Federico felt the pain in his chest due to the furrows opened by the whip and choked with the flow of fluids coming from the woman, but at that point he just wished to enjoy the moment that attracted him most, his real reason to accept being submitted to the whole sadomasochistic ritual. His face was buried deep in the black flesh of the dominatrix, which weighed heavily on it impregnating his mouth and nose with the scents and tastes of the woman's intimate region. His open eyes barely glimpsed the light outside the flesh cave for a few moments when the woman's wobbles above him let it pass. Fortunately the air came unobstructed to his nostrils by some indirect channel. Shantaya restarted her feverish movements preparing for the next orgasm.
Kafil took the cell phone in his hands and communicated with his patron.
"He's coming out ... yes, he looks badly battered.”
Adhiambo and Boris lay on the bed once more. The girl was happy because of the contact with the Russian, who protectively hugged her. Boris had just told the girl that he wanted her to move in with him.
"If you agree, I'll immediately start looking for an apartment to rent. We need more space for both of us. At least one bedroom and a kitchen. Do you know how to cook?”
“Of course. All the girls in Kenya are taught by their mothers in the kitchen and other household skills. But since I arrived in this country I have only cooked in the flower shop for the owner and the employees. As we are all Africans we have similar tastes in food. I do not know if they would satisfy you.”
“ Do not worry too much. I can also cook and will make you taste the Russian food. "Boris paused." Well, then do you accept? "
“I don´t know. I'll think about it. "Adhiambo turned on the bed, averting her face from the man's gaze so he would not see her smile.
Shantaya returned to her office after what had been a memorable amatory day. After the prolonged session of oral sex to which she had submitted Federico she had allowed him to repeatedly possess her. The woman had consented to have normal sex with few men and the boy was one of them. In a gesture that would have surprised those who knew her, she lovingly caressed her own belly. At her age Shantaya wanted to experience motherhood again as long as she had time and had chosen Federico to that end, because she liked the genetic load he would give to her new offspring. Pregnancy checks had not yet been performed but a sixth sense indicated the woman that she was already pregnant. And if she was not it would happen be in a short time.
Zahra paced her apartment from side to side in a quite furious mood. Realizing that in that state of anger she was not going to get results the woman slowly managed to calm down. Just a day before they had had with Federico an afternoon of love and wild sex as she did not remember in her life and yet the boy had returned with the dominatrix that humiliated and hurt him. Zahra did not understand what the reason might be and she set out to find out. The Kenyan looked at her wristwatch and estimated that it would still be an hour before the young man returned from his work.
The reason true for the woman’s thought was that she had already noticed that Federico was a very intelligent man but had a weak personality. Zahra had to take the damn witch out of his head and she would not do it half-heartedly. The Masai warrior had to be thoroughly employed.
Shantaya hung up the phone a little stunned. What Boris had communicated had immediately angered her because it revealed her loss of control over one of her favorite pupils. Suddenly, and without finding a suitable explanation she burst into a laughter.
Once she made that thoughtful journey the woman managed to calm down and only then she saw the bright side of the situation. Boris would no longer harass her when he needed a woman, just when she had chosen Federico, much more manageable and predictable than the Russian. Losing Adhiambo was a limited collateral damage and she had in fact already been replaced by the Ethiopian Amhara, even younger than her former pupil.
As he closed the elevator door, Federico heard the door of his neighbor's apartment open. He turned and with a smile said.
"Hi Zahra." But something immediately on the woman's face told him that there were problems.
"Explain to me now clearly what you need!" Exclaimed Zahra. She had forced the young man to sit in an armchair and stood before him, placing one knee on his chest. She had already told the boy that Kafil had been following him, that she knew of his relationship with Shantaya Washington and that the woman was exercising her sadistic impulses upon him. The boy's surprise at the follow-up he had undergone was great, and his first reaction was one of confusion.
“Speak up! Explain to me what that bitch gives you that you do not get with me.”
Federico blushed and answered.
"I'll tell you in your ear."
Zahra understood that whatever the young man was about to tell her he did not want to hear in his own voice. She put her ear to his mouth and heard his whisper.
"Well." She calmly said. "I understand what you need and I promise you will not have to look for it elsewhere. Zahra will give it to you.”
The Kenyan was a thoughtful person. She clearly understood that Shantaya could not have abused the boy if he had not a personality who would accept it. Federico was a masochist and Zahra had to act accordingly to conquer and maintain him.
Then she thought.
Chapter 10
Boris Krupin and Adhiambo were in bed after making love and before doing it again. The girl was safe and happy for the first time in her hazardous stay in the United States, even though the modest hotel room in which they were staying was much less comfortable and luxurious than the rooms where the escort had served, and was even worse than the rooms in the building where Shantaya had her headquarters.
