This is a story. It never happened and never will. The General Disclaimer is incorporated herein by reference.

BR&T date: summer 1995

Outside the ancient Incan (actually Moche) temple Agaddabiggabona, hours by bus into the mountains from the coast of Peru, a tourist paced indecisively, pondering what to do next. Jim Carson had just completed a full tour of the temple, shown one fascinating exhibit after another by the tour guides. His own daughter, Sara Jessica Carson, having been accidentally forgotten and left there two weeks earlier, had been fully on display at the final 'exhibit' he'd seen (and experienced himself). She obviously hadn't known him in his strange touristy outfit and newly-grown beard. 'I might never get a chance like that again,' he mused, 'but hot damn that was fun!! The best thing about it is, it was so much fun for so many others, too! I couldn't have possibly planned two weeks like she's just had if I had tried!'

His smile broadened. 'And that was only the fun of spanking her!' Ice cream, Jim figured, was great on its own, but much better with toppings. The toppings he knew his nine-year-old daughter had served to all comers (hah!) excited him. 'Unless I miss my guess, she's also been fucked by over five hundred guys while she's been here, at least a thousand times between them. So far, anyway! And ten thousand or more guys have pictures of her getting it, fucked or spanked or both at once, and she knows it!'

He waved at a man leaving the temple. Jim remembered seeing him in the room where four shrieking naked girls had been on tip-toe, straddling four rough stone spindles out of twelve spindles of different heights. Strong leather straps bound their wrists high behind their backs. The spindles were wide enough at the base that the girls had to hold their legs spread to get their toes on level ground for any support other than the spindles. Aside from the cords on their wrists, and of course the spindles, the wailing girls had been unrestrained. Every guy in the room had been provided with his choice of leather strap to use, from a wide selection. Jim had chosen a narrow strap braided with small ruby-colored stones (possibly actual rubies!). The terrified girls desperately tried to avoid any man poised to deliver a quick hard snap on a soft pretty target. Unable to block the straps from striking them, or crouch down even slightly, let alone get off the spindles and run away, the girls had no cover and only one way to dodge. Even then, the tops of the spindles were so rough and so thick inside them that the girls would only do that out of sheer desperation, often preferring to stand and endure as many painful swats as they could before turning again, trying to get swatted somewhere else instead, or by someone else instead.

His Sara hadn't been there, at least not while he was there, so Jim had chosen the closest match to her, an enticing girl with long beautiful brown hair, and shared her with four other men, guaranteeing she couldn't turn away from all of them. They chased her relentlessly, forcing her to keep turning by holding all their straps in striking position and using them every time the sexy little playtoy paused for breath, which happened more and more often as they played with her. Their aim improved until her titties weren't safe even while she was turning.

How many times had Sara been in that room, her father wondered, screaming as she spun around and around in desperation, atop the stone spindle they'd matched her with? How many men had played with her, and what had they done to her? How long had they kept at it, and how much had they enjoyed it?

He wondered where they'd taken her afterwards. Maybe directly to the leatherworkers fair, to be stretched and spanked between the stone columns? Or had they decided to give an exhausted naked girl a chance to rest? Had she been taken and spread out wide on a stone slab, positioned to cover the row of sharp points in the center, held down by sharp heavy rocks on her wrists and ankles, while an unending stream of icy water kept the slab wet and an unending stream of men and boys passed by to admire every part of her from every direction, until she begged to be taken and used somewhere else?

Jim watched a bus arrive and unload a hundred men, boys, and girls. A few women were deftly intercepted and immediately sent off to the Hot Mud Beauty Baths, thinking it was their idea. The guides sorted everyone else into tour groups of one girl and a dozen guys, if possible, separating out certain girls.

