FRESA PERDICION BY MATT L. & HER REVENGE

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Re: FRESA PERDICION BY MATT L. & HER REVENGE

Postby Hongo1000 » Mon Jan 08, 2018 2:26 am

Thanks for posting, waiting for the next chapter
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Re: FRESA PERDICION BY MATT L. & HER REVENGE

Postby Matt L. » Wed Jan 10, 2018 1:03 am

Thanks Friends for reading our story, we're pleased at your enjoyment.
The next installment should be posted by this weekend.

Cheers, Matt
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Re: FRESA PERDICION BY MATT L. & HER REVENGE

Postby brightsun21 » Wed Jan 10, 2018 9:16 am

Thanks for the update
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Re: FRESA PERDICION BY MATT L. & HER REVENGE

Postby Matt L. » Wed Jan 10, 2018 11:49 pm

Hello Brightsun21,

You're more than welcome. Thanks for reading.

Cheers, Matt
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Re: FRESA PERDICION BY MATT L. & HER REVENGE

Postby Matt L. » Fri Jan 12, 2018 10:24 pm

Marco sat in Sheila’s front room with a couple of goons while Yolanda helped prepare Sheila for the illegal business transaction in the bedroom.

Sheila’s granite nerves now wrought with anxiety, her courage having wane since moving into the Spanish ghetto.

Yolanda felt compassion toward her friend, enforcing the illusion Sheila was a strong independent woman, although it was no longer true.

“Get your mind straight, you were tough with criminals when you were prosecuting their asses! It’s the same thing going down, except you’re no longer a lawyer, you’re a streetwise bad-ass!”

If Yolanda’s pep talk didn’t put Sheila in the right mindset, her appearance put forth the impression she was a felonious gang member.

Sheila’s black hair, long and straight, drifting over the top of her shoulders, the mascara, lipstick and especially eye-liner laid on thick, feathered earring dangling from her lobes.

The sleeveless denim shirt was a tight fit, the top few buttons unfasten to broadcast her ample cleavage, the material clipped above the waistband to show off the navel ring.
Denim shorts, a marginally darker shade, completed the attire, mid-thigh high, bestowing a nice look at Sheila’s stems while the fabric cradled her ass, giving it a well-defined heart-like shape.

Yolanda lit a cigarette, surveying Sheila’s looks to the positive, “Shit, I’d swear you grew up in this part town, you look that fucking serious.”

Sheila couldn’t deny a strange anomaly to her character, she felt released from the moral constraints as a responsible member of society’s upper echelon, and rather ecstatic about being involved in this iniquitous activity.

Sheila shook her head in agreement, Yolanda then conveying, “Play it cool, Sasha. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

Sheila grabbed her small leather purse, “Yes. We hang out; maybe you take me for another tattoo?”

Yolanda tilted her head, squinting her eyes with a kitschy grin, “You prove you’re a bad ass, I’ll be willing to take you.”

The females made tracks out of the bedroom, Yolanda knowing for sure, after tonight her friend could never go back to being Sheila Marcus, she would have to deal with being Sasha Martinez.

Marco approved of Sheila’s getup, “You look hot, mamacita, very sexy!”

A quick embrace where Marco favored Sheila with scorching kiss and handling her tetas.
Sheila held no mind; previously such a show of public affection would have angered her, now it was just fine.

“Let’s get this done!” Marco announced to Sheila and his crew, and they filed out of the apartment.

_______

There wasn’t much talking between Sheila and Marco on route to the transaction, they sat in the back of the van exploring each other bodies while fervently kissing.

Down Flores Street to the highway, the location being a warehouse in Hector’s part of the city, just as foul and poor as Marco’s territory.

A couple of Hector’s men opened up the gate, the van traveling inside the gigantic yet abandoned warehouse which set beside the river.

“You’re on”, Marco told Sheila, “You know what to do.”

Sheila shook her head with a mischievously smirk, grabbing Marco’s crotch, she purred, “And you know what to do later!”

Marco laughed, “We’ll see, if you don’t fuck up and get shot!”

Sheila didn’t realize the seriousness of Marco’s remark, and snickered, “I’m one bad ass hoochie, I’ll be okay.”

Sheila exited the van, Marco handing her a pair of large size duffle bags in which she towed toward a group of scary looking Mexican gang-bangers.