"I have been thinking that renting an apartment in Manhattan isn´t the real solution for putting distance with Shantaya. You want to come and live with me at my house in Brighton Beach?" Boris asked suddenly.
The girl had a slight start.
"Are you going to leave me and go live somewhere else?"
"Only if you come to live with me."
"Where is Brighton Beach?"
"It's between Brooklyn South and Coney Island. It is an area where many Russians and their families live.”
"And you have a house there?"
"It's an old, small house. At the moment it is abandoned so that it would have to be reconditioned if we want to go to live there. But it can be done quickly.”
"Why do you want to live there?"
“I have many relatives, friends and countrymen in that area and also ...”
"And what?"
"As I said, it would allow us to distance ourselves with Shantaya and the whole circle around her. She does not know the address.”
"Are you afraid of her?"
"If I were alone I would not be afraid of anything, but now I must watch over you too. Shantaya is unpredictable and by the nature of her business has dangerous thugs at her service. So ... you want to come?”
Adhiambo felt her sense of security heightened by the man's intent and words. She squeezed on the bed against his body and began to rub his butt against Boris's leg.
"I'll take that as a yes," Said the Russian.
Shantaya was worried and a bit angry. Federico should have arrived at her offices an hour earlier. Although she did not call him every time they were to meet she had set fixed times in the week with a frequency determined by her own sexual needs. Now the woman had called him on his cell phone but no one answered. She did not know whether to interpret it as rebellion or simple irresponsibility but in either case
she would be severely punished him when he reappeared.
Zahra ran happily to open the door knowing that it was Federico. Just to test the solidity of their relation she had summoned him on a date and time when she knew he had a fixed appointment with Shantaya.
The young man looked a little disturbed and confused.
"Sit down and wait for me. I’m coming back in a minute." She said, pointing to an armchair. In a tray on a small table a pair of drinks was already prepared.
As the woman took a while Federico watched the strange decoration of the living room, consisting of a number of artifacts of obvious African manufacture, some of them of unknown use to him. The general setup however looked sober and tasteful. He was standing in front of a wall from which a kind of zebra-covered war shield hung. At that moment Zahra called him out in a hoarse voice.
As he turned his head the young man was astonished. The woman displayed her slender body only partially covered by a white lace bodice above which her full breasts protruded, a truss of the same color of elastic tissue to which she held two white stockings that showed her fleshy thighs, a pair of long gloves and a richly decorated mask that covered her eyes. She moved with the feline walk of her race. Zahra allowed the man to admire from a distance her perfect body of blue black skin on which the whole bright white outfit stood out. As Federico could not move by the impact of the vision, the woman approached him and placed her gloved right hand on his left shoulder and pulled him towards her. Still in a trance Federico buried his face between her breasts and thrust his hands into his truss.
At eight o'clock the doorbell rang.
"It's delivery." She said. "Put some clothes on and go and take care of them. I do not feel like getting up yet.”
When the young man went to do the requested task Zahra consulted her wristwatch on the table. They had spent four hours making love at times and their bodies permanently intertwined rubbing her black skin with his. The man had explored her whole body with his hands and mouth and both were impregnated with each other's fluids. Zahra had never been through such a complete sensory experience and was sure that the boy had not either. The conjunction of both moving bodies had been paced from the beginning. The skin on the man's back was torn and it showed multiple bloody grooves made with her fingernails, strong as claws. His shoulders and neck showed the mark of the woman's teeth produced by numerous nibbles. Zahra did not need whips or bizarre instruments to mark her man, her own body and instincts provided her with all the necessary means.
Federico left the dinner on the dining-room table and returned to the bedroom.
"Come here." Whispered the woman. "I have not finished with you yet."
After the umpteenth intercourse, when it was obvious that she had extracted all of the energy from the young man, Zahra said in his ear.
"I have wiped from your body and mind all vestiges of that bitch. You only have in your nose and in your mouth my scent and my taste. You belong to me and this has no turning back. Are you ok with that?”
The young man nodded; then she told him.
"Let's have dinner. You must replenish your energies for me.”
Zahra had placed in the drink that gave the young man her filter of love, in which she fervently believed. She did not know that the true spell that kept the man tied was she.
After dinner they talked at length; in fact both were mutually unknown and had a whole world to discover.
"...And that Imani woman and that Kafil man are from your own ethnicity? Are they Masai like you?"
Zahra shifted her position in the chair, hesitating to open up and then resolved to be entirely honest to the young man. She had never told anyone before what she was about to tell him.
“I'm not a Masai of origin and I am not really the daughter of the tribal chief Obonyo, who adopted me when I was very young. Ethnically I am Kikuyu, another important tribe of Kenya. My real name is Kinjia Mwangi, and I escaped from my house and from my village when my biological parents were about to marry me with an old man in exchange for some cows, so I fled my village never to return.”.
