FRESA PERDICION BY MATT L. & HER REVENGE

[TheGreatestView]

Fantastic installment guys!

How much is Sheila weighing now?

[Matt L.]

Hello friend,

At this point Sheila is over 150-pounds but she'll continue to get heavier, you can count on that.

Thank you for reading the story and your question.

Cheers, Matt

[Junketh71]

Thank you for the new chapter. It was wonderful to read.

[dxm9999]

Good chapter, the fun continues! Thanks Matt!

[brightsun21]

Enjoying so far

[Matt L.]

Thank you everyone for the kind thoughts, the next episode will be posted over the weekend.

Cheers, Matt

[Matt L.]

Marco was leisurely sitting at the bar checking his messages, periodically bringing his vision to the new waitress working the tables.

Spunky and in a good humor, she teased and flirted with her customers, using her cleavage to her advantage which encouraged a surplus of tips.

Marco smugly smiled, Sheila had become the very product of his wishes; a ditzy waitress provocatively dressed.

Marco was interrupted by Jessie.

“Hey Marco, I don’t mean to be a pain in the ass but those diet pills aren’t working. Matter of fact I’ve put on four pounds.”

Marco sipped his beer before answering.
“They ain’t magic pills, you have to work out while taking them”, Marco replied, knowing full well that Jessie was on the lazy side.

“Ohhh, no wonder!” Jessie gazed at Marco straight on, then giggled, “Well I’ve been eating them with candy, can I get another supply?”

Marco momentarily zeroed his attention on Sheila who was chatting with a customer while sitting on his lap.

Marco spoke softly as he resumed his attention on Jessie.
“I’ll get ya some more just because I like you.”
“Thanks. Marco, you’re the best”, Jessie gushed.

Marco pushed aside his beer and inched closer to Jessie.
“Thing is, what you going to do for me?”

Jessie’s eyes grew wide, her cute little nose crinkling, “Whatever you want”, she uttered in a sultry whisper, erroneously thinking Marco was putting the moves on her.

“Sasha told me you and her are going to some party on 28th Street?” Marco inquired.

Jessie nodded, “Yeah but I can cancel.”

Marco wagged his head, “No, this is where I need a favor. Do it and I’ll get you the pills.”

Jessie looked at Marco with disenchanted eyes, “Sure, Marco, whatever you want. I only thought we’d get some alone time.”

Marco took Jessie by the hand, “Lose the weight and I swear we’ll rock the house like we used to do.”

“Promise?” Jessie tensely smiled.

Marco agreed with a nod.

“I’m taking you into my confidence, this is a secret but I can trust you, right?” Marco said with his bad boy grin. Jessie shook her head, Marco continued.

“I know you girls will drink and probably smoke up, Sasha can’t hold her liquor or weed. When she gets high, you sort of persuade her to hook up with somebody. Understand?”

Jessie’s pretty face took on a curious appearance, “No, I don’t understand. I thought you and Sasha were on terms, romantically involved.”

“The last hoochie that thought too much is now residing in Mexico, being too smart ain’t going to win no favors with me. Do you understand that?”

Jessie tilted her head, jarred at Marco’s hostile position.
“Yes, of course, Marco, I’ll do whatever you want.”

Marco’s mood flipped over to his pleasant side, “Sure, sure you will. You just make sure Sasha is playful and gets generous with some asshole.”

Jessie sighed, volunteering her loyalty with a cheesy smile, “I was on board with everything you said when we were a couple. I haven’t changed; I’ll still obey you no matter what.”

Marco gazed into Jessie’s eyes, causing her to purr.

Marco knew he had Jessie’s allegiance, and to show his appreciation this time around the diet pills would be legit.

“You lose the weight, Jessie”, Marco slickly guaranteed, “And we’ll get back to carousing together among other things. Get skinny again and we’ll make love like never before. In the meantime, you’re my inside ticket to everything Sasha.”

Jessie knew not to question Marco concerning Sheila but got the hint that he wasn’t all that fond of her anymore.

