General Antonio López de Santa Anna walked calmly to Consuelo de Quesada, whom the grinning soldiers held in position for him, her back no longer upright as she sang to the piano in his father's mansion, but bare and pressed onto the cold steel as she lay naked on that last-defence cannon that was now silent. The very soldiers that were aimed at with cannister had taken their rightful revenge by gang-raping her on it. This gang-rape was already becoming a legend that would be spoken of right down to Mexico City.
In the background, the other women were all being gang-raped by the victorious troops, in the church and elsewhere. Their soul-tearing screams and wails sailing under the serene sky.
Consuelo had been much used at this point. The General had taken unfathomable pleasure from watching an entire platoon defile her. With her not-yet-dead father watching it all.
Santa Anna had cursed for having missed her disrobing, but could he blame his men for this? Many had died during the final assault and it was their rightful reward to urgently rape Consuelo. Now she lay slanting with her wonderful legs half-folded and her lush triangle of black hair entertaining the men from that all-Venus place between her statuesque legs. All over her, beads of sweat were like bright tiny pearls under the sun, and some semen was still escaping out of her abused entrance. Until they washed it with tequila and caused her to scream in pain as the liquor set her bruised pussy ablaze.
The men had interrupted her ordeal, sensing the rise in interest from their General. They drank aguardiente or smoked a pipe and listened to the lamentations of their enemy's women. The shrill screams from the defiled daughters pleased them the most. The entire church seemed to be breathing those screams out.
The noble señorita felt she was dead out of shame as those Mexicans grinned at her from their sun-baked faces, many still wearing their shadowy shakos, as they told her what a great fuck she was. Their vile, earth-dirty hands frictioning her sensual nakedness with tequila, each new hand stroke sinking her further down in debasement.
Bathed by sunlight, Consuelo's breasts rode high on her arched torso as the exhausted señorita feebly struggled against the men, who restrained her small wrists where she made lovely little fists of powerless rage on either side of her picture-immortal face, her dishevelled hair flowing down her shoulders and upon the cannonade, in waves and strands of dark silk, moving strands that were gently caressed by the Texas wind and defiled by Mexican hands. Amid fat laughter and tobacco-smoking joking and drinking and some extra pouring of aguardiente on her.
General Santa Anna loved her alluring lines and the unfathomable triangle of her hairy pussy. He looked at the naked señorita, her features retaining their nobility in spite of her debasement, perhaps even intensified by it. He remembered the proud maiden who stood atop that white wall before the final assault, and now this. The two images were forever etched in his mind like two opposite faces of a coin.
Consuelo de Quesada had stood so very proud and defiant on top of that wall before the final assault. General Santa Anna had seen her himself through his spyglass from afar. He had first met her when she was only a blossoming maiden a few years back in San Antonio, and he could see for himself that she had truly blossomed into the loveliest young lady he could imagine. But what he liked the most was the expression he had seen on her face when he looked at her through his spyglass. Such defiant pride! With a bust that tantalized his eyes beneath her pale rose dress and seemed to say "I'm waiting for my conquistador".
"Well, now you have found your conquistadors, young lady," the General said for himself as he removed his sword belt and sash and handed it to a bugle boy who also acted as a servant. He also gave him his unloaded pistols. He longed to join his sweat to Consuelo's. He had to have her! There were risks in raping a woman who had already been used by so many, but he couldn't help himself.
The Mexican soldiers had successfully attacked and taken Fort Alamo, and now was the unspeakable aftermath, the sort of which has taken place in nearly all cases since the very dawn of times—the urgent and systematic rape of the enemy’s womenfolk.
"Yes yes, we're raping them all!" the General repeated in his thoughts and thus fed his raging erection. Violación. Rape. This was a key word that stirred his lust. He especially loved to rip a girl's clothes off. He had missed this pleasure with Consuelo and he was planning to remedy this later, but first... Rape!
Those tits that had always stood proud and well-protected inside her corset were now crudely exposed in their savagely flaccid beauty, her clothes-freed nipples like dancing shadows under the bright sun.