Once everyone else had entered the temple on a tour, a guide escorted six remaining girls into the temple via the staff entrance. Four had a look of utter despair, sobbing as they meekly followed the guide. The other two, very very beautiful girls with very pale complexions and wavy reddish-brown hair, wearing shiny white dress shoes, lacy white ankle socks, and matching ankle-length white dresses covered in small lavender flowers, were probably sisters, Jim guessed. He put their ages at around five or six years old, seven at the most. Compared to the other four, they only looked somewhat confused, not even worried. 'They're probably both still virgins,' he thought, 'but that won't last very long!' He bet they had no idea why the tour guide had pulled up and tied a loop of leather around their elbows behind their backs (just theirs, not the rest), or where he was taking them, or what the other four girls were crying about already. He bet they had no idea what was going to happen to their pretty dresses and shoes, then their panties and socks, and then them. Just as the door was closing, Jim heard two high-pitched shrieks of shock and terror. "I win!" he laughed aloud. "And you two lose!"

The bus sat there, awaiting passengers. Several men and an equal number of girls boarded together. Jim had to decide soon. He could get his wife and Sara, and Tina and her mother, and they could all take the bus back to the coast like others were doing. He shook his head. 'I might never get a chance like this again,' he repeated his earlier thought. 'Only here, and only by staying. This could never happen at home.'

The younger of the two sisters, her fate sealed the moment she let the guide tie the leather around her elbows, had looked simply delicious. He imagined the cute little girl spread out naked on the icy wet slab, sobbing until her teeth chattered, her uncontrollable shivering making all the sharp rocks hurt her far worse. He imagined her begging them to take her away to the leatherworkers fair and rape her with a hundred men watching. Then he imagined the sweetie naked and tied, shrieking, getting raped, probably for the very first time, with a hundred men watching, himself among them. Then he imagined the delicious little sweetie getting raped by a hundred men at the fair, himself among them. Going first!? Even though those events were unlikely, he knew she would provide a lot of fun for a lot of guys, whatever they did to her. He really didn't want to miss it, whatever it would be.

He also wanted another chance to spank Sara for the fun of guys watching her and hearing her shriek and sob with every swat he gave her. A few whispered words had so amused the tour guide that Jim had been allowed to swing the thick stone-studded leather strap as many more times as he wished, until he finally yielded the strap to let other eager men take their turns. That had been so incredibly fun the first time, he longed to repeat it. But he knew nothing like that could ever happen at home.

He also didn't want to take her away and spoil the fun that so many guys could have with her, whether they wanted to spank her or fuck her or both or something else. If he could leave her there just two more weeks, then at least five hundred more guys would get to fuck her, a thousand more times guys would get to watch and take pictures as she got fucked, and no way to guess how many guys would get the thrill of spanking her themselves or watching her get spanked by other guys. Himself among them??

He thought hard, but couldn't come up with any excuse to leave her there for another two weeks. Pretending to forget her again wouldn't work. He also saw no way to send his wife home while he stayed there with Sara, at least not without Sara finding out sooner or later. All he could come up with was leaving her there for the rest of the afternoon, and having the guides find her for him at the last minute. 'That ought to let a few dozen more guys fuck her, at least,' he reasoned, 'or a few hundred spank her, depending on where they take her. Better than nothing. That will have to do, I guess.'

But he had to keep her from realising he'd been there and seen her there. It would be a dead giveaway if she ever saw him in any of those clothes later, he knew. He'd have to get rid of everything. That meant going back to the hotel for a change of clothes, the fastest possible way, then making sure she didn't see him inside the temple again.

He suddenly stopped pacing and turned toward the temple. 'Will they move her to the urn?' he wondered. 'Could they - oh man, would they!? - put her there, draped face-up across a huge clay urn, ankles tied like that, with a throng of guys eager for a turn at her?' The thought left him breathless with hope and anticipation. But no! Would he miss it all while he was away!? He almost ran back into the temple to see if they already had. Getting his control back, he sighed and stuck to the plan. The sooner he got back, the sooner he would know if she'd been taken to the urn, and if she had, the sooner he'd see her there.

He picked up the phone at the Lost Parents station and dialed the number for the extension at the mud baths. He had the attendant find his wife and call her to the phone.