Marco released his grip from Jessie’s hand, “This is our secret, right?”

Jessie’s wide smile was answer enough.

Marco engaged in another sip of beer, “You have fun tonight, Jessie. I’ll drop off the pills in a couple days.”

Marco removed himself off the bar stool, giving Jessie a funky smile, he added, “What goes on between me and Sasha isn’t what it looks like.”

Jessie stepped back and watched as Marco said goodnight to Sheila.
Taking Sheila in her his arms, giving her a kiss, and telling her to have fun at the party.

___________


Jessie was familiar with the Spanish Assassins, a ragtag gang long affiliated with Marco’s gang through her half- brother who was currently receiving room and board in San Quentin.

The party was essentially a get together in a garage, Sheila and Jessie arriving just as a couple guys were about to make a beer run.

“You bitches just come too drink our beer or you gonna join in on the festivities?”

“Carlos invited me, so I brought a friend”, Jessie told the greasy looking gang member.

Carlos emerged from a small crowd, “its okay, Santos, Jessie is like a sister to me. A beautiful older sister.”

Carlos Ortiz was streetwise pink, fairly good looking face, muscular built, a few years younger than Jessie and Sheila.

Carlos’s eyes zeroed in on Sheila, “And who’s this sexy hoochie?”

Jessie motioned toward Sheila, “Sasha Martinez, we work at the bar together.”

Carlos swayed his body back and forth, “Ay, mamacita, we have got to know each other better!”

Carlos walked around Sheila, scoping out her body, “Fuck yeah, baby. But first we need to go on a beer run.”

Sheila’s stance automatically mimicked Carlos, “A beer run, can I go with?”

“It could be a hassle pretty chica, you stay here and be safe”, Carlos smirked.

Jessie knew Carlos was up to no good and thus promptly spoke up on Sheila’s behalf, “Sasha ain;t no girlie-girl, she runs with Marco’s gang, even been involved in drug deals.”

“No shit!” Carlos grinned with a chuckle, “Damn, so you’re a bad ass. Alright, very cool.”

Jessie noticed that Carlos appeared attracted to Sheila, and that Sheila’s body language hinted at a mutual enticement. This seemed constructive in initiating Marco’s scheme.

“I’ll see ya later, Sasha”, Jessie said walking over to the small group of people huddled in and around the garage. Sasha nodded, turning her attention on Carlos, “I can pitch in a few dollars…”

“Who said anything about buying the beer?” Carlos laughed.

__

On route to a moderately middle class mostly Caucasian neighborhood, Sheila was in the car along with Carlos and a few other dudes. Carlos handed Sheila a bandana and explained, “You gotta wear this over your face, you should know this shit. We’re going to this mini-mart, all you gots to do is hold open the door while we run and grab a few cases of beer. Any questions?”

Sheila slid up against Carlos, “As long as we’re not paying for the beer try to get the good stuff”, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Carlos humorously smirked, “That’s funny, mamacita, but it’s safer if we just grab whatever we get our hands on first.”

Sheila pitched her arm between the backseat and Carlos’s head, their eyes interlocking, “That does make sense, I guess beer is beer as long as it’s free.”

Jorge, who was driving the sedan called out, “We’re getting close, boss! Be there in 5 or 10 minutes.”

Carlos quickly addressed Jorge, “K, let me know when the place is in sight!” the resumed his attention on Sheila, “You ever get busted?”

Sheila smiled, “Shit, I’ve been in court lots of time, never been behind bars though, you?”

“I’m on parole!” Carlos giggled.


_____

It happened swiftly and without a hitch. Jorge stayed in the car, Sheila held the mini-mart’s door open as Carlos and another young man hurried inside the establishment and scored two cases of Old Style. They all jumped back into the dented Chevy and sped toward the Spanish slums.

__

The get-together was really a laid back affair, mainly drinking and causal socializing; Sheila was positively in her element. The vocabulary Sheila used was a mixture of Mexican / American slang, the motion of her form was spiced with spunky fervor.