The mechanics of Sheila’s mind set into motion a tough veneer, and she walked like she was a roguish broad who grew up among the criminal element.

A slightly overweight man with big handle-bar mustache and slicked back black hair took center stage. Jose Morales, Hector’s general who took care of business while he pined away in Mexico City.

Jose was about a quarter inch taller then Sheila, and none too good looking. Clad in a dirty sleeveless T-shirt and gray slacks, his paunchy gut sailing over the waistband. Jailhouse tattoos covering his body, a gold chain around his neck.

Sheila came to a complete halt, her body language matching the razors in her eyes.

“You Morales?”

Jose nodded, pointing to Sheila to set the duffle bags down. A couple of his armed men quickly walked over and grabbed the bags, taking them off to the side and quickly inspecting the contents.

Jose studiously gazed over Sheila, his lips curving into a favorable smile, “You got a name, hoochie?”

Sheila took a step closer to Jose to show the gangster didn’t intimidate her.

“Sasha, that’s all you need to know.”

“You got balls even though you’re chica”, Jose replied, giving his belly a couple taps to ease the sexual tension he felt looking at such an attractive babe.
“Marco’s taste in women has improved, I admire that.”

“It’s all here!” A member of the street gang called out to Jose.

Jose waved over to another member of his gang who brought over to him a smaller size duffle bag which he handed over to his boss.

“Tell Marco the truce is on”, Jose handed Sheila the bag; “This is my gift to him.”

The bag was heavier than it looked, Sheila held it in her arms, “I’ll tell him.”
Something clicked in Sheila’s mind, steering her eyes into Jose’s eyes, she inquired, “You got a name?”

Jose smiled, “Yeah, I’m Jose Morales. You know, if you ever tire of Marco stop by and see me. You look like you’re an intense lover.”

At another time Sheila would have felt offended, but she experienced a vast amount of satisfaction being desired.

“You’d need medical attention once we’re through”, Sheila cheekily smiled.

Sheila turned and walked back to the van, swinging hips, a bit of a jiggle to her plump posterior.

Marco slid open the van door, Sheila handing him the small duffle bag before climbing in.
The van sped off; Marco opened the duffle bag, running his hands through the cash.

Sheila sat close to Marco, teasing his hair as he counted the cash.

“Jose says anything?” Marco asked.

“Said the truce is on, baby…” Sheila purred, whirling a strand of Marco’ hair around her finger, “….did I do good?”

Marco smiled his signature bad boy grin, giving Sheila a smooch, then stuffing a pair of fifties into her denim blouse.

“You did good, Sasha…” Marco cupped her boob, giving it a delicate squeeze, giving her a much longer sensually enthused kiss.

“Now you’ve made it into our gang, we’ll use you in other transactions”, said Marco.
Sheila inched herself unto Marco’s lap, massaging his shoulder while engaging in another kiss.

Marco informed his men that they would split the cash immediately after reaching his flat, and from there the remainder of the evening belonged to him and Sasha.


_____________

Marco’s apartment appeared to be a contrived semblance of a playboy’s digs. Shag carpeting over the floor, all the furniture a gaudy shade of red, and neon signs and strobe-light paintings over the walls. There was a small bar and day-bed, the lamp stands depicting scantily clad females if not outright naked,

“Get the boys some beers, honey, one for me too!” Marco loudly stated as he slapped Sheila’s rump.
“And in my bedroom are my cigars, get me one, you can’t miss them on the nightstand!”

Sheila felt more than obligated to obey but abnormally eager to make Marco happy.
Sheila even opened the beers for the guys before doling them out and lit Marco’s stogie.

Sheila retired to the sofa and watched as Marco divided the cash, some of it he put in a mason jar for the poor. This took a little while, Sheila finally retrieving a beer for herself, Marco calling out to her in stark amusement for his men, “Take it easy with the beer, Sasha! You won’t be able to wear sexy clothes if you get a beer belly!”

The guys all laughed, so did Marco. Sheila took the comment in a lackadaisical mode, releasing a shrill of a giggle while patting her stomach.

_____

The guys having vacated the apartment, Marco waved Sheila over to him.

There was a quick embrace, between kissing Marco exerted his opinion, “I’ve never been so horny around you.”