The nearby soldiers were holding her on that cannonade with her legs spread out for their General; they were still groping and caressing those wonderful tits they had risked their lives to conquer, all this while the other Yankee girls and women kept on squealing and whimpering, naked amid dozens of uniformed Mexicans while the corpses of their husbands and fathers were still warm. The tang of blood was there all right and keeping company with the last whiffs of spent gunpowder, telling the tragic tale of the lopsided battle and already attracting carrion birds.
Mrs. Dickinson was now Eve-nude with the powder-blue remnants of her dress lying on the dirt, where it made the dusty ground dustier. She was on her knees and elbows, face sliding on that same dirt, with her well-loved feet also showing dirt while the sun kept kissing the magnified golden of her long hair, also lying on that dirt. She was being bred by a well-built Mexican, still wearing his shako while he was on his knees, deeply enjoying the blonde with conquering hands around her waist -- a waist that was still just as slender as she was on her wedding night.
His heavy grunting and the slobber dripping down his half-open mouth said it all about how the dusty-faced man was enjoying this. The grinning man drove deep strokes inside the alluring widow, often slowing down, fully enjoying his time and making it last, holding and caressing her priceless buttocks -- pale curves of forbidden smoothness that carried those subtle notes of honey so typical of blondes.
The soldiers who had stumbled in her had first found her a bit old, but from the moment her long golden hair got undone and loose, and her blue dress got ripped off her and her corset got brutally snatched away by the screaming, lust-filled hands, they had all felt their cocks harden and morph into potent tomahawks! Then all their thoughts had been bent on raping her savagely. And they did just that. They had been dreaming of such a moment since they first laid siege to Fort Alamo.
The man raping Mrs. Dickinson gleefully kept a steady rhythm. Each of his punishing strokes gave the wailing widow something to remember as she cried tears of grief for her dead husband. The Dickinsons had been the closest-knit couple in Alamo.
Several soldiers looked on and drank as Mrs. Dickinson kept taking the punishment with the sobs of her grief, while also whimpering from the natural process of the coitus. The surprising youth in her body greatly impressed the General. She was known to be in her thirties with three children still alive after five pregnancies, but every inch of her body belied this.
"This husband of hers died a lucky bastard!" a Corporal said to a senior Private, who stooped down and tapped Mrs. Dickinson’s derriere, then he poured some aguardiente on those curves and laughed. The soldier bucking her presently pulled out of her. His eyes in full contemplation of those liquor-shimmering buns, the man let go a sharp groan and one rich splattering of jism landed on her round butt, gracing her milky smoothness with a generous gloss of Mexican seed.
Consuelo saw this and shuddered at the thought of Mexican soldiers ejaculating on her. She would die of shame if those apes got the crazy idea of spewing their semen on her face and her tits! And yet, if she was to be deadly honest with herself, a tiny dark corner of her mind was already thinking of things of that sort when she was looking down on the advancing regiment before that fateful assault. She couldn't help it but think there would be some specks of eroticism in such a horrific, gross debauchery; but this was only in her thoughts before the unthinkable actually happened.
Now that it had happened, she was overwhelmed and crushed by the sheer horror of it.
Laughing, the contented man massaged Mrs. Dickinson’s butt and spread the semen all over it, saying it was nice and proper for a quality lady. "Your husband is most likely dead, Milady, but I can bet a thousand pesos that his ghost is watching this right now!"
The exhausted widow broke down in tears once again under these vicious words. Demons spoke Spanish and the Yankee widow just couldn't take it any longer. Consuelo looked at her with nothing but compassion in her eyes. The Mexican laughed, happy to see the widow was now broken. He got up and left his spot to a young musician, and the boy took his turn inside Mrs. Dickinson and he soon ejaculated inside her, perhaps losing his virginity upon screaming his eyes out after a very brief, but intense burst of urgent strokes.
***
Consuelo also heard cries and screams she recognized as belonging to Ann, the youngest daughter of late Captain Blyth, and for a fleeting moment, through a moving clearing in the press of soldiers surrounding the poor girl, she saw Ann's body. Small, superb in her tininess. Surreal in her pristine paleness, unbelievable in her small beauty, Ann was on all fours with one dark-haired, dark-faced Mexican kneeling behind her and holding her tiny waist with his earth-dirty hands. He was of course in the act of violently taking her amid cheers and catcalls and leers. So shameless! His face looked radiantly joyful, just as if he were just crowned the king of the world, and then the press of men hid Ann from her sight, but Consuelo did hear some loud grunting and knew the man was emptying his balls inside Ann Blyth.