Every can of beer Sheila downed was followed by a tequila chaser, the more inebriated she became the more liberated she felt. Sheila’s behavior was the archetype example of a women produced in the Spanish slums.

Sheila had taken a shine to Carlos, albeit she still wanted to remain loyal to Marco, the more beer and tequila she consumed, the more self-indulgent she felt concerning teasing and flaunting her female assets with the youthful criminal. Jessie noticed this as well, and she was well aware Carlos’s type, he was a real player and just as much an arrogant stud as Marco.

Carlos likewise found Sheila attractive. Most females in the slums around Sheila’s age were breeder stock, her wide padded hips and plump belly didn’t deter his moves on her at all.

Jessie paused for a moment while conversing with a couple hoochies to watch Sheila and Carlos walk away from the festivities into a dimly lighted alleyway.

__

Between a dilapidated building and a chain-linked fence, Carlos and Sheila hungrily swapped kisses.
Marco never entered Sheila’s mind as she frantically embraced Carlos, their lips intertwined, their hands rummaging over each other’s bodies.

__

A while later the pair rejoined the group, Sheila walking by Jessie, helping herself to another beer.

“Naughty girl”, Jessie smirked.

Sheila paused from guzzling the brew shrug her shoulders, furnishing Jessie with a frivolous expression.

“Not that I blame you”, Jessie whispered, “Carlos is hard to refuse; I won’t say a thing to Marco.”

Sheila’s defensive stance took Jessie by surprise, and she toughly grunted, “You better not.”

Jessie recoiled, a confused grimace corresponding with her thoughts, “Did she just threaten me?”

Needing to clear the air, Jessie smiled, “We’re best friends, why happens stays between us.”

Jessie’s comment about being best friends triggered Sheila’s feelings concerning Yolanda.
Yolanda was Sheila’s best friend but she had deserted her for Mexico without a clue or acknowledgement, Sheila’s intoxicated state stirred her anger.

“You wouldn’t run out on me without saying anything like that arrogant white wannabe!”

Jessie’s smile elongated into an astute grin, it was obvious that this was an opportunity to get closer to Sheila just to help Marco.

“I’m a better friend than Yolanda”, Jessie brashly stated, “I’m not fake.”

“Yes you are”, Sheila related between sips of beer, “But you know what? I’m going to lose weight and look hotter than her, then she’ll feel stupid when the guys prefer me.”

Jessie coaxed Sheila on but in reality the support was hollow, “You do that, you show Yolanda who’s the real woman!”

“Another thing”, Sheila fervidly screeched, “Yolanda acts like she runs the apartment, talks down to me too. She gets back to the US, I’m the boss, she got to go with what I say.”

“What about Marco, she got no respect for him”, Jessie deliberately added to rouse Sheila’s wrath.

Sheila pitched a hand over her belly, her eyes like hot coals, “Yolanda better learn to respect my man or she’s in for a whole lot of shit!”

Carlos and Jorge approached the friends.

“It’s late and we’re out of beer, we’re going in”, Carlos conveyed.

Sheila staggered into Carlos’s space, wrapping an arm around his neck, “Would you like some company?”

Carlos broadly smiled, his hand steadily over Sheila’s hip, “I so want to say yes but my woman wouldn’t like me sharing my bed with another chica.”

Sheila playfully smacked the side of Carlos’s face, “Bad boy!” she giggled.
“You shouldn’t be messing around with me, right?”

“I do like you, maybe some other time?” Carlos uttered softly.

Sheila snickered, “I’ll keep ya in mind if I ever have an itch.”

Sheila broke free from Carlos, staggering over to Jessie, she pointed over to the car, “We’re not wanted.”

Sheila slowly strolled to the car, Jessie ultimately thanking Carlos and Jorge for the alcohol and nice evening.

______

On the ride back to Sheila’s flat, she convinced Jessie to spend the night which she readily agreed due to the amount of alcohol she had consumed.

“Might well bed down in Yolanda’s room”, Sheila said on route to the kitchen immediately upon arriving home.

Jessie concurred, “Right, sounds good.”

