“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 waved 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 rested 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 asKidthrough 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.
Slowly, seductively, Celia caressed the boy’s face, his neck, and his shoulders. She let herself take the time to coax him into desiring her. Kid could probably smell her perfume, nearly feel her nipple make contact with his face as she stood in front of him, touching him like a lover in a room full of strangers. When Celia pulled away, the boy nearly fell on his face chasing after the smell of her.
“She’s very good,” Rafiq suddenly whispered in a hushed tone. Caleb nodded in assent.
Celia quietly circled the room, finally coming upon a squat, round man wearing a cowboy hat and a bolero tie. She inclined her body toward him, rubbing her pert nipples across his chest sinuously. The man chuckled and leaned forward in an attempt to kiss Celia, but at the last second, she reached for the flogger in the man’s hand and sharply turned on her heel, slapping the man in the face with her hair.
The room erupted in laughter. “Damn it, Felipe,” said the man in a thick Texas drawl, “you are a lucky bastard. Go on, honey – you teach that boy a lesson.”
Celia smiled for the crowd and cheekily waved her flogger. “Put your face on the ground and lift your ass in the air,” she said.
Kid flinched and didn’t move to obey, even after Felipe translated. The crowd hissed in disapproval.
“No?” inquired Celia.
“Please,” Kid said with a whimper. And it was most definitely a whimper. “I’ve had enough. No more.”
Caleb shifted in his seat. He stroked Kitten’s hair again, and abruptly she shifted to sit between Caleb’s knees. Her head landed on his upper thigh and she pressed his hand to her ear.