Download file - 216.4 MBWomans Prison
Centuries before
The Viceroy consulted the Indian witch doctor about the meaning of the dream that was tormenting his soul. In it he saw himself naked and attacked by mosquitoes, leeches and snakes. He saw himself scratching the earth with his bare hands in the jungle while some obsessively sacred music tortured his ears.
The witch doctor looked into the Viceroy’s eyes and he saw a tormented man, a violent despot with a malicious and cruel soul. Uneasily he explained the dream’s meaning, that what he most sought he would find under the ground that the jungle grew from. That he had to renounce everything and be reborn, thus purifying his spirit that had been brutalised by ambition and hatred.
But the viceroy only understood that there, in the jungle, he would find what he most desired ... Gold!
His first order was to behead the witch doctor, nobody else should know of this revelation, and the second was to build the Mission in the jungle. He needed an army of men to get rid of the mud.
Since then, damnation has reigned over the evil place founded on crime and avarice.
Even today, the chimera of the Viceroy still lives on. They tell the legenof the Viceroy who found his fabulous mountain of gold. A mountain that he had buried under the mud just before the fever carried him away...
Five hundred years later and the place is even less hospitable if that is possible. The Mission is now a prison called the Sore in the middle of nowhere and jammed full of prisoners. A dreadful place where only the jungle and its creatures should live.
Two hundred wretches including men, women, jailers and jailed, live out their sentences there. Hardened criminals alongside terrorists and subversives opposed to the regime, all suffer under rigid discipline and at the whim of corrupt and murderous soldiers.
Officers and wardens are the filth of a society without law and order, subjugated by violence to the interests of the powerful drug trafficking cartels.
Nobody wants to go to the Sore; not even Governor Juarez is there because he likes it.
His orders are simple and they come directly from Dictator Tomoza: find the Viceroy’s gold and don’t let anyone out of the prison alive. In return for this, Juarez has the power of a god in the Sore. No one will ever question his acts.
This is the story of two hundred men and women who, in an inclement jungle and under the most rigid discipline, are still looking for the Viceroy’s gold.
‘I like your female smell, guerrilla girl. I wonder if your cunt smells as nice,’ he said with eyes fixed on the gap between the girl’s thighs.
Officer Aparicio raised his hand up her calf, to the knee where he waited a few seconds before continuing under the girl’s dress, going up the silky insides of her thighs...
Rosario clenched her teeth and let a pitiful sob escape her. Her ankles were chained to the other prisoners and she couldn’t close her legs no matter how much she tried.
‘Hmmm ... You’re moist ... Is it sweat or sex? No ... It’s not only sweat. What’s happening is that you’re a fucking revolutionary on heat. A dirty, horny girl who can’t think of anything other than a soldier’s cock...’
The girl whimpered desperately. A pair of thick and dry fingers with broken fingernails sank themselves into her sex.
‘What’s up Aparicio?’
The hand was quickly pulled away, as if it had been bitten by a snake.
‘I was...’ mumbled Officer Aparicio. ‘I was ... checking the detainee’s manacles.’
Agent Gutierrez had just come back from the bathroom and he smiled at his colleague as he buttoned up his fly.
Rosario, who couldn’t hold back any more, finally found the nerve to speak...
‘I need ... I need to go to the bathroom,’ she said to the recently arrived Gutierrez.
Officer Gutierrez chuckled and it made her tremble.
‘You don’t want us to let you go ... A terrorist with your record, it’s too dangerous.’
‘Please ... I can’t take any more...’ begged Rosario.
‘Why is she barefoot?’ Asked Officer Gutierrez ignoring the girl’s pleading.
Officer Aparicio wriggled uncomfortably.
‘Oh ... I hadn’t noticed. She would have taken them off while we slept. I’ll put them on her right away...’
‘No, leave it, I’ll do it’ said Gutierrez
Officer Gutierrez crouched in front of the girl and he also stroked herfeet.
‘They are pretty,’ he said looking at the hood, at the place where her eyes must be.
Rosario lowered her head. She couldn’t see Officer Gutierrez but his hands were speaking for him. That swine was looking at her lustfully too.
‘It’s a shame to cover such pretty feet with rubbish like this...’
‘Let’s change them for the old woman’s ones’ suggested Aparicio, his colleague.
Gutierrez looked at the old prostitute’s feet with a grimace of disgust. She was wearing a pair of very high red shoes, with long and pointy heels, typical of the Capital’s old whores.
‘I think you’re right ... They’ll look good on her. Isn’t that funny, a guerrilla girl with tart’s shoes on?’
The guard took the old woman’s shoes off and she didn’t even wake up, then he put them on the girl. They were a couple of sizes too small and he had trouble getting her feet into them ... But in the end he got it.
Rosario clenched her fists; her feet hurt like hell. The shoes were really tight and they twisted her feet downwards uncomfortably, into points. She couldn’t understand how anyone, even if they had smaller feet than her, could take even one step in them.
‘Better, much better’ affirmed Officer Gutierrez. ‘Now it’s just that the manacles are too loose for such a dangerous guerrilla girl. You could escape and continue to kill innocent people...’
The officer slid the cuffs down to Rosario’s ankles and unnecessarily tightened them until they were biting into her flesh. Then he undid the cuffs that held Amancio Verdugo and the old prostitute. Rosario was free of her companions in captivity but with the manacles biting and torturing her flesh.
‘You want to pee, guerrilla girl? Well, get up off your arse and follow me...’
Rosario tried, but she was incapable of standing up. Firstly because Amancio Verdugo was still snoring on top of her and secondly, and more importantly because she couldn’t rest her feet on the floor. As soon as she did her Achilles tendon was bitten into viciously by the iron manacles causing her unbearable pain.