"Dear? How's the mud bath?" he asked, when his wife came on the line. "That's nice. I'm glad they have telephones there. I have to go back to the hotel and change. Some clumsy person spilled Incan dye on my shirt and shorts, and I don't want Sara to see me like this, so I think I'll change into that plain business suit I brought and never wore. Oh, I might as well throw these away. The hat, too, since I would never wear it again anyway."

He almost laughed. "No, I haven't seen Sara walking around yet. Who? Oh, right. Don't worry about Tina. The tour guides took a special interest in her. They're making sure she gets everything the temple can give her, I'm sure. I'll find her when I get back. No, I'm taking a taxi, not the bus, so I'll be back in a couple hours. Yes, I do think it's that important. Enjoy the mud."

Back at the hotel, after shaving, he somehow dropped and broke the camera with all the pictures of him in the crazy shirt, hat, and sunglasses.

On his return to the temple, he stopped at the gift shop and asked about buying a replacement camera. They gave it to him for free with only one condition, which he was very happy to comply with. He even got to choose the exhibit and the girl, then they set it up for him. He also picked out a few other items from the shelves, which they gave him free, under a similar agreement.

'If this turns out to be a dream after all, I'm going to be very annoyed!' he thought, while vigorously fucking a sobbing girl who was tied on top of a large clay pot, her head hanging down so she couldn't see him, only feel him repeatedly thrusting deep into her. A hundred other guys watched and cheered, no other cameras allowed for the moment. When he finished, he stood back with his new video camera and recorded every shriek and wail, all the applause and laughter after a direct hit, as other guys used narrow braided leather whips with small sharp stones added to enhance their effect. And everyone had a great time... except the girl, of course.

Tina's day was hardly unique. In fact, her day was very much like the day of any of the other girls she'd seen or heard that day. Six-year-old Tina Lilianna Jones innocently and trustingly entered the temple in the company of Jim Carson, a man she'd only just met that morning on the bus trip to the temple. Once inside, she'd been tied, stripped naked, and enthusiastically raped by a dozen men and boys, including him, in just the first exhibit on the temple tour.

Tina spent the rest of the day naked and tied at that exhibit and many other places around the temple, getting spanked and raped repeatedly by guys of all ages, types, and nationalities. All of the temple tour guides (and they get paid for this, besides??) demonstrated to the tourists how men of ancient times made use of little girls of ancient times, using Tina's little body as the demonstration model at each different exhibit on the tour. Tina had been used at every temple exhibit they had, some of them more than once. (Half the fun was Tina not knowing what was about to happen to her, but half the fun was from her wild frantic shrieks when she knew exactly what was about to happen to her again.)

The innocent little girl had also been used by every tourist at the temple that day, one way or another. Everyone taking a turn with Tina did whatever the tour guides demonstrated. Many of them showed far more enthusiasm and energy than their tour guide had, perhaps hoping to be hired themselves, perhaps only out of sheer delight at having such a pretty little girl, or such a terrified little girl, to fuck as hard as they wanted, or spank as hard as they wanted, as she shrieked and wailed, or squirmed and struggled, or sobbed and bawled, at every temple exhibit she was taken to. Or taken at.

Only when sunset brought the day's activities to an end did the guides 'calm her down' and give her an 'authentic' Incan little girl's costume to keep, consisting of a flap of leather hanging from a leather cord tied low around her waist. It only covered her front and a little of her sides, leaving her cute little bare bottom showing. A narrow flap hung loosely from another leather cord tied around her chest, and didn't cover her titties unless she was very careful, which she wasn't, in her muddled state of mind. Only the tight cords at the top held either of the flaps up, and nothing held either of them down.

Mr. Carson, who had volunteered to take her on the temple tour as a favor to her mother, took Tina from the tour guide, who leaned forward and whispered "Bring her back any time! Well, within three years anyway." They exchanged handshakes, then winks, then Jim took Tina's hand and led her away without explaining that Tina wasn't 'his' to bring back. He brought her to the Lost Parents area, collected his 'calmed' daughter, Sara, from another tour guide who shook hands and winked, and led both girls to the departure area.