It was after the females filled their bellies with a midnight snack and Sheila went to bed that Jessie finally called Marco to inform on her friend / rival.

“All I really know is that Sasha and Carlos spent some time alone, she didn’t talk much about it other than they made out.”

“Sure, it’s nice to know I have a willing confidant on my side”, Marco told Jessie, “Now that Yolanda is out of the picture for a while stay close to Sasha, keep me in the know.”

“I will, no problem, Marco”, Jessie quietly spoke, “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“That’s sweet, baby, very cool”, Marco replied.

Jessie cupped her belly, giving it a gentle squeeze, “You’ll set me up with more diet pills? I promise I’ll work out and shit.”

Marco chuckled, “You’re a persistent snot! Sure I will.”

Jessie paused, biting her lip as she nervously warbled, “If I lose enough weight and get sexy, maybe we’ll hangout more often?”

Marco knew Jessie’s concern was becoming reacquainted with him romantically, and naturally he took advantage of her desire.

“Baby, it isn’t out of the question as long as you don’t get too smart or arrogant”, Marco breezily replied, “Think you can keep tabs on Sasha?”

“Of course”, Jessie agreed.

“I know this doesn’t make a lot of sense but I need two things to happen”, Marco questioned Jessie; “You remember why I cut you loose?”

“I got fat”, Jessie awkwardly answered.

“You have a cautious memory, Jessica”, Marco coldly stated.

Jessie sighed, “And I was unfaithful…”

Marco snickered, “Yeah you were. What the hell, I tried to motivate you to look better but you were disobedient. Just because I refused to have sex with you until you resembled a normal woman, you had to look elsewhere for a lover.”

“I know, Marco, I’m sorry, it was difficult for me, I didn’t mean it…” Jessie’s words soaked with emotion.

“Forget about it”, Marco uttered, his intentions devious, “You’ll get skinny again and we’ll start over.”

Jessie smiled, “Really?”

Marco charmingly revealed what he expected from Jessie, “Now then, Jessie, you know these two things I need. Make sure Sasha neglects her figure and that she’s two-timing me.”

Jessie callously smirked, “Consider it done.”


___________

[Junketh71]

This was one interesting chapter. Thanks for uploading it.

[Matt L.]

Hello Junketh71, Thank you for reading the story, we're delighted you're enjoying it.

Cheers, Matt

[Matt L.]

“Oh stop your whimpering!” Marta said in a comical tone, “food be on the table in a minute.”

Yolanda was hunched over the table, her long tousled mane partially obscuring her face.

Yolanda suspended her whimpering for a split second, her brittle emotions far too severe to control.

It was an exhausting effort for Yolanda to fully comprehend, and the more she struggled to make some sense out of it the more complicated it was for her to understand the paradox of the situation - the more food she was fed, the more she wanted to eat!


Still handcuffed, wobbly seated at the table, an empty glass of the formula inches away from her.

Marta carried the steaming hot bowl of oatmeal over to Yolanda.

“We’re going to have to do something about that hair”, Marta said, her eyes sparkling, “And whew! Do you need a shower. Maybe when Rosaria returns from town we’ll take you outside to the stall.”

Marta placed the bowl on the table, gently pushing away Yolanda’s greasy locks.
Yolanda sniffled, her eyes welling up, Marta about to sit down, “I want something sweet…” Yolanda’s thoughts escaping from her mind.

Marta rolled her eyes and sighed, making a quick step back to the cupboard and removed a bag of sugar which she poured into the oatmeal.

Marta positioned herself on a chair next to Yolanda, whirling the spoon through the buttery and sugary bowl of oatmeal, subsequently steering a generous spoonful to her lips.

“Open wide!” Marta uttered inanely bubbly.

Yolanda slowly wagged her head sideways, puffing up her cheeks, she nasally muttered, “No more, I don’t want to get fat.”

Marta initially retorted cantankerously, “Hey! The sooner you get it into your head that you’re leaving here a jumbo size woman the better off you’ll be!”

However, sensing that Yolanda wasn’t in the best emotional condition decided to ease up on her.

