Mexican Horsewhipping


The already broiling heat of the midmorning summer sun beat down on the asphalt of a little used road in the back country of the Sonora desert in Mexico. The sun was huge and straight up in the sky and seemed to blot out the blue surrounding it. Heat waves shimmered up from the black ground as a van carrying three burly Mexican ranch hands and towing a horse trailer pulled up to a desolate spot in the desert. The driver, a tall, thick, burly ranchero with greasy black hair and a long drooping mustache, stepped from the cab and surveyed his surroundings. As he wiped his heavily scarred, acne pitted face and neck with a bandana, his eyes focused beyond the many giant cacti to a huge rock that resembled the back end of a hippopotamus. He walked over baked desert floor to the rock and ran his hand over the smooth back end and across the mesa-flat top of the rock and grinned a tobacco stained smile. He turned and called something back to his amigos, which made them laugh. As he walked back to the horse trailer he could hear a labored breathing which made him emit a disgusting chuckle. He stepped up onto the trailer hitch and looked down into one of the stalls and asked," Jew feeling good back there chico?"

A young man or boy's voice, breathless and distinctly American called out," Oh... Gawd... Yeah!"

He stepped down and suddenly the greasy ranchero's face became grimly serious as he fingered the horse whip on his belt, took it off with a flick of the wrist, cracked it at a cactus which took off a limb and replaced it in the harness in two seconds flat. He chuckled again and said back to the trailer, "Jew need to save da strength chico, jew are going to get beeeeg excersize with a beeeeg pinga!" His amigos laughed with him this time.

Just then a dusty but new black Mercedes limousine rolled up behind the trailer and stopped. An obscenely fat, older Mexican with greased back grey-black hair, thick framed black glasses, a white guayabera and black slacks tucked into cowboy boots, a large red nose and bulbous lips emerged from the salon. He looked to the ranchero who pointed to the rock and the fat man lumbered over to inspect it. He too ran his hand over it and when he was satisfied he smiled obscenely because he could also hear the panting coming from the trailer. He slowly licked his fat lips and nodded his head. The rancheros had been instructed and knew what to do. They moved to the back of the trailer and opened the doors. There were two stalls in the trailer, one containing a large black stallion, and in the other, a naked, heavily oiled, and sweating young man of 18 years. He had short, sandy hair, the chiseled face of an Anglo model, a smooth and muscular and almost hairless swimmer's body save for a thin horizontal band of short pubic hair above his thick, fully erect, 10-inch penis.

It was the boy's huge cock and sexual prowess that had gotten him here to the desert. Just days earlier the fat, rich Mexican had seen the boy in a pornographic movie while north of the border taking care of business interests. Mixing business with pleasure, he had indulged his whim of looking at young men