General Santa Anna now stood towering above Consuelo, with his bottle of tequila in hand as the fat Captain formally saluted him, grinning with his eyes always locked on the naked señorita.
Consuelo de Quesada raised her weary head, her neck aching from her long bout of relentless bobbing... She saw Santa Anna smiling down on her, his eyes feasting on her defiled beauty like a swine. She felt pained and bruised everywhere and took some scraps of satisfaction from knowing that those purple bruises smearing her grace were depriving the General from seeing her in her original beauty. She hoped he wasn't going to bother with raping her himself now that she had been left in such a debased state.
“Your Excellency must be very proud now!” Consuelo snarled.
Her pretty face had frowning eyebrows, although very fine and delicate eyebrows that were the polar opposite of that lush carpet of hair she had down there, between her intensely pale thighs that seamlessly ran into her child-bearing hips, with a slim waist that now carried dark bruises where men had violently held her while they took their satisfaction. Their forced kisses had long erased the fancy rouge on her lips.
“Oh, Milady… You must know that I’m always proud of following military traditions,” General Santa Anna replied with a mellow tone and casting a very amused gaze on the helpless señorita.
In the background, Ann Blyth tore the air with a shrill and deafening scream. “Take her deep in her little asshole, Pedro! Yes! Yes, that’s the way!” Consuelo heard in her native Mexican Spanish.
The young maiden let out another shriek of agony amid the cheering troops gathered around her. All this while her father lay dead in the outer fort. They were sodomizing Ann. Consuelo couldn’t believe it!
"They sure know how to treat those little Yankee tramps!" Santa Anna commented.
“Shame on you, General! May you rot in hell with the fiends of the Pit!” Consuelo spat out, spitting toward him, but he was a bit too far and he grinned.
“Oh, calm down, señorita! As I told you, I pride myself of being observant of all military traditions, and I can assure you that all the young children are being treated with the utmost care, but all the señoritas fall under the unwritten laws of war prize!” the General replied in articulate English as a way to further humiliate Consuelo, whose father had fought on the Yankee side.
“You wear that rich uniform, General, but you’re nothing but a vile brigand!”
Uncaring of Consuelo’s hot words, General Santa Anna threw off his bicorn, showing her his dark hair, still all black into his early forties. Now feeling the freshness of his sweat under that wayward wind, he rushed at her like an avid pirate, filled with lust for the señorita’s colonial-white titties!
“Noo! Nooo, don’t you touch me, filthy pig!”
"Santa Anna! You won't get away with this!" Consuelo's father said from where he sat and lent prostrated against the wall of a building.
Consuelo spat in the General's face, and he just smiled and sank between those lovely orbs he had guessed through her dress, and ardently desired, when he was looking at her through his spyglass before the assault.
He filled his nostrils with her youthful scent. She was intoxicating! He then took his bottle and generously spilled tequila on Consuelo’s breasts! He loved the proximity of her nipples. Gorgeous under that sun!
And he began to lick them, tasting the tequila mixed with her girly essence and scent!
"AAahrrr! Consuelo de Quesada, I have waited a long time for this!"
Consuelo writhed and cursed at him as the olive-faced soldiers holding her had a good laugh while their General took one of her nipples in his mouth and caressed the tiny texture of her bud of rose through his tongue. He learned that Consuelo de Quesada had brownish nipples and subtle goose bumps on neat areolas that were perfectly circular. She was aristocratic everywhere. She even retained the natural pride in her looks even after a platoon of his men had rolled over her in their collective lust.
Consuelo screamed and squealed as if she had a venomous rattlesnake biting that nipple! But there was diffuse warmth and pleasure that started to irradiate from that side of her bust.
As the General gleefully sucked her left nipple, he cupped her other tit and gently pressed it, forming a cone of silky paste in his sun-baked hand. He held it and felt how it yielded to his gentle grip. He loved the contrasting milky whiteness of those tits he was now seeing from so close!