“Now see what you done, you made me sidestep my civilized manners”, Marta smiled.
“Now eat up, darling, and tell me how you feel, okay?”

Yolanda dropped her head, she began to whine, “Who’d notice me if I got fat, I’d be a bottom feeder, heavy women in my neighborhood aren’t shown the same respect, I’ll be a nobody…”

Marta managed to slip the first spoonful between Yolanda’s lips, a hearty spoonful which she contentedly chewed.
“…..I won’t get the same attention; I’ll be invisible without my beauty….

Marta fed Yolanda the next spoonful, addressing her giddily, “Quite the reserve, you’ll stand out, nobody will miss seeing you…”

Yolanda sniffled, choking on her words, “By invisible I….I mean….”

Another spoonful, Marta coolly interrupted Yolanda, “I know what you meant; you’ll blend in with the crowd.”

“I agree, you‘re correct, you won‘t be dating material anymore…”, Marta then chuckled, “……but there‘s plenty of attractive women who can use a baby sitter on Friday or Saturday nights!”

Yolanda rolled her eyes, sighing before consuming the next spoonful.

Another spoonful, and another, Marta sweetly conveying, “You think too much, worrying about this is senseless. If you feel that strongly about your beauty, if you think getting fat is humiliating then you deserve to be humbled.”

Yolanda’s sneer was quickly interrupted by the force Marta put into the next spoonful she pushed into her mouth. Yolanda didn’t hesitate, chewing the oatmeal quickly, swallowing it just as the next spoonful reached her lips.

Minutes later. Yolanda had consumed almost the entire bowl, Marta suggested in a benevolent manner, “You haven’t left your room since you got here, except for meals. Promise me you’ll behave and I’ll let you watch some TV in the living room if you have another glass of our formula.”

Yolanda paused from chewing, “Half a glass…”

Marta tilted her head in thought while feeding Yolanda more oatmeal.
Finally she remarked, “Half a glass but a few corn bread biscuits.”

A silly smile formed over Yolanda’s face, “I used to eat corn bread all the time when I was a little girl.”

“Then we have a deal?” Marta questioned, feeding Yolanda the final spoonful.

Yolanda slurped away the contents on the spoon, nodding with an elated snort.

“You got American TV shows?” Yolanda curiously squinted.

“No!” Marta bluntly chastised Yolanda, “Stop acting like a spoiled America and embrace your culture!”

Yolanda wagged her head to the negative.

Marta stood up, her mood becoming absurdly cheerful, “Resist all you want, Yolanda. You’ll adjust accordingly whether you realize it or not.”

Marta helped Yolanda to her feet and slowly directed her to the front room.

Yolanda felt quite fatigued and bloated, furthermore her dizziness hadn’t fully subsided.

Finally Marta eased Yolanda into a large comfortable chair, a few holes in the cloth covering.

“We bought this chair especially for you at a garage sale”, Marta told Yolanda, her cheery mood still intact, “Nice and wide so it’ll accommodate your size in the future”, she added while handcuffing Yolanda’s wrist to the armrest.

Yolanda yield a perplexed look at Marta, the roominess of the chair had her imaging the worse possible outcome, how large were they planning to make her?

Marta set up a snack tray along side Yolanda, then turned on the TV, a vintage black & white film.

Marta wiggled her fingers, “Be right back, enjoy the movie!”

Yolanda resumed her sniffling, forced to watch a boring old movie, held captive by a pair of eccentric if not decadent women, and intentionally fattened.

Yolanda’s scowl corresponded to her whimpering, by some means an inexplicable thought crept into her head, and she blamed herself for being disloyal to Marco.

It was then Marta waltzed back into the front and set a silver platter on the snack tray.

Yolanda immediately halted her sniffling, her eyes growing wide, a trace of drool trailing from her lips, as she looked at the array of food.

Corn bread biscuits - chocolates - a small plate of beans - a big chunk of cheese.
A glass of buttermilk along side a half glass of the formula.