Their lips locking again, Marco steering Sheila backward into the bedroom, conversing as they undressed.

“We’ll do this again soon”, Marco conveyed, “You’ll make more cash too, I only paid you a hundred coz this was your first time…”

Sheila stood behind Marco completely naked, giving him a back rub, pushing her breasts into his back, “I really don’t know, baby. This was exciting and I liked the feeling I got being bad but I need to get back home, to my career, this isn’t the real me.”

Marco turned around, his hands situated over Sheila’s hips, gently pressing his body against her.
“What? You’re fucking kidding.”
“I don’t know what you mean?” Sheila said with a confused smile.
Marco moved his hands behind Sheila’s ass, cordially addressing her as he massaged her cheeky posterior.

“Who the fuck are you talking to? I know all about all the dirty deals you made in your office and country club bar rooms. Getting rich people off with a slap on the hand and getting rewarded for it. The cash you sent away, thousands of dollars for turning your head or playing ignorant. You’re as immoral as me, only I don’t have my name on a door.”

“No, it’s different”, Sheila opposed Marco.
Marco squeezed her ass, “What’s different? That the same laws that apply to poor people don’t apply to wealthy white folks. You’re full of shit, Sasha.”

“Marco”, Sheila softly uttered, “I know this turns you on, me acting like this, and this was some naughty adventure but I can’t stay here.”

Marco’s lips curving into a sardonic grin, adjusting his hands over Sheila’s shoulders, “Speak English for me.”
“English?” Sheila uttered, finally realizing the eloquence of her once splendidly intelligent voice sounded shockingly flat, her features contorting in distress, “Me talk English very, very good, Marco. Me normal language…”

Sheila’s eyes grew wide, “Marco, something wrong with my talking English…”

Marco began massaging Sheila’s shoulders, “Sure, you can go back, you can always clean up after them, do the laundry.”

Sheila tried concentrating, making another attempt which proved just as negative, “No, impossible, I be lawyer!” she said with fervor albeit her pronunciation sounding much more similar than not to a Mexican immigrant.

“Not anymore you’re not”, Marco smugly addressed Sheila, “I’d be surprised if you can literally remember anything about the law. Remember you’re a stupid girl, Sasha.”

“I no understand!” Sheila screeched in panic, “This was trick, stop drug smugglers, I pretend, me Sheila Marcus…”

“Last I heard Sheila Marcus had a nervous breakdown, she’s locked away in an insane asylum, so obviously you’re Sasha Martinez. No wealth, no career, no white privilege.”

Marco gently squeezed Sheila’s shoulders, “The same Sasha Martinez who just profited from a drug deal.”

Sheila cringed, reverting back to Spanish, she hysterically retorted, “What the fuck, why did you do this to me, I thought you cared!”

“I do care, now though I call the shots, you haven’t a shred of authority over me or anybody else”, Marco replied, “I prefer you like this.”

Marco delicately ran his fingertips over Sheila’s cheek, causing her to sigh, “I can’t be like this…”

“You need to relax, chica, what’s done is done…”

Marco kissed Sheila repeatedly, lowering his hands to her waist, pulling her into an embrace.
“You’re sexier than ever..” Marco uttered between kisses.

Sheila’s anger put on her hold as she couldn’t defy Marco or her own wanton desires, the kissing intensifying, their bodies grinding together, a bolt of energy motivating him to lift her up and carry her into bed.

Marco was stiff, fully aroused, he lay over the mattress, expecting Sheila to board him.
Sheila paused, inquiring about protection, Marco’s bad boy smirk taunting her.
Sheila pushed back her mane, heaving a jaded sigh, spreading out her thighs and obeying her lover without another question.

Sheila groaned and whimpered as she rode Marco, she didn’t quite comprehend why so felt so damn submissive to his wishes, but her needs outweighed her logic.

Marco smiled throughout the sexual experience, only uttering an occasional, “That’s a girl, you’re a better hoochie than you ever were a lawyer” And - “You’re heavy, heavier than I thought…”

None of Marco’s remarks deterred Sheila’s pleasure, reaching orgasm even before he shot his load into her. The mating resumed on and off throughout the night.