He glanced down at his daughter and smiled, certainly more aware of Sara's unusual attire than she was. He knew the men gathering behind the two girls liked the view. He grinned at appreciative comments he overheard. Yes, his nine-year-old daughter still had a nice ass, as everyone behind them could see, and some of them weren't shy about saying so. He thought he heard a few saying what they would do with it, or possibly had done. They'd had two weeks to do it in, after all, he thought. He knew a lot of men had surely made good use of her during that time, not just the ones he'd seen in person that day. He saw Sara twitch and squirm. Maybe her still-nice ass still hurt from the leatherworker's fair. Maybe her pussy made her squirm. Or maybe a little of both, he chuckled to himself, grinning wider.

An old dilapidated schoolbus arrived, belching oil smoke, probably sold off to a junkyard twenty years earlier and thousands of miles away, repainted, and driven south. It held fifty passengers on a good day, but this was not a good day. Several men quickly boarded, each with a girl in tow, rapidly moving to the end of the bus as a group. The last one to board looked right at Jim and waved emphatically, urging him to hurry up and get on. 'Hmm,' Jim thought, looking down at Sara, then at Tina. He took a step toward the bus, pulling both girls with him by their hands.

"There they are," Lady Carson said, nudging the arm of the woman who had spent the day in the Hot Mud Beauty Baths with her. "Jim! This way! Here we are!! Have you got Tina?" she shouted to her husband, waving her arm to get his attention. "Oh my gosh," she mumbled, when he stopped and Sara caught up to him. "What on earth is she wearing?" She saw the other girl wearing the same. Her husband obviously must know what the girls wore, having brought them out of the temple with him, and must have already decided to allow it. It wasn't her habit to argue her husband's decisions, so she resolved to say nothing.

"Oh my gosh," Ida Jones murmured in surprise at the costume Tina wore. As soon as she saw that the other girl wore the same, yet her mother made not even the slightest sign of surprise, Tina's mother decided she wouldn't say anything about it either. She didn't want to offend people she assumed were world travelers, and she didn't want to admit to being a hick from the hills if she could pretend otherwise. 'Lady Carson must have expected the girls to return to us barely dressed. Oh my word! They're going to get on the bus that way!' Ida thought, but suppressed her shock. "The girls have both gone native," she said calmly, trying to appear as unsurprised as the other woman.

'She must have known they'd be wearing that,' Lady Carson thought, observing Ida's composure and trying to match it. 'Maybe she read about it in part of the brochure I didn't see, or something.' Since the other woman saw nothing unusual, Lady wouldn't say anything either.

Ridiculously, the waiting crowd rushed the bus, trying to cut ten seconds off the three-hour trip back to the port city on the coast, and never mind how many would get trampled to death first. Jim held back from the crush with the girls beside him. The two women rushed forward with the crowd and boarded. Then he realised some other man would sit on his wife's lap, or vice versa. He ran to the bus, pulling Sara and Tina along. He found Lady and Ida in the front seats but on opposite sides of the bus. Ida had taken another woman on her lap, apparently so concerned with herself that she'd forgotten about Tina. Two men sat beside her, in one place on the seat.

His wife was seated beside two more men, but her own lap remained free. He handed Sara off to her and looked around for a place to sit. Then he remembered the guy who had waved to him. "I'll find a seat for Tina and myself somewhere!" Jim shouted to Lady through the clamor, then he repeated it to Tina's mother, pointing toward the back of the bus. He led Tina down the aisle, turning down numerous eager men offering the little 'Incan' girl a lap to sit on. He wanted to find the man who had waved to him. He had a hunch.

The hunch took him to the very end of the bus.

In the last four seats, he found seven men, two in each of three seats, and one in a seat alone anxiously watching the aisle. Each man had a girl on his lap, sullen and subdued, and each girl wore 'authentic Incan girls clothing' just like Tina's.