Marta smiled at the unmistakable sound of Yolanda’s tummy growling, the thought sank deep into her mind, “Somebody’s getting conditioned to be a big eater, no more short-shorts for you young miss!”

Yolanda could only use one hand, the other handcuffed to the armrest and without any eating utensils, she used her fingers to scoff up the food.

“The chocolates are imported from Sweden! Hope you like them!” Marta chuckled loudly as Yolanda crammed a few morsels into her mouth. The mechanics of her mind rid away any alarm of what power eating could do to her prized figure, filling her tummy was far more important!

“Well I have some chores that need to get done before Rosaria returns from town”, Marta sweetly hummed, “Watch the movie and relish your snack, I’ll be back to check on you in a short while.”

Yolanda shook her head, Marta adding in a semi-strict tone and stance, “And drink that formula!”


_____________


Rosaria arrived home a couple hours later with some groceries and a small package she picked up at the post office. Some news as well.

“I had a drink with Hector’s main man; he said Hector will approve of our monetary request if Yolanda’s corpulent face makes her completely unrecognizable and dumpy looking.”

Marta softly applauded, “Very nice, this is the easiest money we ever made.”

Rosaria stood with her hands to her hips, flexing her eyebrows, “We got to make good on this to get the extra cash. How do we go about making her face uniquely fat?”

Marta handed Rosaria a cup of tea, taking a seat with a cup for herself, “I was trying to connect the dots on that subject while feeding the chickens. Seems maybe if we add a good dose of the formula into her meals besides the twice a day glasses, Yolanda’s figure will mushroom out of control. She’ll get humongous, that extra thousand pesos will be in our pockets.”

“I’m with you”, Rosaria smiled between sips, “But the first sign of adverse side effects we have to stop with the formula.”

“Well, a little of course but not entirely”, Marta smirked.
Rosaria nodded, “Oh yes, we’ll just cut back some. Where’s our guest anyway?”

Marta proudly exclaimed, “In the front room sleeping off the bouquet of fattening food I promised her as a snack. I don’t know what that cuss Marco did to her brain but she didn’t protest at all. I almost think she gets a trill from eating.”

“That makes it all the easier now”, Rosaria chuckled, “She’ll have gained fifty pounds by the end of the month.”

Marta tilted her head, “Oh that’s a fanciful estimate but she’ll be thicker. And oh, she’s got an awful stench about her, think we can shower her this afternoon, trim her locks too?”

“Yes, she’s starting to have a smell familiar to our outhouse, by all means, we’ll wash her off”, Rosaria agreed. “We’ll do it after we finish our tea.”

“Hey!” Marta blurted, “What’s in the package?”

Rosaria stood up and walked over to the counter where she had placed the package, “I don’t know, it’s from Marco.”

Rosaria tore into the paper package, laughing out loud as she displayed Marta a jumbo size nightdress with the slogan written in Spanish in big black lettering - I’M A BIG GIRL!”

“Yolanda’s going to have to grow into that!” Marta joined in on the laughter, “That thing’s huge!”

“Yes she will!” Rosaria playfully announced as she reclaimed her seat.


__


In Yolanda’s slumber her dreams took her to simpler times albeit squashed within current events.

She was in Marco’s bedroom, her svelte form clad only in her skivvies, she held out her hand which contained a Zippo lighter and lit Marco’s cigar.

“How stupid was I”, Yolanda began rattling off, her voice crisp with the tone of a street wise girl from the Spanish slums.

“Thinking college could improve my life, making me into somebody I’m not….”

Yolanda moved in closer to Marco, soothingly rubbing his shoulder with one hand, the other hand over his waist, “This is where I belong, I belong with you, you’re my man and I’m your woman. This is how it should be, I realize it now.”

Yolanda intensely kissed Marco; she could feel his fingers cuddling her shapely pint size derriere.
“Oh, and what shall we do about Sasha, your roommate?” Marco questioned, “She’s a hot lover, so spicy and enticing.”