“Ahh, Consuelo! You have a lot of power over my men! If I had not allowed them to rape you, they would have mutinied and raped you anyway! I can hardly blame them,” the General said in English.
Consuelo was angry at herself, but she was powerless to stop the notes of pleasure that now radiated through her entire torso. And this was happening while James Bowie lay dead with his blood still warm! She called James's name, because she would have wanted him to save her, and because deep down, she would have wanted him to watch and partake.
Consuelo felt so ashamed! So guilty! How could she be thinking such things?!
“Aaaahh, naoooo! NOOO! NOOO! You filthy pig! Brigand! Pirate!” Consuelo snapped, but every time she cursed or screamed, her forced pleasure grew within her and reached a new level of whorish debasement.
Consuelo de Quesada was now a whore for the entire regiment, a plaything to do as they please with, and that notion drove juices of savage arousal in her womanhood. She found, raging against herself, that it felt ungodly erotic! She hated the General! Hated his men for violating and twisting her soul. Her young body was no longer hers. But it was only reacting as a way to lessen her pain and pang. As a way to survive.
“Yes, bonita señorita! Yes! You are now the tramp for myself and all the brigade! You and every single señorita within these walls!” General Santa Anna taunted her.
As he spoke, he went lower and licked the underside of Consuelo’s divine breasts!
She tasted so lovely! It was that precise spot where shadows gracefully highlighted the noble shapes of her breathing, moving bust. The heat emanating from her sweaty body made the General sweatier. She was no marble statue; she was flesh that yielded readily under his touch, and she was far more graceful than Pygmalion’s statue that once took life to give all her love to her maker.
“You, devil! Filthy devil! Noo! No! Don’t! Please, no! Stop this! Noo!”
Consuelo kept cursing at the General, who was now licking and kissing her navel and abdomen, all just as graceful as the rest of her. The old shark had an uncanny ability to deduce and understand her most secret desires.
She felt he knew that each time she cursed and protested, she was deepening that mechanical arousal in her. This was priceless! The General loved those moments that no power nor money could ever buy. He congratulated himself for his crossing of the Rio Grande. His campaign could prove very costly, but it had brought a priceless side-result -- the taking of Consuelo!
Feeling his raging erection as it pushed hard at the front of his trousers, General Santa Anna went further down on Consuelo's unwilling abdomen. He felt her writhing and enjoyed it. Heard her father's powerless threats and liked them even more. First washing her skin with tequila, he let his tongue mark his territory with slobber right down her navel and he went further down, all the way to Consuelo’s cunt bush of luxuriant hair that matched the shadow of her aristocratic hair, now loose and free under the Texas wind as she lay naked against that cannon, her wrists and ankles prisoners of his troops, who all anticipated the pleasure of watching their General take the fort's most prized girl.
When the General started to directly wash her muff with tequila, Consuelo de Quesada detonated with a loud series of high-pitched moans and screams! The General smiled as he began covering this shadow bush with kisses. He had wooed this wench a few years back when Consuelo was only fourteen, even though he was married, when on a visit in San Antonio. Her father had showed him the door upon finding his daughter being courted without honorable intentions, by a married man old enough to be her father.
Now forty-two while Consuelo was nearly nineteen, the General tasted the sweet taste of revenge as he buried his tongue inside her! Hearing the loud sobs and protests from her mortally wounded father, he ignored the vile taste of semen from the previous rapes, also tasted the tequila and was fully taken by a sense of absolute conquest and victory. His erection was stiff and raging as his tongue rimmed Consuelo's pussy and forced moans and whimpers out of her.
He gave Consuelo a skillful cunnilingus as she moaned and begged and screamed amid the laughing Mexicans, who steadily kept her pinned to that cannon.
Consuelo learned that there had been a further step down for her to sink as that round of laughter deafened her and blew in her crimson face as she tried to keep herself from whimpering and failed miserably, her exhausted body ruling over her will as the General's tongue kept insisting right where she usually touched herself when alone.
She heard the outcries of her father! And she felt so ashamed! And guilty. As if it were her own fault. As if she were the one to blame for being so beautiful, so wildly desired by men. She wasn't stupid. She knew since a very young age what power she had.
