“So how old are you?” I asked.
“Twenty-three. Y tu? Ah, and you?”
“I just turned twenty.”
I sat up as Josef stood and went to the bucket. I looked away as he peed, throwing back his head for a loud yawn.
“Now you,” he said.
I stood with my bound hands in front of me and he lifted my dress until I was squatting over the bucket. I peed, and when I tried to stand he held my shoulders down.
“You try to go,” he said.
I shook my head and felt my cheeks warm. “I can’t.” I stood again, hating the wet feeling left behind when I couldn’t wipe.
“Maybe I shit first, y you won’t feel bad.”
Surely he was kidding. He smiled, completely at ease and serious.
“Aw, Josef, come on. Can’t you hold it?”
“Why? Es no good to hold.”
“This is such a small room…” Dear God, it would smell awful in here, especially since we couldn’t flush it away.
“Angel…” He became serious. “Our bodies…no es dirty. We are animals. It’s natural.” He pulled his pants down and I lay on the blankets, rolling with my back to him to try and block it all out. Thankfully he didn’t take long.
“Now you,” he said afterward.
I heard him pull up his pants, but I stayed where I was, not looking at him.
“No. No way.”
“Just try.”
“I can’t. I don’t need to.”
He sat next to me. “I can help. I massage you.”
Massage me? Oh, heck no. I sat up, leaning against the wall, and pulling my legs up. The room stank, and Josef’s face was as adorable as ever. I realized then that I liked him. Not like that, but as a person. He was cute and genuine.
“Thank you,” I said. “But I’m okay.”
He sighed, clearly not believing me.
Footsteps sounded from outside the door and a key turned in the lock. Familiar panic rose inside me, and I shrunk back into the wall. Josef went to his knees, lowering his face to the floor and placing his palms facedown on his thighs. My instinct was to stare at the door and see who came through it, but I forced my eyes down as it opened.
“Look at me,” Marco said.
We both lifted our faces and did as he said.
“We have guests arriving at lunch. Josef, you, Jin, and Perla will provide the entertainment after our meal.” Josef nodded. “Angel, you will stay at my side and remain silent. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir,” I said.
“Bueno. Time to get ready.”
He blindfolded me, once again, and took my arm, leading me down the hall and up a set of stairs. Then, all at once, a mix of gorgeous sensations hit me—a warm breeze, the sounds of the sea, birds calling, and the strong fragrance of tropical flowers. Too quickly it was over and we were indoors again.
“Introduce her to the others and show her the slave quarters,” Marco told Josef in Spanish, all business. “Dress her in a black shift. She is a non-worker tonight and until she’s fully trained.”
“Sí, Amo.”
I felt Marco release me, and then we were winding through the house, sounds of people working—pans clanging, water running, a vacuum somewhere. My bare feet felt carpet, then textured tile as we went from room to room.
The air was crisp and tendrils of foreign scents hit me as we walked: cumin and jalapeños from a kitchen, strong flowers on a warm breeze, probably drifting in from an open window or door.
We entered a quieter area and stopped. Luis removed my blindfold and uncuffed me, then closed the door. I heard a lock click from the outside. I rubbed my tender wrists and rolled them around with a grateful sigh.
“This es our room.” Josef took off his collar and set it on a corner table next to another, smaller one.
My eyes searched the large, multi level room. Three things struck me at once. In all of the beautiful, arched doorways, there were no doors except the one which locked us in. Those black half-globes with video cameras were in every room on the ceiling. And there were no windows. To my right was a kitchenette area, the counter laden with fruits and rolls. Perla sat at a round table with a breakfast plate in front of her. She was stark naked. A quick glance at her boobs told me they were not real—too high and firm for their size, but she wore them well with perfect posture. I wondered how old she was. Maybe late twenties.
Perla gave me a warm smile. “Buenos díaz.”
I was about to answer her when she said, “That mean ‘good morning.’”