“She’s a pest”, Yolanda grumbled, “You had your revenge, now complete it so we can be together, have her deported, she’s now an illegal, Hector can find her work scrubbing toilets at his…”

_

The dream was abruptly halted by Marta shaking her into consciousness and the strong jiggling the key to remove the handcuff from the armrest.

Marta took a step back, demanding Yolanda to stand up like a seasoned teacher would tell a student.

Yolanda tensely gazed at Marta, slowly drifting off the chair, her feet finally coming in contact with the floor.

“Okay, turn around”, Marta said in the same hard tone.

Yolanda did as she was told but whined, “Do you really have to handcuff me?”

“Until you can be trusted, yes!” Marta uttered, snapping the handcuffs unto Yolanda’s wrist, quickly turning her around.

“We’re going to give you a nice shower and then cut your hair…”

Yolanda interrupted Marta, there was still the unmistakable hint of a whine within her voice, “Can you please find me something to wear…” her features souring, “….this bikini is getting tight.”

Marta smiled, “I guess, it was certainly inevitable, right?”

Yolanda flashed Marta a disdainful look, “You’re trying to get to me again.”

Marta grabbed Yolanda’s upper arm, leading her into the kitchen.

“Why would I taunt you, chica, by now you’re aware your future in swimwear will consist of one piece suits made from stretchy material.”

Yolanda grumbled in English beneath her breath, “These women are insane; I have to get out of here…”

Marta tightly squeezed Yolanda’s upper arm, “What’s that, chica? We only speak Spanish in this house, remember that!”

Rosaria smiled at Yolanda as she was brought into the kitchen, “How’s our girl?”

Yolanda looked downward, “Fine, I guess”, she then brought her face upward, her voice pathetic and weak, “No, I’m not fine, none of this is fine.”

Rosaria giggled, “You’ll feel better after having a shower and more food stuffed into that belly.”

Yolanda could literally feel the coldness of Rosaria’s eyes as the woman scanned her figure, “You look like you’re put on a few pounds there.”

Yolanda sniffled, Marta unfastening the bikini strings, “What the hell are you doing?” she whimpered.

“You can’t very well shower in your bikini!” Marta chortled, Rosaria likewise laughing.

Marta bent down and began tugging the bikini bottom downward, “We have a set of clothes for you, Hector sent them before you arrived.”

Yolanda uncomfortably stood, completely naked to the chorus of chuckles.

“Don’t be modest, we’re all females here. Nobody will see ya outside, nobody around here for a mile or two!” Rosaria humorously stated.

Marta couldn’t resist commenting as well, “Oh but by chance some man might see you outside what’s the harm? Be amused at the moment because in 4 or 5 months from now you won’t have a figure to show off!”

The dream Yolanda had concerning Marco resurfaced in her mind; the sole prospect of being released becoming clear. She would have to concede to Marco and his hood lifestyle, forever and willingly canceling the sought after improvements she had hoped to achieve.

Marta and Rosaria marched Yolanda to the shower stall which was situated at the back of their cottage. Yolanda managed to recover some of her spunk, swinging her hips as she strolled with the women, her head up, a crisp timbre to her voice.

“No, get a message to Marco; tell him I’ve come to my senses. I’ll be his hoochie again, his woman!”

Both women gazed at Yolanda in shock at first as Yolanda continued, “I want nothing to do with the white peoples world, I belong with my own people and my heritage!”

The shock that the women experience turned to doubt, scoffing at Yolanda upon reaching the rickety wooden shower stall.

“Nice try!” Marta stridently scolded Yolanda, “Think what you want, you’ll never be what Marco desires ever again!”

Rosaria concurred, her eyes razor sharp, “You’re stupid for a college girl, you’ll return to Los Angeles nothing more than a fat washer-woman at best, struggling for whatever scraps fine-looking women take for granted, rejected by your peers and having a dismal attitude toward what you once cherished.”

Rosaria spun Yolanda around, roughly unlocking the handcuffs, “If you prove to be civil maybe we’ll put away the handcuffs.”

