Janet Roland - The whore makers

Vivian reached down on the floor by her seat and picked up her purse. Opening it, she took out her compact, flipped it open, and checked the make-up around her lovely green eyes. It was perfect. She wanted everything to be perfect for this reunion; after all, they had a year of loving to make up for!

Raul Hernandez sipped his coffee slowly and rested his weight on the glass candy counter of the main souvenir stand in Benito Juarez International Airport, standing with one foot against the sturdy structure and leaning backwards. He was a familiar sight at the airport; his lean well-trimmed body and pleasant smile along with his casual dress helped hide the fact that he was really a member of the Federal Judicial Police, more commonly referred to as Federales.

The reasons for standing on this spot were twofold. The first was its central location; Raul could see everything he felt was important to a special narcotics officer: the baggage area for incoming flights and the Mexican Customs Inspection Area for incoming tourists. The second was a reward linked with the first: he could see all the glamorous women from all over the world as they descended on his city, Juarez.

Raul checked his watch. It was two-thirty; only ten more minutes and the flight he was waiting for should taxi up and unload its passengers. Only ten more minutes and he could earn forty thousand pesos from old Juan Maximillian as well as produce another gringo for the prison system. Today the game of Mordida – "scratching itchy palms" – would pay a double dividend, truly a rare occurrence.

As a member of the Federales Raul held a position of power and respect. It had always been the custom of those in power in Mexico to procure extra money by selling the influence they possessed. After all, how else could they be expected to live in the standards their responsibilities demanded? Surely it wasn't possible on the salary the government paid. The system was as old as time, and worked well, so there were no feelings of guilt when someone took money when it was offered.

If I can do a few more big favors this year, I'll have enough to buy the title of Capitan sooner than I thought! The prospect of so much money for so little work was making Raul impatient. He wanted the flight to arrive so he could at rest the girl Juan was paying him to arrest and go about the more pleasurable duties of his job. Like sampling some of the young cunt at the local cantinas where he sold his protection from any local hassles about the pot and cocaine the owners offered freely to customers who purchased the favors of one or more of the lovely ladies who worked for them.

The girl's name was Vivian Long, and Raul knew her father was a United States Senator. But it didn't matter to him; the man's power and influence was across the border, and he would be hard-pressed to prove that his daughter had been set up for a narcotics bust. After all, old Juan was very smart; the cocaine had already been planted in Bogota by the same source who had found out the girl was going to land at Juarez. All he had to do was to open Vivian's overnight bag and open a can of dental powder to find her "stash". The girl could protest to God Himself and it would do no good. She was now guilty of a crime against the government of Mexico and would be punished according to the law.

Raul was just finishing his coffee as flight two twenty-seven taxied into view. He set the empty cup down and made his way to the customs station where he was immediately approached by a heavy-set uniformed guard. It was Pedro Polma, a man of about forty who, like himself, was a federal official.

"Hello, Raul!" the older man bellowed, extending his meaty hand. "What brings you to my lowly station today?"

"Hello, Pedro," Raul said, returning the greeting and accepting the hand. "I have information that a young woman is going to try to smuggle some contraband past your inspection area." The two men had worked together well in the past and for that reason Raul was very respectful of his station. He knew Pedro would play the Mordida game with him and would give way to the special search he wanted to conduct.

"Well, if that is true, I'll find her," Pedro answered, knowing that it was Raul who wanted the credit for the arrest.

"I knew you could do the job by yourself," Raul's voice was thick as he tried to make his flattery sound sincere. "But let me show you something." He reached into his back pocket and produced a large official identification which he opened. Inside were his photo and badge along with two large fifty-peso notes.

"Oh, yes… I see. Surely you will help me in finding this woman who would so flagrantly violate our laws!" Pedro's words were soft as he removed the bills and stuffed them into his pocket, handing the identification back to his benefactor.

The tourists were beginning to trickle into the Mexican Customs Inspection Area with their baggage. Raul tensed his large brown eyes, scanning each person as they entered the door. He had been shown two recent photos of the girl, with her long blonde hair and sparkling green eyes. He was sure she was lovelier than her pictures.

Suddenly he saw her. She was outside the glass door, waiting in line, her bright-blue miniskirt showing off the softness of her lovely legs. She stood unsuspecting of any of the drama that was about to descend into her life.

"That's her, the one in the blue!" Raul said to Pedro as he put his identification back in to his rear pocket.

"She's some looker, Raul," Pedro answered as the two men walked over to the long brown table where luggage was checked along with the passports and customs declarations. "I hope you let me do some of the interrogating." He chuckled as they arrived.

"It just might be arranged," Raul smiled, watching as the girl entered the room, sealing her fate.

There were five other customs agents working feverishly to process the tourists. They were stamping passports, opening bags for the quick look, and asking if anyone had anything to declare. The operation was quick and smooth.

Pedro opened a new spot just as Vivian's turn was about to come. The short heavy man smiled as the girl produced her passport and two bags. He was stamping her papers and asking all the necessary questions as Raul looked through her bags. Vivian answered the questions and hardly noticed when Raul produced a can of tooth powder from her overnight bag. After only a sniff of the contents, he bent and whispered into the older man's ear. With a perfect piece of acting, Pedro shook his head in disbelief.

"Not one so lovely as this!" he said with a look of amazement on his face for the benefit of the tourists and other customs agents.

"Young lady, will you please step on this side of the counter," Pedro requested in his most authoritative voice.

Vivian responded by doing as she was told. She had no reason to be suspicious in the least of the men. All she wanted was to get out of the customs department and find Max in the main lobby of the airport. Her pussy was still hot from the thoughts she had had on the plane and she wanted her lover to soothe the need.

She followed the two men as they led her to the back of the large room and through a door into a section of smaller offices. A slight tingle of apprehension was building up inside of her, a secret sense was trying to tell her something. During the entire walk neither of them said anything to her and she asked them nothing. Father could have found out about my leaving Bogota a few days early and asked the Mexican government to shepherd me to Washington, she thought to herself, dismissing the instant of fear with a shrug.

The three stopped in front of a small, sparsely furnished office.

"Would you kindly have a seat," Raul said, motioning to the inside of the room.