And now her mind imposed its world of shameful fantasies.
"I'd rather be taken by a Negro slave than by a swine like you!" Consuelo snarled.
Her eyes moved to the spot where her father lay with a ball in his gut. She felt his gaze on her! The General's twirling tongue inside her, now another pouring of tequila on her breasts, now they were getting cupped and kneaded by that same stout Sergeant who had previously raped her -- the bear of a man began to suck them! She felt his thick beard brush her skin and it added to her forced arousal. Santa Madre de Dios! The devils! They were about to make her orgasm against her will!
Consuelo began screaming and groaning... “NNNAAOOOOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! STop!!! STop this please no! NOT IN FRONT OF FATHER... FATHER... I'M SORR... aaaaAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa nnNNNAAOOOoooooo!!!”
And she powerfully climaxed, her tits swollen under the thickly bearded Sergeant sucking them! She squirted and gave Santa Anna the unfathomable satisfaction as he knew she was having it!
General Santa Anna got his chin and mouth wet with her juices as Consuelo came in the arms of her rapists.
“Now, señorita! Now!!!” Santa Anna said as he stood up and quickly unbuttoned his ivory white trousers under his Navy-blue jacket that was adorned with a full General’s epaulets and much gold at the bottom of his sleeves. More gold too where his buttons were neatly fastened over his handsome build.
"Now señorita! Oooh, I've waited for this moment for a long long time..."
The General let out his jutting erection, which was veiny and of a warm olive complexion with an uncircumcised, very Catholic punching head that seemed specially made to ram Consuelo.
“NOOOO! General! Nooo! Think of your honor! Noo, please…” Consuelo squealed, her eyes rounded with horror as the older man grabbed her legs and caressed her wonderfully silky skin, unable to get enough of her alluring lines.
He propped her legs all the way up and, grabbing her ankles, he brought Consuelo’s feet right at his face, where he kissed her toes and brushed the sensitive skin of her lily-white foot against his deeply olive face, enjoying her pure girliness as he began licking those dainty feet and sucking all their wonderful taste.
General Santa Anna adored a señorita’s feet. He had planned doing this from the moment he had spotted and recognized Consuelo through his spyglass as she stood by her father. Sweet victory! God had let this happen! Whatever the price fate had in store for him in exchange for this joy, Santa Anna was willing to pay. She was worth it! No other feet had such a powerful effect on him!
His men and the stout Sergeant held her for him with her legs propped straight up, where those divine feet were kept hovering near the General's face, always keeping her pinned where her back was gracing that dark cannon. Most of the soldiers restraining her had an ungodly raging erection, once again, as they enjoyed her scent and beauty, and they knew their General. When he’d be done, he would let them rape her all they wanted, again, again and again for something like two hours more. The soldiers worshiped him, and now they worshiped Consuelo even more.
“Now, señorita, now!!!” Santa Anna repeated. He showed her a condom made of sheep gut. "I could have used one of those, señorita de Quesada, but no! (He throws it away.) No, I want to feel you for real. You're worth the risk! And what if I get you pregnant! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"
Consuelo detonated in a fit of cursing and swearing. In thirty seconds, she said more foul words than she had in her entire life to this day. His father cried and bawled like a baby, knowing there was nothing he could do. Even God was against him by refusing to claim his life and forcing him to remain there to see THIS.
Keeping Consuelo’s feet by his face, General Santa Anna penetrated the noble señorita and felt her vagina as it tightly enclosed his cock! Oh God!!! He rammed himself deep inside her, right to the hilt! He relished this! Felt his cock expanding inside that pussy he had been wanting to know above all else. Maybe he had embarked on this whole campaign with her in mind.
And he began to gleefully rape Consuelo de Quesada, loving her predicament, re-watching in his mind the unthinkable scene where his troops gang-raped her with her back on that cannon! He kissed her feet, pressed one against his face as his men held her tightly for him while he hammered her with steady strokes, enjoying the quick build-up of pressure and knowing he wasn't going to last very long inside her!