Yolanda turned around, pleading with the women, “I’m not kidding, Rosaria, Marta, I realize I was out of line, you gotta let Marco know I’m terribly sorry, I’ll obey his rules…”

“Marco has no further use of you now or ever again”, Rosaria flatly announced, “If you’re lucky he may say hello to you when you get back, you’re going to engage socially with downtrodden peasants and their kin.”

Yolanda sighed, “Just tell him. Okay, please?”

Marta pointed to the shower stall, “Take your shower so we can trim your hair and then get you fed.”

Yolanda entered the shower, the water lukewarm; she simply stood arms folded over her lovely breasts as the steady stream gushed over her body.

“There’s soap on the floor, use it!” Rosaria shouted out, “No shampoo through, but the soap is good enough to use in your hair.”

Yolanda didn’t flinch a muscle, there she stood, an angry scowl over her beautiful face.

“You want to wash her or should I?” Marta droned.

“Scrub her really good”, Rosaria replied, and thus Marta entered the shower, “I hate getting wet!”

“Take off your clothes!” Rosaria laughed.

“You’re going to rue this day, brat!” Marta chided Yolanda as she reached down for the soap, “I’ll get drenched!”

Yolanda moved away from Marta into the corner of the stall, Marta sneering, “I have a good mind to start force feeding you again!”

Yolanda knocked the soap out of Marta’s hand, “No, back off! Leave me be!”

Marta’s attempt at grabbing Yolanda by her hair was stopped by Yolanda shoving her away.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with!” Marta yelled, Yolanda falling to her knees, loudly whimpering, “No…stop this! I want to go back to America; I need to be with Marco!”

Marta made a quick dash to Yolanda, trying to pull her under the faucet but Yolanda swung her arms in resistance, almost making contact with the older woman.

Rosaria joined in on the mix, Yolanda again swung her arms but Rosaria reached out and snared her leg, pulling Yolanda out of the shower as she kicked and screamed.

It took a few minutes but the older females had secured Yolanda and dragged her into the barn.
Yolanda continued fighting, screaming profanities as her ankle was cuffed to an iron beam deep within the cavity of the shabby barn.

“Alright!” Rosaria furiously uttered, “If you’re going to act like an animal, you’ll be treated like one!”
“Until you act civil this is where you’ll stay!” Marta added just as miffed, “And since cows wear no clothes, you’ll be naked!”

Yolanda began to sob, begging the women to change their minds, apologizing several times.

Marta swung her face at Rosaria, speaking loudly to further humiliate Yolanda, “I hate the ruckus cattle sometimes make, they can be so noisy!”

Roraria started toward the barn door, “You’re telling me! This cow needs lots of attention but who in their right mind has a conversation with livestock!”

“Maybe we ought to find a bull to quiet her down some”, Marta chimed as she joined Rosaria out of the barn.

Yolanda’s jaw dropped, “I ain’t no cattle!”

Pushing away as much of the gravel as possible, Yolanda was able to grab some hay in which to make the hardness of the ground comfortable enough for her to bed down. Soon enough, emotional exhaustion put her into a slumber.

__

Yolanda per chance resumed the dream about Marco, although the location was at their gang club house rather than his bedroom.

Yolanda was garbed in a revealing outfit that deliciously showed off her figure; Marco was clad all in black, a T-shirt and slacks.

Yolanda spoke romantically to Marco, he acknowledged her with a delicate kiss.

“You see, there was no real reason to send me to Mexico”, Yolanda said like a gawky teenager charmed by her first beau.

Marco kissed Yolanda again, this time much more zealously.
“No more school for you then?” Marco questioned once the kiss subsided, “You’ll quit being a bookkeeper, take a menial laborer gig at the factory?”


Yolanda slithered her fingertips against Marco’s rugged face, softly purring, “Whatever it takes to be with you…..”

_

Yolanda returned to her reality, situated on the ground in the dilapidated barn.

Yolanda’s eyes scarcely opened, the lingering remnants of the dream coincided with a male form standing in the shadows.

“Marco?” Yolanda’s voice faintly perceptible.

“No, I’m Luis….”

The women had endowed Yolanda with her bull.

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