_____

Sheila opened her eyes to find herself cuddling up next to Marco.
She felt beaten, more than her life being tossed upside down, it had been reinvented.
No longer the independent, strong-willed, intelligent assistant district attorney but a nondescript Mexican girl. If she was to survive, she had better appeased Marco the best she could.
What other choice did she have?

Marco slowly regained his senses, cupping Sheila’s face; he favored her with a quick smooch.
She worriedly gazed at Marco, unsure of what he would say now that their relationship was in reverse and he had all the power.

Marco sensed this, and pushed off the covers and brought his body into a seated position.
Sheila crawled to his side, laying her arms over his shoulders, kissing his neck and nibbling on his ear.

“Don’t be lazy”, Marco deliberately challenged Sheila, “Make some coffee, then after getting dressed, pour me a cup and bring it here.”

Marco proudly grinned at Sheila’s compliance; the young woman managed herself off the bed, walking into the kitchen stark naked. No debate or questions, she did as she was told.
Sheila didn’t look half-bad Marco thought, although her well-sculptured curves and the overall lean condition her figure once exhibited were definitely softer with negligible bulges and a slight trace of fat. Sheila now resembled any anonymous 26-year old woman who didn’t bother working out and ate whatever she wanted.

By the time Marco got dressed Sheila returned to the bedroom, putting on the same clothes she wore the night before. Marco only had to give her a smile and she again silently obeyed, abandoning the room for a moment to retrieve him a cup of coffee.

Sheila handed him the cup, Marco rubbing the side of her face, “Very good, Sasha. Now get yourself a cup while I fire up the computer I want to show you something.”

A few minutes later Marco was seated at his computer, Sheila standing directly behind him, crouching down low enough to get a good view of the screen, her boobs skimming his shoulders.

“Remember what I told you last night, here’s the story in the L.A. Times”, Marco said, swerving his eyes where they met Sheila’s.

Marco could make out Sheila’s scarcely audible voice struggling with the print, and he charmingly belittled her, “its okay, Sasha. English is a complicated language and you’re not exactly too brainy. I’ll read it for you.”

Sheila felt compelled to say thank you.

Marco shared the article with Sheila which delivered the story about how the brilliant and promising assistant district attorney Sheila Marcus was discovered near her office speaking gibberish and looking disheveled. Frank Faylen made the identification and that she is now under psychiatric supervision at the Happy Dale mental health sanitarium.

“How this happen?” Sheila squeaked.

Marco cheerfully shared the details, “Easier than you think, Sasha. You were a major bitch to Frank too, and we made a private deal that would get you out of the way so he could get your job and fulfill his personnel aspirations, and then we could be together like it should be.”

Marco stood up, gliding his hands through Sheila’s dense mane, “I’m the boss, I have full control in our relationship, you’re my hoochie.”

Sheila nodded, Marco fleetingly kissing her.
“That woman, who she be?” Sheila inquired.

“Chicks on skid row are a dime a dozen, my boys picked her up based on your photograph. She’s a little older than you but the way I see it, we’ve done her a favor. I mean, she’ll live longer coz she’s off the streets, and she does own your wealth, although she’ll be locked away the remainder of her life.”

Marco gently took Sheila back into his bedroom and rummaging through his dresser, selected her for a gift.
“This is a nipple ring, take it over to the tattoo shop and have it done, get another tattoo while you’re at it. I want you to fit in, wash away any clue you’re respectable.”

Sheila shook her head.

“I have some errands, I’ll be back later”, Marco bluntly told Sheila, “In the meantime you got to know your place.”

Marco firmly gripped Sheila’s arm.
“I have a bucket in the closet, I want you to get down on your hands and knees and scrub my bathroom and kitchen floor!”

Sheila gaped at Marco as he continued, “Clean up around my place, and when I come back with my boys, you wait on them like it’s a privilege. Right?”

“Yes, Marco, I do it. I do it”, Sheila slightly trembled.

“I’ll bring you back some food; help yourself to a beer if you like…” Marco adjusted his attitude, becoming much more cordial but yet demeaning, “….not too many beers though, right chica. You get yourself a beer belly that’s too big and I’ll shop ya around Flores Street, maybe some obese derelict will take you off my hands.”

Sheila quickly embraced Marco, “No, Marco. Don’t talk such things, me no get fat..”

