At a low point, she comes to learn that, just when you think things can’t get any worse, they do.
Life goes on for the three best friends as they navigate incredible highs and crippling lows. That’s the thing about life. It can be wonderful one minute, and tear at your guts the next. There is pleasure and there is pain.
The only constant is their undying friendship.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Al Daltrey
• Release date: Jun 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310207266

Al Daltrey

Al Daltrey is well acquainted with the bdsm lifestyle after many years of first-hand experience. This interest started in University with exploration of bondage, spanking, and control. A few years later playful spankings were no longer cutting it; and Al delved deeper into the scene. This opened up dozens of new experiences. His stories and characters are entirely fictional; however the scenes were inspired from and loosely based on true-to-life events.

Book preview

PLEASURE, PAIN OR PURPOSE.

BOOK TWO: PAIN

Al Daltrey

Copyright 2016 by Al Daltrey

Smashwords Edition

While fully consensual, this story contains BDSM. Please do NOT buy or read this if you are offended by graphic sexual descriptions. All characters are aged 25+, and it is recommended for an adult audience. This story is pure fiction and the author does not condone any violent behavior.

The author welcomes your comments, or any concerns:

[e-mail]

Book two in this series

is dedicated to

Gina Whitney.

All she wants in life is to

make her family and friends smile.

Congrats Gina, mission accomplished.

Chapter 1. Rebels in the Hills

"My little American darlings, tonight…you will be the entertainment."

Those chilling words had been uttered by Miguel, the leader of Los Locos Locos, a notorious drug gang on the run and hiding out in the hills of Chile’s Pasqua mountainside. The three captives sat nervously in stunned silence, their thoughts in disarray trying to process what was happening.

Biljana Stevens bit her bottom lip, deeply worried. Was this mess her fault? It was her idea to invite her two best friends to Chile in the first place, and now they were in this life-threatening predicament? Fuck! David’s CEO told me to be careful. I even read about these stupid jerks on the internet. How could I have forgotten or become so complacent? I’ve become too comfortable living here, taking for granted that all of that talk was just overblown tales. We should have stayed in the city. Please, please, please…don’t let these guys hurt us. Especially Vicky. She can’t handle this. God, please!

Jasmin Stallworth snarled in defiance. Her protective instinct took over. No way was she going to allow these animals to hurt, or God forbid, rape her girlfriends. That thought sent chills up her spine. She was a highly skilled police officer, and their best chance at diffusing the situation. She quickly glanced at each intruder, assessing his possible strengths, weapons and weaknesses. But she knew she was outnumbered. Her only hope would be to outsmart them. These dirty scumbags better not even THINK about touching Billie or Vicky. If anything, I’ll sacrifice myself, if I have to. I need to protect my girls, period.

Vicky Knox simply sobbed quietly, unable to control her emotions. With her mind racing, she suddenly realized that the problems she was having with her husband Andrew paled in comparison to this. If they touched her, or heaven forbid, raped her, she’d feel violated forever. She was worried for herself of course, but also worried for her friends, especially Biljana. Billie is still in such a fragile state of mind. She’s still healing. No guy has touched her since David. Please creeps, just take our money! Why don’t they just take our money? Andrew, where are you? I need you! Where is my Andrew? If I get out of this, I promise to make us work, promise to make things better. At that moment, all her marriage woes faded to nothing.

Miguel reveled in his position as leader of the thugs. His stance in front of the trembling women exuded power and another dreaded quality: zero fear. It was obvious he had malicious thoughts simply by the way his eyes glazed over the captives. The degree to which he intended to act on them was anyone’s guess. Tension in the room was palpable and hung like a humid summer day, thick and stagnant.

Moreover, Miguel’s rugged good looks had always given him an aura of confidence and swagger among women. He was a dead ringer for Che Guevara, handsome, unshaven, yet well spoken with a thick Spanish accent. A good Cuban cigar hung from his lips from the moment he entered the cabin, and he enjoyed it as much as the situation they were in. It pleased him to show off in front of his six men as they stood watching, guns in hand. Jasmin watched with every flick of ashes to the glass he carelessly used as his ashtray.

Second in command was Toto, a tall catlike hombre who seemed as tense and fidgety as the women did. He had shifty bloodshot eyes and a constant sniffle like the kind often seen in a recovering drug addict. He scanned Biljana’s body the same way a hungry hyena would look over a wounded fawn, while constantly clearing his throat in an obvious nervous habit. The rifle in Toto’s hands was pointed squarely at Billie’s heaving chest.

The most frightening of the men was a dark angry-looking bandit who quietly hung out in the shadows of the cabin with an ever present scowl on his face. He was older than the others with skin resembling worn-out leather and a big black patch over his left eye. Patch didn’t utter a word. He scanned the room; taking long slow pauses to extensively assess each girl before circling back to eye them again. He looked hungry for trouble. He zeroed his harsh gaze in on Vicky, eyed her ruefully, then raised his weathered lip and spat on the floor. Miguel scolded him; but it was clear that any slip in Miguel’s control as the leader and this brute would have no hesitation taking over.