The anxious man brightened on seeing Jim and Tina. "About time!" he greeted him. "I was beginning to think you didn't know the drill. You want wall or aisle?"

Jim pretended he understood, and waved the man to slide over for him. He sat and pulled Tina onto his lap. "I'm-" he began to introduce himself, until the alarmed expression on the other man's face stopped him. "This is Tina. She's six," he finished instead.

"Samantha, she's three," the other man replied, "but well over three hundred by now, especially after today. Second time she's been here. Did you get a chance?"

Jim had to rely on hunches again. He considered the frail three-year-old on the other man's lap. He remembered a girl Samantha's size and build at the leatherworkers fair where he'd found Sara back. He doubted he'd get as good a look at Samantha's relevant features on the crowded bus as he had at the fair, let alone from the same angle, so he had to guess. "I think I saw her at the leather festival. Over the urn, wasn't she?"

She could be the same one, he thought, though he'd seen the girl at the fair with her face upside-down on one side of a clay urn, wrists tied to handles of other urns. She'd been bawling from the terrible position, bent backward over the urn, her ankles on the other side tied to more urn handles to keep her legs spread apart. Naked, of course. Men stood in line to test the effects of the products of ancient leatherworkers on a modern girl, thereby proving that the combination of men, leather whips, and little girls hadn't changed in thousands of years.

"I got in a few good ones, but the line was rather long for her, so they didn't give any of us enough time," Jim told his seatmate, hoping his guess was right.

"Wasn't what I was referring to, but yes, she was over the urn part of the day, too." The man grinned proudly, "And yes, her lines are always long. That's why you and I take the bus, am I right?"

Having taken on a hundred passengers, the bus in question growled, groaned, lurched, and began to roll at last. As if that had been a cue, Samantha's leather top dropped to her lap, untied in the back, exposing her bare chest completely. The man beside Jim pulled hard on Samantha's elbows and twisted her arms up behind her back, then picked up the leather top and began tying the cord around her wrists. Samantha whimpered and squirmed, on the verge of crying, but didn't say a word of protest.

"Better get busy," the man under Samantha said, as he yanked the cords on her wrists upward, causing a loud squeal. The noise from the bus and the hundred other passengers kept anyone from noticing except Jim.

Jim glanced to the right and saw that the two men in the other seat had also stripped their girls of the leather tops. One had tied his girl's elbows together behind her head, with her arms raised high. The other had tied the leather cord around her neck like a collar, and tied her wrists to the back of her neck. One girl looked to be six years old, the other probably five. He remembered seeing the two gorgeous golden-haired girls at the temple, tied back to back, spread wide, at one of several mini-exhibits that allowed tourists to use authentic obscenely-carved wooden stakes the way they were used in ancient times.

On the bus, just as they had in the temple, both girls looked terrified. And hot-damn sexy, sitting on a man's lap with nothing but a leather cord around her waist and a loose flap of leather in front, lips curled and tears leaving moist tracks on her cheeks, shoulders trembling as she sobbed.

A second later, he corrected himself: the far one didn't have anything around her waist, not even the leather skirt, and for that matter, the girl with her arms over her head had no skirt anymore, either. Someone had removed it while Jim was admiring the other girl.

Jim took the hint and got to work, glancing left and right for more clues. While he'd been looking away, his seatmate had turned Samantha to face him on his lap, so he finished tying Tina's elbows together behind her back and turned her around likewise. Her bare legs felt good under his hands. He untied her skirt and pulled it off, unsure what to do with it until he saw the other man shoving a roll of leather into Samantha's mouth and tying it in place with the long leather cord attached to it. 'Those ancient Incans thought of everything,' he smiled, as he gagged the struggling little girl on his lap. By the time he heard Samantha's anguished squeal and whimper, he had Tina ready, and forced her down onto his cock only a second later.

This return trip, with Tina on his lap again, would be so much better than listening to two women chattering for three hours. He pulled Tina closer and pushed her down harder, deeper. Her desperate squirming felt so good.