Zahra felt an emotional choking remembering her past and Federico made a gesture asking her to stop speaking about the obviously painful subject.
“No! Let me continue." She said." I've never told anyone this, but I need you to know the truth. "
The woman narrated the fortuitous encounter with the sorcerer Kitwana -not revealing however for the moment that he had initiated her in his arts- and the reception in the boma ruled by the chief Nkwame Obonyo, who received her as his daughter. All the details of her life in her new town unfolded in her mind and in her narration.
“ ... When I was fifteen I saw the first white man and since then I knew I would marry one." At this point she stroked the boy's head.
"Do you understand all the expectations I have in you?"
"There are many white men." He affectionately answered. "You can get whoever you want."
"But I have chosen you. I'm not interested in another man.”
Shantaya stared in amazement at the cell phone on which she had just heard Federico's message. The woman furiously threw the device against a wall against which it burst into a thousand pieces. In spite of the babbling tone of the young man, it had become clear that after apologizing for not attending the appointment he informed Shantaya that he would no longer see her in the future. Although he had not said it was clear that there was another woman involved.
Shantaya could not admit having lost the man she wanted and about whom she had made projects in her mind like never before in her life. Her pride could not bear that idea, particularly now that it was confirmed she had become pregnant with him. Her active mind began to devise a plan of punishment and recovery. She picked up her phonebook from a drawer and looked for a number in it.
“Mére Saraphina. I am Shantaya.”
The setting was simple. The room was dark with the exception of a scented candle burning on the table, stripped of any other object. Saraphina and Shantaya were sitting face to face in silence and the first had summoned the spirits to guide her performance. She was waiting for a sign that they had already taken possession of her body and mind and that they would speak through her mouth.
Shantaya had meticulously narrated the problem and looked forward with respect to hear the shaman's words. Saraphina placed on the table a deck of cards that she had until that moment in her lap and began to lay them on the table, and then collect them in a leisurely manner. The session dragged on and Shantaya's neck was already sore from the tension the whole ritual caused. But she did not dare ask questions while the medium was in a trance.
Finally Saraphina spoke.
"There is another woman, indeed. She's a black woman from Africa and she's about your age. She is very beautiful and has captivated your man. There is some confusion in the cards that make me think that she is an African magic practitioner." Saraphina raised her eyes and looked at Shantaya. "If so, you must face a very powerful magic.”
“Who is she?”
"I cannot read that in my cards but I do know that there is another woman who knows her identity. A woman you know.”
Chapter 11
As she heard the bell ringing Adhiambo rose from the chair where she was browsing a magazine and went to the door without noticing that she was in her underwear, as she waited for Boris with dinner ready. The girl opened the door without checking through the peephole and then the night fell over her.
The blows fell all over her body producing explosions of pain in her sides, her face, her arms and legs. The brutal whirlwind lasted an imprecise time that seemed to the girl an eternity but finally ceased. Adhiambo opened with fear one of her eyes, since the other was swollen and unable to see; the woman felt her mouth full of blood and fainted.
The pan filled with water made her recover her senses at once, and in doing so she saw two young black men in front of her
, one of whom wielded a stick with which she had no doubt been beaten. The thinner of the men bent down and placed his deformed face at a short distance away from the girl´s and asked her speaking in a strong accent that sounded French to Adhiambo.
"Are you awake yet? Good, because we do not have so much time to lose.”
The young woman perceived, in addition to the foreign accent, a way of talking and moving that convinced her that her interlocutor was gay.
“ You are going to answer my questions if you do not want Pierre ... “ He said pointing to the other man, a tall and stout black who had the club in his hands .” ...to continue with his softening process.”
Adhiambo's body trembled with terror and from her mouth came a bloody froth.
When Boris returned to the hotel he had a feeling of uncertainty. He asked the attendant at the grubby desk at the entrance if there had been any news.
"None but the power outage that lasted half an hour."
"And what did you do about it?"
"I was working on the electric board but finally I did not find the reason for the outage.”
"And who stayed in the lobby of the hotel during that time?"
"No one, there´s no one to replace me.”
With a sinister omen, the Russian climbed the ramshackle stairs two steps at a time. When he reached the third floor he saw that several doors of the rooms were ajar to spy who passed by and alarmed hurried to the room he shared with Adhiambo. Seeing the door half open, his heart leapt and he threw himself into the room. The girl lay on the faded floor, her face full of blood and with her undergarments torn. Boris first checked if she was alive, raised her body easily and laid it gently on the bed. He spent the following three hours healing her wounds with a first-aid kit he always carried with him because of his hazardous profession.
"They were two young black men, I think Haitians by their accent. Most likely both are gay.”
"What did they want?" Have they stolen something?”
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