He knew he was going to be very unwilling to release her after two days, like he had promised to James Bowie, on his honor, when they met in the General's tent a week before to discuss terms of surrender. James Bowie had refused his terms, but the General had renewed his promise. The women would all be freed after two days and two nights. Bowie was a dear friend of his. Santa Anna was grieving him. He truly meant to honor his word spoken to his fallen foe and friend. But as he approached his point of no return inside Consuelo, he realized this was going to be challenging to do.
Stooping above her and taking hold of her waist, the General watched the pale dream of her swollen tits. Her brownish nipples were dancing in silence, dancing in surreal light under the bright sun, dancing with a shimmer of tequila and his men's slobber... Yes! Yes! This was happening!
"AHrrrr! AAHRrrr! The daughter is raped! She's raped! Raped! Raped! Raped!! HaaYYaarrrh! Raped!" the maddened General kept uttering against the moving dreams of Consuelo's feet, which he kept close to his face, holding her ankles as he now pounded her with all-out urgency, while repeating the same thing in leitmotiv... "Raped! Raped! The daughter is raped! ..."
His men grinned and firmly kept her in position. Consuelo was clenching her fists above her head of flowing dark hair, tears flowing down her reddened face as the General kept pounding her while repeating "the daughter is raped" ad infinitum.
This was priceless! Without words. At last!
He bucked her with her legs up and her ankles resting on his heavy-golden epaulets. Consuelo was moaning and whimpering like a trollop in an open-sky San Antonio brothel. She suddenly arched her back, propping up her jiggling breasts as her body forced her again to climax, and she did climax, groaning and screaming, “Noooo!” Full of sweat all over...
The General had slowed down a bit, trying to gain a bit of that priceless liquor of time, but he couldn’t hold it any longer. "The daughter is raped! Raped! Raped! Raped! AAhhyyyyyAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRH I command here!! UUUGGH UUGHGHG UUNNdjhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhRRRR!!!"
Bolts upon bolts of hot semen shot deep inside Consuelo, who wailed and screamed, looking away from her dying father as the General took his relief.
The force of this explosion! The General's lower lip was trembling in the same way his legs were shivering as he found himself panting, pressing one of Consuelo's feet on his face while basking in the heat of his own semen inside her.
"General Santa Anna... shame on you!" she managed to blurt out amid her tears.
“Aaahh, Consuelo… ¡Gracias! ¡Gracias, bonita señorita!” General Santa Anna taunted her as he pulled out of her and looked down at her, taking full delight in her debasement. Her ankles slipped from his epaulets and her legs sank down, and he took the full leisure to contemplate the generous triangle of black hair between her thighs. His own semen was now leaking in a rivulet down her inner thigh on his left side. The victory was complete. Now he had really taken Fort Alamo.
Consuelo kept bitterly crying, looking away from her father’s prostrated figure.
General Santa Anna looked at Mr. De Quesada and smiled as he saw that the man was still alive and breathing.
“Mister de Quesada! I am so very sorry! Your daughter is too beautiful and I couldn’t help myself!”
Mr. De Quesada swore at the General, feebly in his dying condition. He was in great pain. The fat Captain had shot him right into his lower belly, and his bowels were now torturing him, more and more as time went by.
He was bleeding on that dirt in the middle of Texas, but fate refused to give him a swift death. He was forced to witness the inglorious defilement of his own flesh and blood.
The Catholic father started praying, asking for God’s forgiveness, but then he pictured the Holy Virgin in the shape and form of his daughter, in the nude, and in his mind, he was raping her with her back pinned on that cannon with her virginal tits jiggling under the sun. Consuelo was so much like her late mother at the same age!
The General put himself back together, then he nodded at his men, who rushed at Consuelo!
Her ordeal under the collective rape was resumed. She screamed her anger against fate as a tall, well-built Corporal sank inside her with absolute satisfaction. And she was forced to face his effort-twisted mug for the next couple of minutes before she felt the now-very familiar sensation of the man twitching inside her, along with the equally well-known sound of a man's final groan of relief.
Men from the country; poor men; gang-fucking her, a noble señorita. It was overwhelmingly erotic to them. And what a sense of revenge for their fallen brothers! They were gang-raping her on the very cannon that had shot canister on them!
“¡Viva la república!”
“¡La violamos! ¡La violamos!” (We're raping her! ...)
TO BE CONTINUED.
