“I put the whore down,” Rafiq said in Arabic.
“Here?” Caleb was careful not to telegraph his mild surprise.
“Caleb, please. We are guests here. I put her down in the cellar… to sleep.” Rafiq’s tone was meant to poke fun at Caleb.
Caleb didn’t see the humor. He nodded and let the subject drop. “How much longer is this going to last? I want to get out of these ridiculous clothes. You deliberately didn’t tell me you were here. Furthermore, you didn’t mention there would be so many people bearing witness to our crimes. Yet, I’m the sloppy one.”
Rafiq laughed and smacked Caleb on the back of the shoulder. “Ah, Khoya. It’s always betrayal with you. Even as a boy, you had to have things on your own terms. Do you remember the first time I took you to a brothel? You’d never been with a woman, but you would not be content with just any woman. It had to be the ‘perfect’ woman! Then what happened, Khoya? I’ll tell you: you lost control and finished in less than a minute!” Rafiq laughed so hard, he shook Caleb’s shoulder as he laughed.
He loathed that story and the way Rafiq took such enjoyment in its telling. He did not like being made fun of, even by someone he considered a friend, a brother, and most importantly, an ally. Caleb felt his face warming in equal parts anger and embarrassment. “Damn you, Rafiq! If you want to reminisce with someone, why don’t you find your friend, Jair? I’m sure you’d enjoy his company much better.” Caleb shrugged off Rafiq’s hand.
Rafiq wiped tears from the corners of his eyes as he slowly brought his laughter to a winding halt. “Such a child, Caleb. Jair is a source of information when you are less forthcoming. I know you well, Khoya, and I would be a fool to think you tell me everything. Besides, I wanted to see this girl you’ve selected for Vladek. I want to be sure she’s perfect for the task. Frankly, as of this moment, I am unconvinced.”
Caleb drove his anger inward; absently, he reached out to stroke Kitten’s hair. “I take offense, Rafiq. I chose Kitten myself and just as in your story: I’m content with my choice. Did it ever occur to you that a minute in that whore’s arms was all I needed?” Caleb finally relented and smiled, “She said it was perfect.”
Rafiq chuckled, and Caleb couldn’t help but laugh with him. They’d known each other for a very long time. Rafiq was the only person who really knew Caleb, and despite their odd and often tense relationship, Caleb had to admit it was good to laugh with him again. It had been a long time since they’d seen one another and their phone calls had been mainly business.
Caleb relaxed.
“I’m sure it was the best minute of her life, Khoya.”
“I agree.” Caleb smirked. He was sure Rafiq was about to offer another witticism when their host for the evening called the room to attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Tonight, I have a special treat for all of you. Thanks to some dear friends, I have recently come into possession of a glorious new slave. He is raw and unbroken, but I am sure you can appreciate the novelty of seeing one so inexperienced.” He chuckled, “Alas, I have given the pleasure of mastering him to my long-time slave: Celia.”
A soft murmur of approval and applause rippled through the room. Caleb glanced at Rafiq who seemed amused by Felipe’s antics. For Caleb’s part, he was somewhat reticent given Kitten’s reaction to seeing the blonde girl. He braced himself for whatever might come next. It was too late to leave the room.
“My Celia hails from Spain, and her English is very poor. I will be translating on her behalf and assisting. I hope you enjoy.” Felipe waived his hand and a door opened, revealing Celia, dressed in a tight, white leather corset, with matching stockings and shoes.
Caleb’s pants seemed tighter. Celia was a quintessential Spanish beauty. Her hair was jet black and her eyes were so dark, it would be easy for anyone to get lost in them. Her mouth had been painted a deep red to match the flower in her hair. Her skin was a milky expanse that would surely show every mark laid on it. Celia’s breasts were bare in the corset and her tiny breasts were pale white against the deep raspberry color of her pebbled nipples. Beneath the corset she wore no panties, leaving her bare pink flesh open to the scrutiny of prying eyes. She had been spanked earlier and the rounded globes of her ass showed it. Her stockings were white fishnet and created an alluring pattern as they hugged her thighs, and legs. Her leather half-boots were small and dainty with a tiny bit of lace at the top. Caleb had to give credit where it was due, Felipe’s slave was glorious. He was suddenly aching to see what she could do with her whip hand.
Next to his chair, Caleb noticed Kitten was also transfixed by Celia. He stroked her hair, silently content when she inclined toward him and rest her head against his knee. He did not neglect to notice she kept her hands dutifully in her lap.
There was a slight commotion as two men escorted the boy Caleb knew as Kid, through the same door a few seconds later. Kid was obviously a man, no younger than eighteen, no older than twenty-three, but his face lent itself to a certain boyish quality that had obviously led to his nickname. Caleb had to agree it had been well chosen.
Kid entered the room blindfolded, bound and gagged, but otherwise naked. A cursory evaluation showed he’d been beaten, but it wasn’t as bad as Caleb would have thought. Almost as if someone had intervened on his behalf before the boy ended up like his girlfriend. Caleb shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Something about the boy was off-putting to Caleb.
“He looks like you a bit,” said Rafiq.
“Fuck you,” Caleb said in English. Kitten’s head snapped up, but came back down to Caleb’s knee when he gently pressed.
Rafiq laughed, but offered no further comment.
Celia spoke her words with authority, “Put him on his knees and lock his wrists to his ankles.” As the men did as she asked, Felipe translated and the crowd clapped softly.
Kid noticeably trembled, but surprisingly, he did not struggle against the two men. Caleb wondered if he was naturally submissive, or if he’d been brutally reminded of the punishment for disobedience. He hoped it was the former. If the boy had anything to do with Kitten’s condition, Caleb would see to it he suffered: compliant or not.
“Take the gag out of his mouth,” Celia ordered. She sauntered over to Kid and ran her fingers through the boy’s shoulder length hair, easing him into a false sense of security before she fisted the gold strands and snapped his head back.
“Fuck!” the boy yelled. He tried to pull out of Celia’s grasp, but she held him easily in her tight little fist. Caleb was impressed.
“Does it hurt, Slave?” She crooned. Laughter could be heard in the room.
The boy was silent. Behind his back his fists clenched and his arms strained against the restraints he wore. Celia pulled harder, wrenching his head back in such a way his throat was completely exposed. “Yes…Celia,” he finally whispered.
Slowly, the soft music that had been playing began to fade until the room was stark in its silence. It drew the moment into sharper focus, each sound lending itself to an action. The room itself seemed to become a living thing, breathing, vibrating, and hungry. Even Caleb was not immune to the charm of one petite girl mastering someone twice her size.
“Very good, Slave.” Felipe’s voice was scarcely above a whisper when he translated Celia’s words. Caleb did not require the translation, but he could appreciate the way Felipe’s voice, low, but full of authority, drew the others in as they strained to hear every word.
Celia released Kid’s hair and he audibly sighed in relief. She stroked the gold strands for a few seconds. Her audience sighed in approval as they listened to Kid’s ragged breaths.
Caleb had always marveled at the way a person’s inability to see lowered their inhibitions sharply. Surely, Kid would be humiliated to know the sounds he was making were being heard and interpreted by a room full of people who lived for such things. Caleb was almost embarrassed for him, or perhaps he was only uncomfortable watching.