Crap, I’d almost forgotten I wasn’t supposed to understand Spanish. My heart sped as I dropped my eyes and nodded. I needed to be more careful.
“Um, good morning…buenos díaz.”
Josef took my elbow and steered me left to an archway leading into a communal bathroom with multicolored stone walls. Two commodes and four shower heads lined the walls. All out in the open. My insides began to shake. Josef hadn’t been joking or exaggerating.
Moving forward through a larger stone archway and down two steps was a long room lined with five comfortable looking floor shifts. We would all be sleeping on the floor. Josef led me down to the second to last one.
“This es yours. Mine es next to you.” He pointed to the last one by the wall. I gave a small nod.
“Where are the others?” I asked.
“Es early still. They finish with the patrons.”
My hands began to shake.
“Did they…stay the night with them?” I asked.
“Sometime we stay. Sometime we give wake-up call. But no always.”
Ew. I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to stay the night with strange men or go to them in the mornings.
“Es no so bad,” he whispered, seeming as easy-going as always.
For a moment I tried to imagine him having sex with a man, then a woman, and I felt myself blush. I cleared my throat.
“Time for breakfast y then shower,” he said.
On our way to the kitchenette I saw the entry to a large, walk-in closet full of clothes and shoes. A lot of black and red. Beside the closet door was a long vanity area—a counter with appliances for hair, manicure sets, and mirrors.
I sat in the kitchen area with Josef and Perla, but only picked at my food, not wanting to put too much more in my body. Plus, it was strange and distracting sitting across the table from Perla’s boobs. I kept glancing at Josef, whose eyes would casually drop to her chest now and then, but for the most part he seemed accustomed to the sight, and it certainly didn’t hinder his appetite.
Afterward they led me into the showers. Perla turned one on for me, then herself, and climbed under the water, motioning me to do the same. My heart beat harder. Josef began to strip next to me, kicking his clothes toward the wall. Then he came up to me, naked, and grabbed the bottom of my dress, lifting it up. I gasped and considered backing away, but what was the use? I let him pull it over my head and toss it to the wall with his clothes. He smiled at me, nonchalant, and gave me a once over. I crossed my arms over my chest and pressed my legs together, but he didn’t try to stare. He went to his shower head, so I went to mine.
I felt awkward and stiff showering in front of two other people, though they didn’t care at all. Just washed themselves and paid no attention to me. I washed my hair and peeked glances at Perla’s perfect body. Thin and sculpted. No cellulite in sight. I wondered if they made her workout. Or if constant sex was her workout.
I shivered under the hot water. I felt chubby next to her. I was shorter, so every pound I gained or lost showed. I’d put on ten pounds since high school. Compared to Perla my body was soft and untoned. Trying not too look at her anymore, I turned toward Josef, who had his eyes closed and his face upturned to the water, his hands running back over his long, dark hair.
And, yes. I couldn’t help myself…I looked down. He was long. In his unaroused state, he was almost as long as my ex-boyfriend got when he was hard. Maybe it was my imagination, but Josef seemed to be
growing at that moment. I looked up and caught his dark eyes watching me with a half-grin.
“He come awake if you look at him.”
Perla laughed next to us, shaking her head as she shut off the water. My face was burning hot. I stuck my head under the water to rinse, embarrassed beyond belief.
We dried off with the fluffy towels, and while they hung theirs up and opted to walk naked, I wrapped mine tightly around myself.
Low feminine voices sounded from the entrance to our rooms and a door shut. Two women stood in the archway to the bathroom and stared at me. I stared back. They were as different as can be—one a tall, stunning European looking woman with a brunette bob and icy blue eyes, the other a petite Asian girl with silky black hair that went down to her waist. The taller woman wore fishnet stockings, knee-high black stiletto boots, and a tight, black leather dress which spilled massive amounts of natural cleavage. Very dominatrix.
The tiny girl was in a purple mini skirt and a black lace bra. She looked like she’d had implants like Perla because they were too gigantic for her small frame.
Both of them wore the black collars. The taller woman gave me a sly smile as she looked me over.
