Trained to submit

El Presidente

“As much as I would like to spend more time with you, Monika, there is someone more important that would like to meet you. But soon, Monika, we will meet again I promise you.” The guards saluted and opened the door, Miguel ushering Monika into the room. “Don’t worry, I will tell the others you are safe and will return to the hotel by your own means. Now enjoy.”

Monika walked into the room, a small parlor around a fireplace, a bar in one corner, one whole wall of windows opening up to the broad expanse of a garden, even at night it was lit up brightly. She sensed someone in the chair, but she couldn’t see over the high back. Her heels clicked softy over the tiled floors, her heart pounding in expectations. “ El Presidente !” She said it in her best Spanish accent when she saw him. It was actually Fidel Castro looking so much like his pictures but younger than the sixty-five years old that he was reported to be.

“Have a seat, Monika. I’ve been dying to meet you ever since I heard you were coming to my Cuba.” She was almost the splitting image of her mother at the same age.

Monika was flustered, not knowing what to say. It was as if he knew her, even his eyes looked as though he was seeing her again, not for the first time. She sat down, someone bringing her a glass of wine which she immediately took a sip of, her mouth dry. She finally could muster a few words, but they came out sounding funny. “It’s an honor to meet you, Sir.”

“You make me sound old and pompous, Monika. Relax, sit back and take another sip of wine.” She was every bit as gorgeous as her mother, Fidel remembering that night so vividly.

“I’m sorry but I’m flabbergasted.” She turned red at her choice of words, sounding more like a teenager, wanting to be a woman.

“Now that’s more like it.”

Monika was finally getting some of her demeanor back. “Why did you want to meet me? While I’m extremely flattered, you are a very important man. What makes you interested in me?” Again it sounded stupid, demeaning her own self worth.

“I met your mother many years ago, I will not reveal how many years ago, but you were not born, or even conceived. It was only for a brief time, but her memory lingers in my head even to this day. Your Professor had been trying to do a research study in my country for many years and for many years we ignored him. Then this year your name popped up and I couldn’t resist meeting you.”

Monika studied him, just like the pictures, the beard, looking more like a peasant than a President. Did I dare ask? Finally she had to know. “Will you tell me about your meeting with my mother?”

“Are you sure you want to know all the details? Your mother was quite the woman.” And he was sure that Monika took after her mother in every aspect. That he would soon find out. Or Miguel, his trusted General would.

“I’m a grown woman. And after what your guards tried to do to me.”

“Yes, Miguel told me about that incident. It was not suppose to happen, a Captain got too ambitious. Can I interest you in a cigar? Cuban, the best you can buy. It’s a long story.” He handed her a cigar, Monika taking it.

“I cut it for you already, but by the way you handle it, you have smoked cigars before, but none as fine as this.” He handed her a cedar match to light it, watching carefully as she took it between her lips, his cock hardening as her lips curled around the cigar as if it were a cock. She lit the match, holding it away from the cigar, turning it as she warmed it. She took a puff, the flame jumped up, Monika continuing to turn it until it began to glow. She exhaled the smoke.

Monika had smoked cigars before, comfortable handling them, not sure if it were a male bonding thing or more of phallic instrument thing, her mouth sucking on a fine cigar just as good as sucking on a fine cock. Fidel watched her as she took the first puff. “The story now.” She took another puff, sitting back in the chair.

“I only knew the ending, but your mother told me the whole story after we met. She was about your age when she came to Cuba. She had come here to visit one of our many fine casinos, but happened into the middle of a revolution. We had just taken over the government, and when I mean just, it was literally that day. To say that things were chaotic would have been kind, but we were trying hard, but some of my men were overly ambitious. Like the Captain you met at the airport. The United States was not supportive of our cause and my men took out their hatred on any Americans they found. Your mother was just passing through customs when some of my men seized upon her. I will give you her details, exactly as she told me first hand. The story will forever be etched in my brain.

He started the story.

She was taken into one of the private rooms by three men, all of them carrying guns. She was scared out of her wits, hearing gunfire in the streets and not really knowing exactly what was going on, but hearing many things. The rebels had taken over the government, throwing foreigners out of the country with only the clothes on their backs.

“Let me get on the next plane,” she begged them, but they laughed as they went through her bags, throwing her clothes all over the floor.

“American pig,” the one officer spat out at her. “You are to be searched and then we will see about your fate. It all depends on your cooperation. Do you understand, Senorita?” He snarled at her as his eyes raced up and down her lovely body.

“PPPleasse,” she stammered, her head knocked to one side by a slap to her cheek that shook her teeth.

“Shut up, bitch! Hands up into the air. Straight up, yes, like that.” He watched her raise her arms like she was being held up, noticing the pair of lovely tits that seemed to reach for the sky. “Spread your legs,” he ordered her next, his flat hand warning her of her disobedience.

She did as she was ordered, shivering in fear, her arms straight up into the air in surrender, spreading her legs until he was satisfied, a grunt signifying his acceptance. Her short skirt was tugged tightly across her ass by the spread of her legs and her breasts looked as though she was sticking them out to tease the men with her body. She knew she was going to be raped.

“Hold still,” standing behind her, his hands around her waist, drawing her against him. “Can you feel that Cuban cock sticking into you?” He made no attempt to hide his intentions, sliding from side to side, enjoying the feel of her ass against his cock. She would soon satisfy his pleasure and that of his men. He had heard that all Americans were whores.

She was afraid to say anything, her body tense as she suffered the humiliation of the soldier masturbating against her ass. His hands were not idle, sliding over her waist and cupping her breasts, his fingers squeezing them too hard. She smothered her cry of pain when his fingers sought out her nipples, pinching hard when he found them. He twisted and pinched them for long minutes, shooting pain lacing through her breasts, all while he casually masturbated against her ass. He grew impatient, fingers unbuttoning the blouse with haste, two buttons flying across the room as they tore off. He pulled her blouse out of her skirt.

“Take it off.” He watched as she put her hands down and slipped off the blouse submissively. His fingers slid along her naked back, seeing the goose bumps as he fumbled with the bra strap. He opened it, slipping it off her shoulders. He warned her when the straps began to slide down her arms, her arms rising up in reflex. “Don’t move.” The bra slipped to the floor, the other two soldiers moving around in front of her to see her naked breasts.

Her nipples tingled as the bra slipped over them, but nothing could hide her shame as the other two soldiers raced to get in front of her to ogle her naked breasts. The one behind her cupped her naked breasts, jiggling them until they danced up and down.