CarnivalBarker
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 15, 2013
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Frederico stood silent as the roadies frantically rearranged the stage, preparing it for the headliner. The opening act had been a local star, someone that would never be Selena, but who would satisfy the masses more than some lower-tier American country star that would normally open on this tour. The main act was now a legitimate, international icon, and she was who the crowd came to see. She was also the reason Frederico was here, despite only enjoying the Beatles and Van Halen as American music goes. He was not here for the show, however, but to deliver a message from his boss. He knew why, for he knew how the boss was. He peered across the large stage and glimpsed a shock of golden hair pulled into a ponytail stepping from behind a curtain and down beneath the stage, and as fast as she was there, she was gone. The lights dimmed and small white starlight dots began swirling in the stadium. For years, Taylor Swift had avoided Mexico City, and the masses were ready to see her for the first time. Now, Estadio Azteca was filled to capacity, and 105,000 people filled the place, standing, screaming her name.
"How is Santino going to pull this off?" Thought Frederico. He crossed his arms and settled in for the show. He just needed to pass along the message. Moments later, as the crowd became a frenzy, the superstar flew up from beneath the stage, high in the air, and landed on her feat, a huge smile greeting her fans before she stood there, soaking in the cheers and magnitude of the huge stadium. "Hello, Mexico City!" She said, and the show had begun.
For the next two hours, Frederico watched carefully, beginning to get it, when he hadn't before. At five foot ten, with porcelain skin, the girl was more beautiful than he had thought. He had previously thought her a child, and she was young to be sure, but as he watched her long, firm thighs and perky body move on stage when she wasn't standing in a gorgeous gown and simply singing, he thought she was all woman. Perhaps older and more woman than the girls he typically would simply kidnap from resort towns and bring to his boss. They were often no older than 18, if that. No, she was a prize, and this would require a practical military operation in precision. An operation that would soon begin.
I remember when we broke up, the first time
The crowd roared at the beginning of the final song. Santino had sent him to 26 of these concerts. His mission was to get close to her people, get the tour sponsored for Mexico City, and get her here. It was always the final song. Frederico moved down to the pit quickly and around behind the stage, where he entered the wings to locate her tour manager.
"Karen, hello." He said. "Santino has completed everything to transport her to the villa where the afterparty and reception will be held. It's a small affair, only Santino and his three nieces who love Taylor, his brother, and the other two investors who paid for the tour to come to Mexico."
The tour manager asks for the passes, and I give her only three. "Security will only allow three passes," he says. "You all need not stay long, but please appear as we discussed. Santino can fund these shows for decades, and will, but he likes to meet the artists when he does." It's a lucrative arrangement. The tour manager, unsuspecting says they will appear after Taylor cleans up and changes from the show and completes a fan meet and greet. Frederico nods and leaves after leaving a local contact number. On his way out, he calls the number himself.
"Santino," he says. "The girl will be there."
"Good," I say. "Be ready." I hang up the phone and look over the mountains in the distance beyond my enormous pool and more enormous ranch. I had built an empire, rising from the streets of Juarez, smuggling products as a soldier in the bloody drug wars of the past 25 years, and ultimately controlling the growing fields of Colombia and the trade routes from South America into Texas and California. At 47, I was the youngest of the cartel chiefs, though authorities did not know it. I had insulated myself from the soldiers, and the Feds only knew of the ghost known as "Ocaso," who operated in the dark night of the nation's soul and controlled the nation's drug trade. To outsiders, I was a retired oil executive and major benefactor to the Mexican community. Most notably, I was someone who got what he wanted. I had turned my sights to the impossible. America's, maybe the world's sweetheart. I wanted to own her, to consume her, to violate and defile her. To profit from her. The time was nigh. Months of planning had made this night possible. I could not wait for what will follow.
"How is Santino going to pull this off?" Thought Frederico. He crossed his arms and settled in for the show. He just needed to pass along the message. Moments later, as the crowd became a frenzy, the superstar flew up from beneath the stage, high in the air, and landed on her feat, a huge smile greeting her fans before she stood there, soaking in the cheers and magnitude of the huge stadium. "Hello, Mexico City!" She said, and the show had begun.
For the next two hours, Frederico watched carefully, beginning to get it, when he hadn't before. At five foot ten, with porcelain skin, the girl was more beautiful than he had thought. He had previously thought her a child, and she was young to be sure, but as he watched her long, firm thighs and perky body move on stage when she wasn't standing in a gorgeous gown and simply singing, he thought she was all woman. Perhaps older and more woman than the girls he typically would simply kidnap from resort towns and bring to his boss. They were often no older than 18, if that. No, she was a prize, and this would require a practical military operation in precision. An operation that would soon begin.
I remember when we broke up, the first time
The crowd roared at the beginning of the final song. Santino had sent him to 26 of these concerts. His mission was to get close to her people, get the tour sponsored for Mexico City, and get her here. It was always the final song. Frederico moved down to the pit quickly and around behind the stage, where he entered the wings to locate her tour manager.
"Karen, hello." He said. "Santino has completed everything to transport her to the villa where the afterparty and reception will be held. It's a small affair, only Santino and his three nieces who love Taylor, his brother, and the other two investors who paid for the tour to come to Mexico."
The tour manager asks for the passes, and I give her only three. "Security will only allow three passes," he says. "You all need not stay long, but please appear as we discussed. Santino can fund these shows for decades, and will, but he likes to meet the artists when he does." It's a lucrative arrangement. The tour manager, unsuspecting says they will appear after Taylor cleans up and changes from the show and completes a fan meet and greet. Frederico nods and leaves after leaving a local contact number. On his way out, he calls the number himself.
"Santino," he says. "The girl will be there."
"Good," I say. "Be ready." I hang up the phone and look over the mountains in the distance beyond my enormous pool and more enormous ranch. I had built an empire, rising from the streets of Juarez, smuggling products as a soldier in the bloody drug wars of the past 25 years, and ultimately controlling the growing fields of Colombia and the trade routes from South America into Texas and California. At 47, I was the youngest of the cartel chiefs, though authorities did not know it. I had insulated myself from the soldiers, and the Feds only knew of the ghost known as "Ocaso," who operated in the dark night of the nation's soul and controlled the nation's drug trade. To outsiders, I was a retired oil executive and major benefactor to the Mexican community. Most notably, I was someone who got what he wanted. I had turned my sights to the impossible. America's, maybe the world's sweetheart. I wanted to own her, to consume her, to violate and defile her. To profit from her. The time was nigh. Months of planning had made this night possible. I could not wait for what will follow.