"When I finish and you finish, I'll trade you," Jim said to the man beside him, after several minutes.

"Trade?" the other man asked. "Of course. That's how it's done. Oh, this must be your first time. Don't get in a hurry. You'll get her when it's time. You'll see." Samantha whined. He laughed.

Several minutes later, a man in the seat behind tapped them on the shoulder. "Switch," he said, then leaned to his right and told the men there, who passed the message on to the men in front of them.

"Here's Samantha. Let me have Tina," Jim's seatmate said, pushing Samantha away and eagerly lifting the crying naked girl from Jim's lap. She wailed immediately as he pushed her down on his own lap and began bouncing her up and down. "Go ahead and take her!" he urged.

Jim looked to his right. Two helpless naked golden-haired beauties sobbed as the men in their seat shifted them across between them. One girl looked up at Jim for a moment, tears running down her cheeks, then she turned to face the man now under her. Her head tossed back and shook as her body slammed down, pulled by two strong arms. Her knee folded tightly against the seat until her leg straightened out into the aisle, kicking wildly.

Jim picked up the lightweight three-year-old beside him, pulled her close, and took her in every way he wanted. He didn't say so, but he half-wished he had the little blond fucktoy across from him instead.

After twenty minutes, the timer tapped their shoulders. They passed Tina and Samantha to their right and accepted two naked beauties, both of them gagged, tied, and crying, passed forward from the left rear seat in exchange for two gagged, tied, and crying blond girls from the right front.

Twenty minutes later, they switched, and twenty minutes later, they passed the two bawling girls to the right, having never found out their names, and replaced them with a pale Scandinavian four-year-old and an older girl with dark chocolate skin. Both girls knew what they were there for. They needed no gags, and just softly cried and whimpered as the men enjoyed them. Nor did they really need their tight wrist bindings behind their backs, not that Jim or his seatmate had any inclination to loosen them. The two girls spent half the time on their knees, bent forward, making their lack of gags much more useful. Both girls knew what they were good for, one way or the other.

After forty minutes with those, Jim got handed two more girls, the two lovely blonds he'd admired at the start. He took the one with her elbows tied, wanting to save his favorite for last. He suggested taking out their gags for awhile, just to find out whom they had the pleasure of having the pleasure of having. One girl could barely say her name. She might have said Alaina or Elaine, Andrews or Androse, Jim thought. Between sobs, the younger girl said she was the other girl's sister, Leah Lily. They were both great little fucks, the men agreed, whatever their names were.

He knew Leah had just been raped by seven different men before him, but Jim wanted her to remember him the most. On a quieter bus, everyone would have stared back at them to see what atrocity could merit such awful shrieking, but on that bus, few people noticed, and even fewer cared. The men who had provided the gorgeous little fuckdoll grinned across the aisle at them, glad to hear Leah's long day at the temple end on such a high note.

Jim considered pulling out his camera and recording a few seconds of each of the girls, but since none of the other men took pictures at all, let alone video, he reluctantly decided to pass, and just enjoy it while he had them.

They got Tina and Samantha back for the final few minutes of the bus trip. As the bus groaned its way into the city, or what they called a city in those parts, eight very satisfied men replaced the authentic Incan clothing on eight bawling girls. One man passed around something to 'calm' the girls, and they all exited the bus.

"There you are," Ida Jones said, approaching Jim and Tina where they stood under the streetlight. She took the girl's hand. "Thank you for everything you did!" she addressed the man. "In case she forgot her manners, I'm sure Tina thanks you, too. Come along now, Tina, we have to hurry."

"Mommyy!!" the girl wailed. "Mommy! They-"

"I'm sure you had a busy day, Tina, but there's no time for that now," the woman declared. "We have to get back to the ship in the harbor before it leaves without us! I hope they let you on in that costume! Where are your clothes?" she scolded. "Never mind that now, just keep still and come along. You can tell me about it tomorrow. And stand up. I'm not going to carry you, no matter how sleepy you are."