“A new one? And shy, too, no?” Yes, her accent was definitely something European, but not very strong. She had to be at least thirty, which meant she’d probably been with Marco a while.
The other girl glared at me with something like contempt, and I felt myself shrinking from her. She was about my age, maybe even younger. I didn’t want to make any enemies, so I dropped my eyes, trying to show respect. Josef stayed at my side. I felt the warmth of his arm next to mine.
“Sea amable…” Perla warned the girl as she passed her. You be nice.
“Jin,” said Josef. “This es Angel. She speak only Inglés.” He nudged me and I looked up, nodding at her. “Angel, this es Jin, y this es Mia. We make her feel welcome, yes?”
Mia nodded, and Jin rolled her eyes. She actually rolled her eyes! What was her problem? Her immediate attitude toward me made me want to lash out. I didn’t want to be here and I didn’t deserve to be treated like shit from another slave. It wasn’t right. None of this was right.
“Angel,” called Perla from the bedroom area. “Ven aquí...come here, por favor.”
I passed the two girls, giving them plenty of space, and heard them enter the bathroom for showers. I went to Perla in the closet area while Josef fell naked onto his mattress for a rest.
Perla dressed me in a long-sleeved cotton dress that went to my ankles. It scooped low on my chest and back. She made a face at my chest.
“I tell Master you need bra. To lift.” She cupped her hands under my boobs and pushed them upward and inward, smiling at the small bit of cleavage that appeared. I fought the urge to move away or cover myself. She let them drop and pushed me onto a stool to do my hair—again in an elaborate, sophisticated bun. She powdered me and blushed me and painted my lips red, then looked at my fingers. One of my nails had been bitten off and was jagged. She filed it, giving me a gentle admonishment.
“You no bite.”
“Okay,” I whispered. It felt nice to let her take care of me, even if her boobs were swinging in my face half the time. I felt the overwhelming urge to hug her, but I didn’t.
She painted my fingernails and toenails red, just like hers. While I waited for them to dry, the door to our quarters opened and Luis stood there. My stomach dropped and my heart rate spiked. He was looking right at me.
“Angel,” he called. “You come with me.”
Perla quickly slipped my feet into a pair of open-toed black high heels and handed me a beautiful black masquerade mask lined with black feathers.
“You wear at lunch. Okay?”
“Thank you,” I told her, then walked up the step to meet Luis. I accidentally flinched away when he reached out and he shook his head, tsking.
“You must wear always except in this room.” He took a thin, black leather collar and put it around my neck. As he secured the buckle my eyes watered. I felt constricted, like I couldn’t breathe, though I knew it was only in my head. But fuck! I was being collared like a dog!
Luis reached for my arm and I pulled away, panicking.
Would they make me have sex with him again? Or someone else? Please not Marco. My stomach clenched and my feet wanted to dig into the floor to keep myself planted. Then my eye went to the gun holstered at Luis’s side, and a too-familiar sense of weakness washed over me, doing crippling things to my mind and will.
When he reached for my arm again I let him take it.
I wasn’t blindfolded or cuffed as we left the slave quarters, which brought me great relief, even if Luis did hold my arm in a vise grip. As if I could possibly outrun him or his gun.
I soaked in every detail of the house as he led me through it, and for a moment my terrible circumstances were not at the forefront of my mind. Calling the villa a house wasn’t really accurate. It was too massive and elaborate for that—more like a Mediterranean mansion or resort. Rooms that faced the ocean had floor to ceiling glass walls on one side. Some areas felt cozy and warm with tiled floors and seating areas, while other parts were wide open with grand ceilings and art of every assortment: paintings, sculptures, and hanging tapestries. Vibrant colors sprung from every direction.
I was taken to a small room that looked like a clinic or nurse’s station. Sterile. Medical stuff was lined on the counter. Luis led me to a paper covered exam table and I climbed up, sitting with a shudder. What was I doing here?