Marco pinched her squishy pouch, not to send her any real message but simply to taunt her.

“In my company, you speak Spanish unless I say otherwise”, Marco sternly told Sheila, subsequently kissing her.

The kissing subsided; Marco grabbed his duffle bag and promptly left his apartment.

__

Sheila went to work as if all her years of college were all for not. Scrubbing the floors on her hands and knees, cleaning up the house, even making Marco’s bed.

Marco was true to his word, bringing a modest meal home for Sheila and along with his boys a few of their hoochies. Tawdry looking, skinny Mexican females.
Sheila waited on all of them like they were royalty. Even going as far as painting the finger and toe nails of the female guests and massaging their feet. The females were sociable to a degree, budding friendships seemingly in development.

The guys hanging out in the kitchen, drinking beers, the women in the front room, tequila their choice in alcohol.

Sheila toiled until nearly midnight, making them all feel comfortable and later washing the dishes and glasses they used.

Marco never uttering even a thank you, but Sheila understood it was her place; it was the proper thing to do to keep her man happy.

The party over, Sheila volunteered giving Marco a massage which he didn’t refuse.
Finally Marco did show some appreciation, telling Sheila that next Friday night they were going out like a real couple. Their relationship would no longer be kept secret.

Another compliment after making love, Marco applauding Sheila’s prowess in the sack, noting that somehow being liberated from her Ivy League status brought out the real vixen in her.

Sheila tossed and turned that night, in contrast Marco contentedly snoring away.
The changes in her life were obviously torturous for Sheila to deal with; the only and incredibly peculiar emotion she felt was now being openly attached to Marco. A paradox due to despising what he had done to her but at the same time being thoroughly enthralled with the bad boy.
Sheila no longer had the smarts to analyze why she felt so submissive toward him or why she was impressed with his prominence within the neighborhood. She was lucky to be with such a cool guy.

Marco dropped Sheila off by her apartment early enough in afternoon to get ready for work.
She appreciated his thoughtfulness and the brief episode of kissing and fondling each others bodies in his van.

“Remember Friday we have a date, I expect you to have the nipple ring and tattoo, make me happy!”
Sheila gushed, fluttering her eyes, bubbly in demeanor, “Yes, sweetheart, whatever you want.”

Sheila strutted into her apartment like she was born and reared in the neighborhood, a little anxious about going to work, and getting the chance to sample all the Mexican cuisine Mrs. Lopez always had available for her.

____________
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Re: FRESA PERDICION BY MATT L. & HER REVENGE

Postby Junketh71 » Sat Jan 13, 2018 5:52 pm

This was seriously explosive. Thanks for updating.
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Re: FRESA PERDICION BY MATT L. & HER REVENGE

Postby dagolfer » Sat Jan 13, 2018 9:58 pm

Thanks Matt & Her Revenge, I'm really enjoying this story.
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Re: FRESA PERDICION BY MATT L. & HER REVENGE

Postby Matt L. » Sun Jan 14, 2018 2:26 pm

Hello Junketh71 & Dagolfer,

I'm very pleased you're enjoying our story, your kind remarks have quite an influence on my writing and the scope of the story.
Thank you.

Cheers, Matt
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Re: FRESA PERDICION BY MATT L. & HER REVENGE

Postby div » Mon Jan 15, 2018 2:48 am

Hello to you!

Nice going so far. I hope there is more to come.

I don't really get over that partially mind destructive effect of the teinted weed. One reason I already mentioned the other I kept to myself. How to describe such a mind. It is pretty challenging for an author I think to get it even half way right, that is, if there is such a thing as half way right. Conclusive in the context of the story line is probably more like it.

There are many examples over at 'the erotic mind control story archive' but most although amusing in a way are pretty useless. In general literature there are some mostly dealing with the aftermath or consequences of amnesia, mental illness or brain injury. A few examples come to my mind I wanted to read but never came to. I have got a number of strange memory imprints left from Doris Lessing's 'Briefing for a descent into hell' but taken from a review I read yesterday I probably never finished reading that one.

Thank you for putting me back to following traces long lost in the flow of time.

Kind regards!
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Re: FRESA PERDICION BY MATT L. & HER REVENGE

Postby brightsun21 » Tue Jan 16, 2018 4:14 pm

Great story
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