Raoul, this is someone’s rental house! We’re not animals. Do you spit in your momma’s house? Miguel barked toward him. The dejected gang member looked away in defiance, but it was clear there’d be no more spitting. Vicky felt his gaze on her, and even the slightest attention from him made her skin crawl.

The remaining men were a mixed bag of hoodlums with dirty, mismatched clothes and varying levels of intimidation to match. The undesirable stench of body odor permeated. They’d been in the woods for some time and it was evident. No wonder they’d lugged along a few duffle bags of extra clothing to take advantage of the laundry facilities in the cabin. If the situation wasn’t so scary, it would almost be funny. Hunted by the Chilean police for almost a year, the gang had burst into the cabin to do some laundry and eat a decent home-cooked meal. This was not the first time that the bandits had taken over one of these cabins for a night; however, normally they were greeted with a dark and empty building.

The bonus this time, of course, was the female company. Miguel preferred to think of it as the evening entertainment. Three beautiful American tourists. As leader, he wasn’t sure how far he’d let things go. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. He never did. Would he let his men rape the women? The evening was just getting started so for now he set that out of his mind, and let everybody get settled. He would handle the situation if it arose and if things went that far. He was in charge. Jasmin deduced that, and inconspicuously watched him like a hawk.

Is it really necessary that you keep these guns pointed at us? Jasmin asked, purposely softening her voice with a hint of vulnerability. She assessed the situation. Let’s see, there are six of you, all men…and three of us, all women. I mean, what can we do?

Miguel told her to shut her trap and keep her suggestions in her pea brain. But to Jasmin’s credit, he took her advice. He nodded toward Toto and the others who drew down their guns. He gave the girls specific instructions. They were to remain sitting on the large sofa at all times, hands in full view, and no talking. Vicky had stopped crying, knowing it wouldn’t help the situation. Just having her friends beside her helped settle her down.

You don’t move unless I say so. You don’t even stand up. Need to pee? Ask me first. Got it? Miguel spoke with authority as he paced back and forth. Earlier, he had sensed that Vicky was the weakest of the three, and therefore leaned toward her. Then, with no warning whatsoever…

*WHACK* Miguel slapped Vicky directly across her face!

Jasmin, of course, immediately shot up in protest and shoved Miguel back, What the fuck?!? she screamed. He stumbled backward but regained his balance before falling. His weapon immediately pointed squarely at her stone faced expression. Jasmin’s chest heaved as she stared back in defiance.

We need to tie up this feisty bitch, boys. Two of his men pounced on Jasmin immediately and held her arms on either side of her. Jasmin barely struggled, knowing it would be in vain. Billie and Vicky also pleaded on behalf of their friend, but it was pointless.

Fuck, leave my friends alone! Jasmin said aloud, knowing it would fall on deaf ears. Miguel had played her. He had slapped Vicky simply to see who among the three women would react. Jasmin showed her cards when she so aggressively came to her friend’s defense. She acted on instinct, but it revealed she had courage and spunk. The outlaws would now keep her in check by ensuring her wrists were tightly bound in front of her, as well as keep a close eye on her. Meanwhile, Vicky sat silently with her hand to her burning cheek.

Billie and Vicky on the other hand appeared more docile which made them less of a concern for escape or trouble. The two friends were not bound in any way, but were reminded to stay sitting on the sofa unless told otherwise. Jasmin was smart enough to hold back when they circled her wrists with rough twine that they’d sourced from one of the duffle bags. Her judo training would have been enough to toss one of the men on his ass, maybe two of them, but there was no way she was going to overpower all them, never mind the guns. She complied with an evil glare in her eyes. Holding her arms out while her wrists were securely tied.

Don’t push the big boss again, Punta, one of the men spit at her in warning while he looped the twine again and again.

Shut up asshole. You tie like a girl. How long does it take to tie a damn knot? Jasmin insulted him, but this time she had a purpose in mind. The other men chuckled at their friend’s expense which caused the man to hastily finish. He was frazzled at her remark, and did a terrible job at tying it off, which was precisely what Jasmin wanted. She rushed him intentionally, knowing he’d be sloppy. She wiggled her wrists knowing that, when the time was right, she’d be able to break free of the rope. It was something they’d actually practiced in her training at the force.

All the while, Raoul stayed where he was in the far corner of the room, as quiet as a mouse. He was the most worrisome simply because he showed a complete lack of emotion. Those are the dangerous types, devoid of compassion. With a toothpick in his mouth, he looked on with an ugly scowl on his face. Vicky just knew he was plotting, although just what, she was not sure. Whatever it was, she knew it was definitely evil, up to no good. The moment her eyes locked on his, he spat on the floor in an obvious display that he was more than willing to break Miguel’s rules to get what he wanted.

Okay Louis, what’s the plan for dinner? Miguel yelled out toward the kitchen.

During the previous ten minutes, Louis, regarded as the best cook among Los Locos Locos, was scoping out the options. He called out his suggestion as if seeking approval.