An older man in a suit entered and looked me over briefly before going to cabinets and doing something with his back to me. My pulse quickened as he pulled on rubber gloves with a snap and turned to me.
“Español?” he asked in a no-nonsense voice.
I shook my head. “No.”
“I give you exam.” He pushed my shoulder until I was laying, hesitant and unsure. I tried not to pull away or fight him as he lowered the front of my dress and prodded my breasts, or lifted the fabric and nudged open my legs. He felt around, and though one spot stung a little, it didn’t feel too bad.
“You are good,” he said.
He listened to my heart and did all the checks: throat, eyes, nose, and ears before turning and grasping a syringe. I shrunk back.
“You get shot. Every three month. No baby.”
At first I thought he was telling me not to be a baby, but then I realized he was talking about a birth control shot.
Birth control. Because I’d be having unprotected sex with strange men. My stomach rolled and I fought a bout of nausea. This was really happening. It all came crashing down at that moment and I clutched the edge of the examination table. If I let myself imagine the possible things to come, I would be snowed under by fear and panic. I had to breathe and take everything one moment at a time.
As much as I hated to let them have this kind of control over my body, I really didn’t want to get knocked up by some rapist sleezeball either. So I stayed still when he injected my arm. Then he took two vials of my blood.
When he was done, Luis was nice enough to take me by the other arm to lead me through the house. We ended up in a rectangular dining room with workers bustling around to set the two long parallel tables. A large gap was between the tables with an oriental rug, almost like a staged area. Luis stopped me.
“This es your Master’s seat, yes?” He pointed to the chair at the end of the table. “You stay on your knees and you don’t leave his side.” I nodded and he kept going. “You don’t speak. You do nothing unless he say. Understand?”
“Yes.” But I felt jittery. What would happen if I messed up?
“Lunch es soon,” he said. “You stay here.”
He led me to the wall behind us, which I hadn’t seen when we first came in. It had a line of ten lightweight chains attached to the wall. Luis motioned me to my knees, and then to my horror pulled one of the chains and attached it to the collar around my neck. I reached up instinctively and g
rasped his wrist as he was securing it.
“It won’t hurt,” he said, securing the collar lock with a key.
I sucked in a breath, and reached up to feel how tight it was. I could push my fingers between the leather and my neck—snug, but not strangling. Still, this wasn’t safe. What if there was a fire or something? I almost laughed at myself and my stupid thoughts about safety. As if anything in the entire place was “safe.”
“Hands down,” Luis said. I dropped my hands to my thighs.
Two of the worker women glanced at me, then whispered to one another, making me self-conscious. I couldn’t believe I’d be sitting there, chained like a dog as people came in to eat. I swallowed another lump in my throat.
“Put on the mask,” Luis said.
I’d been holding the mask this whole time. I brought it to my eyes and tied the ribbons behind my head. Being partially hidden brought me a measure of comfort as people began filing in, chatting and laughing as if a chained woman against the wall was okay. I kept my head down, kneeling in the position Luis showed me. After a few minutes I felt a warm, dry hand against the back of my neck and the clinking of a key unlocking my collar.
In a low voice Marco said to me, “You will crawl by my side and remain there silently the duration of the meal. Do not meet the eyes of my patrons. Try to relax and enjoy the entertainment.”
Crawl? I hesitated for one moment as he walked to the table, then I followed behind him on my hands and knees, feeling the eyes of the people around him as their conversations hushed. I knelt at his side with my head down.
“Una nueva chica?” asked a man with a deep voice. A new girl?
“Sí, sí,” answered Marco, sounding almost bored as he spoke in Spanish. “It was time. I’m still breaking her.”
“Is she very green?” the man asked. He seemed too excited about the prospect.
“Sí,” Marco answered. “Muy verde.”
“A virgin?”
“No.” Marco sighed, though I couldn’t get a read on his mood. It was beyond disconcerting to have two men talking about my sexuality in front of me, so crudely, and not be allowed to say a word.
Escape From Paradise Page 6