"Mommmmmmyy!!" the girl cried. Tina looked back at Mr. Carson with a look of despair. The wailing girl and her mother soon vanished into the dark.

He shook his head. He doubted they were even heading toward the harbor, and even if they were, he doubted they would reach it. He shrugged. No matter who found Tina on the dark street, or where, he was sure they'd have a fun night, and more fun for as many days as they wanted her. Maybe they'd even take her back to the temple by bus a few times. Too bad he'd miss it.

"What a terrible bus trip! Such unending shouting, screaming, and yelling!" Lady Carson exclaimed, pulling Sara by the hand, when she finally located her husband among the crowd by the streetlight. Sara appeared half asleep.

Jim nodded to his wife, frowning. "Terrible bus trip, dear." He turned as a man called and waved to him, his other hand holding a nearly-naked three-year-old girl by a leash. Jim smiled and watched the two disappear into the crowd. He looked around to see two little blond heads walking the other direction, showing two little bare bottoms, between two men who could easily be brothers, if not twins. 'Thanks for a couple of great fucks, Leah and Lana!' he chuckled to himself. 'Hope to have you over again sometime!' His wife interrupted his farewell wave by taking his arm.

"And besides the noise, the men beside us kept reaching over and touching Sara. Outrageous manners! And the bus driver didn't do anything about it!"

"Just terrible, dear," he said to his wife.

"But neither did Sara!" she continued. "Did you?" she scolded her daughter, but Sara didn't respond. Lady leaned close to his ear and urged, "I know you don't spank her very much anymore, but I think you should spank her for that when we get back home. She has to understand what you'll do if you ever hear about her allowing anyone to do anything like that!"

"Um hmm," he murmured, trying not to show his agreement too strongly. His daughter stood beside him under the streetlight. He could almost imagine the small leather straps she wore were just shadows, leaving her completely naked. He wondered how many other men nearby, watching her from the dark street, were thinking the same thing. He wondered what they would do if he somehow 'left' Sara there on the street. How about if one or both of the straps were 'accidentally' untied first? What if he took the skimpy costume off her and took it away with him, leaving her completely naked in truth, to fend for herself? How long would it take his daughter to find her way to their hotel, at night, in a strange city, in a strange country? How many strange men would have fun with her, how many times, and in how many ways? In short, he wondered, surprised at his own thoughts, how many times could he get Sara raped, this city, this night? He knew he would never get the chance at home, but it would be so easy here. He felt so tempted that he might have just gone ahead and done it, if only his wife hadn't been there.

"I know nothing like that could happen to Tina with you there. I'm glad you had her!" she interrupted his thoughts. "To bring up a more pleasant subject, honey, the Mud Baths were wonderfully relaxing. Though I have to admit it got a bit boring by the end of the day. I wanted to go find you and Sara, but they told me the beauty treatment required the full day for full effect, so I stayed. How was your tour?"

He shrugged. "As exciting as watching a rug weaver weave a rug, all day long, since that's exactly what it was. The most exciting thing to happen was getting soaked in dye. You were lucky to get to spend a day in hot mud. I don't think we should ever come back here together, and I doubt Sara will want to talk about her two weeks here, either. Be nice, and don't even ask her about it."

"Of course you're right. Say, honey," she asked, pointing to a leather pouch slung over his shoulder, "what's that you have?"

"A few small things for Sara, as souveniers of her visit," he whispered, "to complete the authentic Incan girl's outfit she has. Exact replicas, of course. They'd never sell the originals." He had a wide leather belt with large decorative stones (pointed, he'd insisted, not rounded), a few thin braided leather 'necklaces' with smaller stones (probably just garnets, though), some bracelets and anklets, and four woven leather straps, all of which he'd seen in use at the temple. He pulled the pouch out of his wife's reach. "I want it to be a surprise when she sees them," he emphasized, tucking the pouch with the video camera securely under his arm.

It wouldn't do to lose it before he'd finished paying for it.