They got a nice tomato and basil sauce, and some cream and cheese. I can combine them for a rose sauce which will be plenty for all of us. Rigatoni noodles and some other pasta that’s here. I can broil up some garlic cheese bread. There’s even carrots and beans, and lots of good stuff for a salad. To get started, just like you said boss – they got some fancy cheeses, olives, crackers, nuts, grapes…

Miguel cut him off, Okay okay, Louis just start cooking. I know it will be good. Joe, you shower first. Toto, get the laundry started. And Raoul, go wait outside at the end of the driveway. Make sure no car comes down from the main road. You Blondie…get in the kitchen with Louis to see if he needs help, but set the table first. While you do that, I can get more acquainted with your friends. Then Miguel laughed like a hyena.

Working as a coordinated team, the men assumed their roles. Louis happily whistled in the kitchen while he prepared the food, and Raoul dragged his obviously angry ass outside. Vicky didn’t hesitate to do as told, helping out in the kitchen. Louis must have been a chef at some point in his life, as evidenced by the finesse with which he sliced and diced. He welcomed her help, and politely told her exactly what to do. While her hands trembled as she worked, she was careful to set the table exactly as instructed. The pair actually worked well together as a team.

The men took turns taking a quick shower, some of them shaving with the girls’ toiletry supplies, while the first load of laundry was in. One by one, they reappeared looking refreshed. It was creepy for the girls to think that those thugs were going through their personal bathroom supplies. Meanwhile, Miguel sat on the edge of the coffee table directly in front of the two women. He addressed Billie directly, after telling Jasmin to keep her whore-mouth shut.

What brought you to the wonderful country of Chile? Here on vacation? he asked.

Billie took a deep breath and responded, I live here now. Moved here three months ago. These are my two best friends from the States who came to visit for the week. This is our last weekend.

What do you think of our beautiful country?

I love it here. That’s why I moved here. Listen, I have some money back home---

Shut up with the money again! Do I look like I need your money? Not surprisingly, Miguel had a temper.

Billie didn’t want to answer that their grungy appearance told a different story of their monetary needs. Instead, Billie pleaded softly, keeping her voice low so that the other men would not hear, Just please don’t violate us physically. I’m begging you.

Well, I did promise the men some entertainment.

Miguel was in a bit of a dilemma. As the leader, these decisions were in his hands. Deep down, he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of forcing sex upon the women. He’d never had to resort to that at any point is his past. Furthermore, he couldn’t help but think about the women in his own life, his mother, his two sisters, his ex girlfriend who he missed terribly. He was a drug dealer, not a rapist, but living in the hillside wasn’t easy. Keeping the men motivated and rewarded for their loyalty was a challenge. This was a rare opportunity, to be among three beautiful American girls. He risked resentment from the men if he didn’t allow them to have some fun, possibly revolt.

You two might just be the thing to make our night. I have an idea. After dinner, I’d like a little show from you two. Nothing like a little girl-on-girl to get the party started. Something tells me you two would be hot together. Miguel sneered; just verbalizing this brought him a certain joy.

Billie was nervous and worried. This was a strange request. Did they have any choice? Would there be expectations after that? It would surely result in arousing the men. They wouldn’t be satisfied with just a show. She tried to push the worry out of her mind. Meanwhile, Jasmin was in full undercover cop mode. Her own personal nerves were set on the back burner, and she was in think mode. The only place that they would remotely allow her privacy was the restroom, but how could she ever get her cell phone in there?

"My guys want a show. Something to remember. Let’s start with a little sister act from you two. Then we can see where to take it from there, but first, a dance." Miguel let every ugly word sit in the air. He spoke slowly, then he totally creeped out Billie by running his gun along her arm.

Raping us will turn your gang into something that it’s not. Something ugly. When word spreads, and you know it will, your extended families will be shamed. You will have no honor. Billie confidently told him, with an even tone in her voice. He was surprised at her calm and measured response to his demands. Little did he know, but under that brave exterior, she was nervous beyond belief. Miguel sighed out loud, signaling that she had struck a chord.

"My friend and I will put on a show. Your men can watch. But it ends there," she continued, as if she had any real control over where this actually ended.

Jasmin looked over at her friend with surprise and admiration. It was a good retort from Billie. Both of them had been with other women. A vision of Marilyn flashed through Jasmin’s mind, and their escapade in the fitting room at Tory Burch. Clearly Billie had been with many women during her days at Black Cloud. As a matter of fact, the only person Billie had sex with since David’s death was Grace, the owner of Stilettos. Sure, it would be awkward for Jasmin to make out with Billie, especially with a half-dozen horny men watching, but it was better than being fucked by those scummy outlaws. Anything was better than that. Jasmin had done far worse in the line of duty. Surely, she could pull this off convincingly.

Miguel raised his brow. He was mulling over Billie’s words. She had a few valid points. Inevitably, word would spread of a gang rape. His family would be shamed. It could trigger a more intense police presence in the hills. Besides, all he promised the men was some entertainment, and watching two hot chicks going down on each other in such an intimate setting was exactly that.

You better put on a good show, Miguel said firmly.

Billie smiled softly, proud of herself. By all outward appearances, Miguel was satisfied with her demands. She was still trembling and worried, but at least for now the prospect of being raped seemed somewhat less likely. Since her hands were not bound, she reached out and patted the top of Jasmin’s thigh as if to say: We got this. We can do this.